#feels like yesterday when it all started!
Note
One word prompts are so hard for me cause they could go an infinite direction but what about the word Cherry with Steve?
don’t you call him ‘baby’
steve harrington x f!reader. angst with a happy ending. [2k]
——
There’s a cherry red stain on the edge of the grainy photo. The color of your favorite lipstick — the same color still on the collar of his old jean jacket. He'll never get rid of it, he’s decided long ago now. You’re smiling back at him, captured forever in this picture, the sunset behind you, a hand hiking up one side of your flowing dress, the fabric backlit by the orange sky, highlighting the curves of your silhouette. He doesn’t even need the photo to remember the way it feels for his hands to travel the pathway of your side, your hip, the contours of your thighs. And the memories of that day hit him like a freight train all the same, like it was only yesterday.
Your hand is in his as he peels away from the curb at Max and Lucas’ new place in California. Sun streaks across the sky still, his sunglasses perched high on his nose. He feels you squeeze him tighter, thumb stroking lovingly along his knuckles. He turns his head and captures your gaze, your mouth a firm line, eyes round and soft. Sad.
“You okay?” you ask, and he realizes that sadness is for him. Heart practically shatters at that, because you know him deeply — just as you’ve always known over the years without him ever uttering a word.
His lip wobbles, but he doesn’t cry, tries not to at least. Even so, you gather the tear that eventually streams down his face. Thumb it away so tenderly it’s like you’re trying to capture it — to encapsulate this moment. Max is gone, Lucas is starting a new career, Dustin is off to college with El, Will, and Mike. Robin’s getting married soon. And he’s peering at everyone through the window, wishing them well, watching them slip away with the passing of time.
Everything is changing, yet you remain, and though it aches to see his life changing so quickly and suddenly, you’re a constant. The thought alone has him leaning over at a red light and kissing you soundly on the lips, hands in your hair at the back of your head, his cheeks flaming hot when the light turns green and someone slams on the horn behind him.
“Let’s go somewhere,” you muse softly, a little to yourself, head against the doorframe, free hand twirling in the wind out the window, catching sunlight in the palm of your hand. “That sign says there’s a beach up ahead. I want to put my feet in the water.”
He smiles, squeezing your hand, thinking how he can’t wait to marry you one day. “Okay, honey.”
Soon enough you’re both running along the beach with your hands tangled together. You’re spinning. Twirling. Laughing as he turns you round and around on the beach, sand between your toes, sun kissing his skin, blissful words punctuated by lingering kisses. There’s a blanket strewn out nearby you brought along and laid out, shoes discarded, your newest book propped open on its front. Beside that is the camera he brought along for the trip, the same one he rushes away to grab, chest splitting in two at the wide smile that breaks along your face.
You’re perfect. Everything he could ever want and more in a person. Beautiful beyond whatever measure a camera could ever capture you within. The photo slides out and slowly develops. The same photo you hold pinched between your fingertips as you later drive back to your hotel, bringing your lips to the bare corner, leaving a cherry red stain behind.
“Give me your wallet,” you reach an arm out and he slaps the leather within, the picture sliding into an empty slot. “Now you’ll always have me with you.”
Such sweet words — if only you had known.
He’s not sure how it happened. How that one perfect day became a memory. He still remembers the feel of your warm skin after hours on the beach spent kicking up sand, dancing in the waves, falling into fits of laughter as you eventually fell back onto a blanket, hands tangled together as tightly knit as your hearts. Later you’d pulled him down against you in that hotel bed, blocked out the rest of the world, and relished the feel of two souls wound together like one. You whispered forever against his throat as he later curled you against his chest, with the sound of his heartbeat a promise to lull you into sleep.
But things changed. His anxiety after Vecna grew, he buried himself in a job he didn’t even want at his father’s company to run from it. Work became too much — distance between you grew, him on trips that drew him further and further away from Hawkins. He pushed you away, he knew it, you knew it, though neither wanted to admit it out loud. At first you fought about it, about how you wanted forever but forever couldn’t look like this if you wanted it to stand the test of time. And then the apartment grew silent. Screaming matches turned into quiet sobs before bed, when you thought he couldn’t hear you, but he did every time. The distance became a chasm, too far to broach.
Then you left. Packed your things one morning and chose yourself. He understood. Of course he did. Still it didn’t make anything better. Didn’t make his heart hurt any less.
Now he sits in the middle of your — his — bed staring at the photo of you. The box of things he kept of yours through the years stored beneath his bed, even after Eddie suggested he might want to put it away in a closet or something. It’s been six months, six months of not turning over every morning to find you already awake and propped up beside him, wanting the first thing he sees every morning to be your smiling face. Six months of wondering what you’re doing, wondering who you’re talking to, wondering if you’ve moved on.
He gets his answer that night.
Eddie’s shoving Steve along beside him. Clothes cling to sweaty bodies in the packed bar. Robin couldn’t make it, so the two decide on a ‘boy’s night out.’ They’ve not had one in a bit, since Chrissy’s just given birth to their first baby a couple months ago. But she practically pushes him out the door that night, promising her and their new son will be fine, that he deserves a fun night with his friend.
Only it’s far from fun. With July came the hottest weather Hawkins has seen all year. ‘A record breaking high,’ the news stations tout. All Steve knows is his jeans feel tighter than usual, his skirt is stuck to his sweaty back, and the woman he loves is standing at the bar with a man Steve doesn’t recognize.
“Don’t look,” Eddie warns, as though it’s not already too late. As if Steve’s not drawn to you like a magnet, even after all this time. “He could be a friend, or something.”
He could be. But the man is reaching over to rest a hand over your forearm, head bent low, eyes wide, and clearly engaged in whatever story you’re telling him. Steve’s not surprised. It’s one of his favorite things about you: this way you seem to captivate every room you walk into. Like he’s in your orbit, circling around you, pulled in close by your mere aura. Anyone who knows you loves you, he thinks — and they’re lucky for it. He’d been lucky for a time, too.
“Steve, stop torturing yourself,” Eddie says, giving his friend’s shoulder a little wiggle. “Here — let me go grab us some beers. I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything hasty.”
Steve shakes his head. What’s he going to do? Scream. Cry. Beg for you to come back. No — instead he watches. Feels his chest ache as you throw your head back in a laugh at something your date must say, hiding your smile against the lip of your glass, suddenly bashful when your eyes flicker up and clash with Steve’s. The drink in your hand falls and shatters and people rush to clean it up. Your date scrambles to find a stack of napkins, dabs at the front of your blouse, the gesture lost to you as you stay staring ahead, held in place by a ghost of your past.
Suddenly, like a light bulb flashing in your mind, you snap back to attention. He watches the bob of your throat on a swallow, the long rise and fall of your chest on your deep inhale and exhale, the forceful smile that curls your lips as you return your focus to your date.
The moment slips away as Eddie returns to the table, glasses in hand.
——
He’s not sure how he ends up here. Standing in your doorway, the ‘exit’ sign at the end of your hall flickering in the night. Your palm splays against the open door, mouth agape, eyes on his face, blinking frantically like you might think he’s an apparition.
“Please don’t tell me he’s your boyfriend.” Please don’t tell me you call him ‘baby.’ He hates himself for the tears that glimmer like pools in his eyes, hates as you reach up to cover his cheek when the first spills down his skin. “Damn it — I had a whole speech and I —” His voice breaks, throat closing around his words. You’re on your toes, face in his collar bone, clinging to him like he’s the very thing keeping you afloat at sea. “I quit my job, I started therapy, I’m not saying it excuses anything but —”
“Come with me,” you whisper, dropping back onto your heels, pajama shorts ruffling around your thighs.
Heat blooms in his belly as your fingers knit with his, dragging you further into an unfamiliar apartment. It’s very you. All your favorite colors and things, movies strewn about the living room floor, the grainy static humming on a television screen. A pot of half-eaten macaroni is left on a stove top, a plant on your kitchen table, books on a little shelf on a corner leading to a hallway. Lived in.
“Sit on the bed,” you demand as he slips inside your bedroom.
The blankets are messy, like you’ve risen from a nap recently. A stuffed animal he won you at a carnival rests beside your pillow, well-loved, as the fur is no longer as fluffy as it once had been. He watches stiffly as you reach down beneath your bed and pull out a shoebox. In your lipstick, you’ve written “Us” and decorated the top of the box with dozens of little stickers accumulated over the years. In awe, his gaze trails your hands as they pluck item after item collected throughout the years together. That first Scoops Ahoy napkin where he wrote his phone number down, that strip of photos at the photo booth at a carnival, your plush toy between your bodies as he kissed you that first time, a shirt of his from high school days that still smelled like him when you breathed deep enough, the little stack of Polaroids with all your memories scattered within. Early dates, holidays, Valentine’s Day, trips out of town with Robin, photos with the kids. Memories frozen in time of a life that feels so long ago — a life he still craves more than anything.
“I never got rid of them,” you mutter thoughtfully, holding up a photo of him napping on a lawn chair at his parent’s house, skin tanned, chest bare, marker scribbles by the kids on his face in the shape of glasses. “He’s not my boyfriend. I haven’t dated anyone since…”
“Me neither,” he swallows, inhaling sharply as your forehead rests against his. “I know I can’t…I know I messed up and I can’t take that back. But you deserve the world and I want it to be with me.”
“You’re going to give me the world, Harrington?” You tease, and he can almost hear the laughter in your voice as you reach down between the two of you to shove the memory box aside.
“If you’ll let me.”
“You have a lot of groveling to do,” you murmur, and he can feel your lips brush his, just a whisper, softly enough he wonders if he’s dreaming, “starting with this.”
He kisses you. One for every day he’s gone without. Until you’re falling onto your back and gazing up at him with stars in your eyes, fingers trailing his bare chest, lingering along the heart that thumps wildly beneath, singing of a forever.
——
#lunalovessteve#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington blurb
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When they misunderstand and kiss your cheek - svt 95z
💋Who; Seventeen 95 line (individually) x reader.
💋What; lil fluff reactions.
💋Wc; around 1k all together
💋Warning; Profanity. Kind of suggestive in places.
-2024 Masterlist -
A/N-I don't even know where this idea came from, it just popped into my head.
I got carried away so I had to split it up and shall upload the other members' parts when I finish them. If you have ideas about the other members then feel free to send them in, it could help with any I get stuck on 💖
💋Seungcheol💋
It's a hot day and for some reason, that apparently means Seungcheol wants to go to the store and get ice cream as if he didn't drag you out for the same reason yesterday.
"I told you to buy some for your freezer yesterday!" You whine where you're slumped on the couch at his side with no will to move yet knowing you will because you're utterly whipped for Choi Seungcheol.
"Shut up and get ready." He pats your knee, exposed due to your shorts, smearing something on you as he does. It grosses you out until you realise it's some of the sunscreen he's diligently applying to his face. So you sit up and rub in the remnants, then the extra he squirts on your skin assuming you had not applied any already. He's right.
Seungcheol finishes first and just holds the bottle open ready to give you more as he tries to not stare at the way your hands glide over your legs for the sake of his sanity. He's already hot enough thank you.
When you notice him just sitting there, you lift one hand to tap your cheek, implying that you want him to start working on putting the protective liquid on your face. Instead, he dumbly leans over and plants a kiss there, shocking you still.
It isn't until he leans back and takes in your bewildered expression darting between his face and the bottle in his hands that he realises his mistake. "Uh, shit, sorry, I didn't think."
"Makes it sound like kissing me is your automatic reaction."
"Don't be a brat or you can buy your own ice cream."
"Ha, yeah right, you always buy me everything."
"I spoil you too much, dug my own grave there." He starts to apply the sunscreen to your face to distract you both from his embarrassing mistake.
"You know, for the record, I didn't mind it."
"You didn't?" He looks at you and you shake your head a little, cheeks slightly pink as you focus on your legs despite the fact all of the liquid was long ago absorbed. "So can I do it again? But maybe somewhere else this time?"
"Pervert."
"Complete brat, honestly."
"You clearly like it, you want to kiss me so bad."
"Yeah, I do. So?"
"Do it." So he does and you get carried away enough that by the time you make it out of his apartment, the store is already closed.
💋Jeonghan💋
Everyone knows that Jeonghan loves Legos, a fact that means that pretty much every gift he received for his last birthday and Christmas were Lego sets.
It's been months yet he still hasn't even managed to open most of them due to his busy schedule so he recruited you to be his assistant. It's mostly just a ploy to spend more time alone with you but he also does know you're probably one of the only people he knows who enjoys the building process as much as he does.
"Ooh, making good progress." He comments after glancing over to see that you are pretty much breezing through the castle as he works on the ferris wheel.
His words make you look up with a hum to look at his own progress. You give a thumbs up and look up at his face, he's already looking at you in that happy soft way he does when you two are spending quality time together like this.
But you barely notice it, eyes instead landing on the smudge of something on his cheek. You lean a little closer and realise it's powder from the snacks he had earlier been eating.
You tap your own cheek in the mirror position, silently telling him about the mark which isn't even an unusual action for you two but for some reason, on this day, Jeonghan doesn't take it as a sign to wipe his cheek but instead lean over, placing one hand on the carpet between you to press his lips gently to your skin.
He quickly realises his mistake but in true Jeonghan fashion, he plays it off with a smug little smirk as he settles back into his place and gets back to his task.
Not willing to let Jeonghan win this, you lean over and grab him by his collar to pull him closer, causing his eyes to blow wide. You wipe at his cheek before kissing it and then all but shoving him back into place.
Neither of you says a word as you get back to your builds, both too flustered to remember how to work your mouths in a way that doesn't involve pursing lips.
💋Joshua💋
Lately, Joshua has been really into baking. At any random time, you can get a message from him requesting your help baking a cake or pie or some other kind of sweet treat. And if you don't respond to him fast enough, he takes it upon himself to turn up at your apartment laden with supplies and takes over your kitchen so that you have no choice but to help him bake.
The latter is what has happened today; Joshua turned up a few hours ago declaring that you two are going to make "the best fucking chocolate to have existed. Think that Matilda cake but sexier" and who are you to argue with the sweet buff devil of a man.
"Okay, I've got to admit, you were weirdly right about it being sexier," You mutter as you carefully pipe chocolate swirls onto the cake. Or attempts at swirls, neither of you is very good at the decor aspect of baking yet.
"Told you!" He grins smugly and looks at you before laughing.
"What?"
"You've got icing on your cheek."
"Get it then," He shows you his hands, already smeared with icing. "You've got a mouth, haven't you-" before you can finish and tell him to lick the icing from his hands, his lips are against your skin.
"That didn't work." He mutters, leaning back and licking the smear of chocolate from his lips while keeping his gaze on your cheek. He leans in again and again and again, dragging his lips over that same patch of skin enough that he really should've been done long ago. "There." He finally leans back with a satisfied little smirk. "All clean now." And then he lifts his hands to lick the icing from them like you had tried to tell him to in the first place.
You can't really focus after that and the smug bastard knows it.
#wkcnet#svthub#seventeen reactions#seventeen imagines#svt reactions#svt imagines#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#svt scenarios#seventeen seungcheol reaction#seventeen scoups reaction#seventeen jeonghan reaction#seventeen joshua reaction#seventeen 95z reaction
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Baby-Trapped - Part 4
Here is the latest part of my Evan Buckley series, thank you all for the lovely feedback and ideas. I hope you will all like this part.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella
Series Masterlist
Summary: (Y/n) distances herself from Evan when the people at her college believe he shouldn't be with someone younger and inexperienced like her. But things change when she falls pregnant.
Enjoy.
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Supressing a groan, (Y/n) tiredly opened her eyes, squinting at the light seeping into the room through the open curtains.
She took a deep breath, moving a hand to her temple to wipe away the sheen of sweat gathering on her brow. It took more energy than (Y/n) thought possible to twist herself onto her side and look across to the side table. Her vision blurred and she took a deep breath, squinting to try and read the numbers on the alarm clock.
It was almost dinner time.
"Oh God,"
A string of 'Come on' and 'Get up, get up' tumbled past her lips as she turned to lay on her back again and pressed her palms down against the mattress. She had to get out of bed. She shouldn't have laid in this late. Why did Evan get up without her? Why didn't he wake her when he got up?
Class started at two and it was a double class today, (Y/n) had to get up and get ready. She had to get something to eat and make her stomach settle down before she went to class.
Stting up proved to be another challenge. (Y/n) barely lifted her head before the room started to spin. She held her breath deep in her lungs and closed her eyes, sitting forward while her fingers scrunched up in the bedsheet to try and ground herself.
"How you feeling baby?" Evan headed up the stairs and crossed the room towards the bed, although when his eyes landed on (Y/n) he found the answer to his question straight away.
She didn't look much better.
Evan knew she wasn't well when he picked her up from class yesterday. She barely had the energy to get out the jeep, let alone get upstairs and as soon as they got inside, she fell asleep on the sofa. He knew her routine after class. She would tidy and re-write some of her notes and clip them in her binder and do a few revision cards. But not yesterday.
He woke her up to have something to eat, which (Y/n) ended up throwing up last night. And Evan got up with her at two in the morning when she felt sick and almost fell down the stairs to get to the bathroom.
Evan was sure she was coming down with something. He didn't believe it was morning sickness making her feel this bad when it never hit her as much as this before.
"Groggy… why didn't you wake me?" (Y/n) let her head tilt back like her neck had broken and she looked up at Evan through her lashes, barely able to focus on him as he moved closer. She watched, somewhat in a daze as Evan climbed onto the bed until he was hovering over her legs. He had his knees pinning into each of her thighs and he sank back on his heels, effectively sitting on her lap.
"Because you needed to sleep."
She leaned into his touch as he kissed her temple but her chest seized up and she gasped when Evan's hands found her shoulders and he easily overpowered her. He pushed until she fell back into the pillows and her eyes rolled to try and regain focus as the room spun around her.
"Evan…" She whined and moved her hands to clutch his forearms while he planted his hands down on the pillow either side of her head.
Her fingers trailed up his arms and over the short cuffed sleeves of his shirt, looping her fingers together behind his neck when he rearranged himself to lay down on top of her. He kept his weight balanced between his knees and his elbows which he pinned down into the bed either side of (Y/n)'s arms so his hands could cup the sides of her neck.
Her tired lips curved into a grin when Evan leaned down and stole a kiss. She could feel his teeth nipping at her lower lip and shivers coursed through her nerves when he pushed down on her just a little more. Pinning her into the mattress with his abdomen touching her bump that he was always so fascinated with recently.
"You don't look well, go back to sleep baby. Get some more rest." Evan spoke quietly in between kisses while his thumb brushed across (Y/n)'s jaw and he pulled her lower lip between his lips.
"I have to get up babe, I have class this afternoon-"
"No, baby you don't."
(Y/n) arched a brow and scratched her nails into the back of his neck while she huffed.
"Have I slept through the whole day or something?" Part of her actually worried Evan was going to say she had slept for over twenty four hours and had, in fact, missed class.
Her eyes followed Evan as he leaned his weight on his left arm and moved his right hand up across her neck. He kissed her lips again, slower, softer this time, before he pressed the back of his hand against her forehead and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
"No. I told Maddie you're not going in today, you've been sick and you're burning up, you need to stay home." He could feel the heat radiating off of her already and he knew she was only wearing his lounge shirt and her underwear.
It wasn't as if she was bundled up in layers or sweating beneath a thick duvet. She had been sick during the night and she still didn't look well or rested. Evan could see she had a headache, it was clear in the way that (Y/n) could barely keep her eyes focused on him and how she was wincing every now and then. There was no way she could go to class when she wasn't well, she needed to stay here and rest.
Evan was going on shift in half an hour but he had already rung Maddie this morning since she had said she would drop (Y/n) off at college and pick her up later. He told his sister not to bother. He couldn't see (Y/n) getting up and making it through a double class when she looked and felt this rough.
"Babe I can't miss class, we have a practical exam next week."
(Y/n) could feel tears pooling in her eyes even though she didn't want to cry or feel that upset.
Missing class wasn't an option. Not when she was getting closer and closer to finals.
There was only two months left of classes, then (Y/n) could sit the last of her written exams, pray that she passed and be done with college. If she missed class now and failed the practical next week, it would mark her grade down or push her back. (Y/n) couldn't afford to be pushed back because she needed to graduate this year. She had to graduate before she had the baby.
"You've been to almost every class this year, missing one to recover won't make any difference. You could still study here if you feel up to it. You're twenty-two weeks pregnant and you're sick, they'll understand."
Since they'd been together, Evan had only known (Y/n) to miss class once when she was in hospital. Once when she had a fever and he had to physically stop her from crawling out the door to try and get to class. And then almost two months ago when the girls in her class found out she was pregnant. That was it. She had made it to every other class and she was a star student.
Her grades weren't low or risky, she studied almost every day and she was smart. Missing class today and possibly tomorrow to recover from sickness wasn't going to make her fail.
It would do her good to rest and go back to class next week with a clear head. Going today would only prove to make her feel worse and Evan doubted she would be able to take much information in or concentrate much today, not when she looked drowsy and still felt sick.
Her teacher would understand.
"No, I have to go. We'll be fine." (Y/n) pulled Evan down by the scruff of his neck and took it upon herself to kiss him, but she could feel his resolve holding tight. He wasn't going to give in.
He stayed on top of her like a fallen building, preventing her from moving in any direction. And they both knew (Y/n) didn't have the energy or the power to move him when she tried to push up and failed miserably.
"Baby, do I have to call Bobby and switch my shift? If you're gonna try and go to class I'll change shifts and stay home with you."
Pursing her lips, (Y/n) looked away but she huffed when Evan held her chin and tilted her head until she let her eyes lock onto him again. If she was going to try and get up and move about or try and prove she could go to class, Evan would stay home. He knew Bobby would have no trouble switching his shift around and giving him the afternoon off.
He would stay home if he had to or if (Y/n) wanted him to. If she started being sick again Evan was already committed to staying home to make sure she was okay.
"Don't call Bobby," She murmured softly, looking up at Evan through hooded lashes which just made him lean down and attach his lips hungrily to hers.
"So both my girls will stay home and rest?"
(Y/n) wordlessly nodded, feeling her stomach pool with adrenaline when Evan reached his hand down to slip beneath her shirt and cup her stomach.
She didn't want to worry him. It would be easier to agree and stay home than it would to try and fight Evan and prove she was alright when they both knew she wasn't. Missing class didn't feel right though. It felt like (Y/n) was cheating, like she was having a sick day when she didn't really need one. As if she and Evan were going out drinking and dancing the afternoon away.
Staying home felt wrong when she knew she had somewhere to be. Was (Y/n) really ill enough to miss class?
Did the other girls at college who were pregnant miss class too if they felt under the weather? Was (Y/n) just overreacting? Did she look worse than she felt? Surely she could make it through class after all the sleep she had gotten last night and into the morning? It wouldn't be for long and if wasn't like they were doing practical assessments today or going out on work placements anymore.
Her mind stopped overreacting and started to short circuit when she felt Evan's palm press down on her stomach and the tip of his nose nudged hers as he kissed her.
"If you need anything, just call me or Maddie." He spoke quietly against her lips and (Y/n) found herself nodding along even though she knew she wouldn't call. She would be fine. She wasn't going to bother Evan when he was at work or call Maddie and disrrupt her day; it was bad enough (Y/n) thought she would be ruining Maddie's afternoon earlier by getting a lift to and from college.
Staying home and playing things safe might be the better option, but that didn't make it feel right.
***
Glancing her eyes around the living room, (Y/n) checked the coffee table and reached out for her notebook. Once it was stuffed into her bag, she slipped her bag high on her shoulder and straightened up, taking a moment to breathe deeply and clear the fog from her mind.
It was only an afternoon class.
She was going to be fine.
She had gotten up and had some lunch with Evan before he left for his shift and having a drink and a sandwich had perked (Y/n) up immensely. Her head didn't feel as cloudy, her stomach had settled down and she had kept everything down.
She even had enough energy to go and get dressed out of her slacks.
Staring at the clock had irritated, panicked and overworried (Y/n) until she gave in to the nagging thoughts in the back of her head. She didn't want to miss class. The thought of being kept behind or failing that exam next week made her cry. (Y/n) needed to pass, she had to. She couldn't face being kept back and hearing what Sandra and Carla would say if they found out.
(Y/n) knew if she missed this class, it would spur her and make her desperate to stay home and not attend the rest of her classes. The girls were making her paranoid enough to want to stay home and if she stayed home today, she wouldn't want to keep going in future.
She had to go. She had to keep her routine.
Keeping a tight grip on her bag, (Y/n) headed out the living room, stuffing her phone into her back pocket as she moved to the hall and grabbed her keys.
Her eyes did a quick sweep up and down her frame before she walked out the door, not giving herself chance to go back and change.
It had been a while since (Y/n) had walked to college. She forgot just how long the walk was until she finally got near campus. She had left the apartment extra early to give herself enough time to get there. The further (Y/n) walked, the more her knees started to shake and the more her legs felt gloopy like they were made of jelly that was starting to come apart.
She could feel herself sweating by the time she was on campus and she thanked God she hadn't worn a jacket. Her temperature was still a bit higher than normal so (Y/n) knew walking down the stairs in the apartment block was going to make her flushed, let alone walking down here.
But she couldn't risk calling Maddie and saying she felt well enough to go to college. Maddie would tell her to stay home and if (Y/n) went, she knew Maddie would tell Evan.
It was easier to do this alone and go to class without either of them worrying. (Y/n) could go to class, go back home and rest and just pretend Tina had given her all the notes from today's classes. Then everyone would be happy.
"Hey."
(Y/n) managed a smile and came to a stop, waiting for Tina to walk over to her. As soon as she was close enough, Tina reached out and looped their arms together.
Her eyes dragged up and down (Y/n)'s frame, something akin to happiness with a hint of confusion in her eyes when she looked over her.
"You okay… you look a bit under the weather?" Tina narrowed her dark eyes and quirked her lips up at one side. She could fee the sweat glistening on (Y/n)'s forehead in the afternoon sun and she was taking shallow breaths like she had just finished a marathon.
"I felt sick last night, but I'm okay."
"You still seem queasy to me, but okay." The look in her eyes said she wasn't so sure she believed (Y/n), but she wouldn't push the subject. She motioned her hand towards the doors but (Y/n) shook her head.
"I just walked here, let me catch my breath."
Tilting her head back, (Y/n) willed away the throbbing headache behind her eyes while she rested her left hand on her hip and squeezed tightly to try and ground herself. She could feel the baby give a little wriggle and a kick as if acknowledging that the walk combined with the lack of energy and the sickness had been a bit overpowering for them both.
"I thought Buck drops you off, is he at work?" When (Y/n) nodded, Tina hummed and linked their arms together a little tighter so they were leaning on each other.
(Y/n) gave Tina's arm a squeeze when she felt ready enough to make the treck down to the classroom. The only good thing about a double lesson was the fact that they could sit down and they would only have to move about for a leg stretch or to grab some work sheets. (Y/n) could sit and try to recover. She would be taking notes in class and doing the same as if she were at home, just not in the comfort of her own home or on her sofa.
She did her best to smile as they started to walk; she didn't want to worry Tina like she had worried Evan last night.
"So, thought of any names yet for our new girlie?"
"Maybe."
(Y/n) let her eyes trail down to her stomach and she looked over her outfit choice. She had been uneasy about whether to go to class or not and when she finally decided she felt compulsary to go, she got dressed in haste.
It was finally time to start wearing maternity leggings now that she couldn't zip up her jeans and her usual leggings felt very itchy and tight around the waistline. These ones were comfier than (Y/n) imagined and it almost felt like wearing a jumpsuit with how high up she could pull them. The black leggings were paired with a thin white top with tiny cherries embroidered across.
The top only just pulled down over her stomach and it showed off her bump properly for the first time. Before now, (Y/n) had been wearing Evan's clothes or jumpers or baggy dresses so no one in class would look or whisper.
She was tired of feeling so self-conscious about what to wear. Why should she care anymore?
Evan and Maddie had both told her she looked great and she had no reason to be uneasy or nervous. And going to the station four days ago had only perked up (Y/n)'s mood when Hen and Bobby were so lovely to say how well and how lovely she looked. And Chimney had said she looked great and how happy he was to become an uncle for the first time.
If they all thought (Y/n) looked great, she had no reason to hide her body or be afraid of what everyone was going to think. The girls in her class didn't matter. The only people whose opinions mattered were all happy and positive and that was what (Y/n) needed.
"Come on then, spill." Tina leaned her head on (Y/n)'s shoulder as they walked inside and made a slow walk towards class.
"Nope, you'll just have to wait."
She took a deep breath and blinked a few times to clear her vision as they turned the corridor and headed up to their classroom.
Evan and (Y/n) had been throwing names back and forth since last week and there was one that stuck well with both of them. They seemed to be silently agreed that it was the name for their girl. But they weren't telling anyone. It was going to be a surprise, if Evan could keep it a secret for that long.
Most of the class were already inside and sat in their usual seats when the two of them walked inside. (Y/n) realised it must have taken her a bit longer than she thought to walk here and she was suddenly glad she had left the apartment early.
They weaved round the edge of the class and moved across to their usual seats in the far right corner of the classroom.
That was where (Y/n) and Tina had always sat so they were both out the way and didn't have to mix with others or be social if they didn't want to. And (Y/n) couldn't brave sitting anywhere else in class or being any closer to the front. At least this way, if people wanted to stare, they had to turn around and make it obvious they were looking so no one's gaze lingered on her too long anymore.
It felt just like she was a teenager back in school having a baby at fifteen rather than being in her twenties, nearing the end of college to get a degree.
(Y/n) could feel all her energy dwindling down when she sat down in her seat. She slouched down, sinking further in her chair with her legs stretched out and her head tilted back as her eyes closed.
"You sure you're okay?"
Tina's voice sounded distant, like she was talking underwater or from across a field rather than right next to her. But (Y/n) forced herself to smile and nodded. She was here now. There was no turning back and leaving class now.
"Headache," She mumbled quietly before she forced herself to sit forward so she could get her notes and her textbook out her bag.
Her fingers skimmed across her phone and a shiver jolted down her spine when she turned it on silent and realised she had a message.
*Buck said you weren't feeling well today, are you okay? Do you need anything? xx
Maddie's thoughtful words made (Y/n) smile both happily and anxiously at the same time. It was sweet. (Y/n) wasn't used to having so many caring people around her, especially not people she considered family. But she also didn't like the thought of lying to Evan and Maddie. But she had to; she didn't want to worry them.
She sent a quick reply and stuffed her phone down in the bottom of her bag while she took a deep breath.
Please Maddie, don't stop by the apartment and realise I'm not there!
By the end of the first class, (Y/n) started to realise she might have made an error. She forgot just how long double classes could be when they didn't get lunch or even a half an hour break between classes.
It wasn't often they had doubles back to back like this, but they were a killer.
(Y/n)'s head was swimming. Her notes were scribbled and mismatched and she didn't even have the will or the energy to do her footnotes or her headlines in colour. She was going to have to re-write her notes tomorrow or another day when she felt better so the information could actually sink in her mind properly.
Her hand began to shake as she finished up the last note she was copying from the slideshow.
Dropping her pen down on the desk, (Y/n) slouched in her seat and fought off the urge to start crying.
Why did she have to feel sick when she had classes? Why had it taken all of her energy to walk down here? Why couldn't she feel ill over the weekend when she had time to rest and recover? Why couldn't she just get through class and feel rough when she went back home? It wasn't fair.
Reaching down into her bag, (Y/n) found the bottle of Coke she'd hidden away in there and tried to take a few sips. But the bubbles burned at the back of her throat and the sugar didn't perk her up like she hoped it would.
When she realised the room felt like it was starting to heat up, (Y/n) looked to her right. They were right next to the window. Maybe a bit of fresh air would make her feel better. She had seen Tina shed her jacket half an hour ago so she wouldn't mind the window opening, and their teacher never minded them getting up to have a stretch or open a window.
Pushing up from her seat, (Y/n) moved to the window but she took a sharp breath when she realised her knees were shaking back and forth like they were about to buckle.
Her lips pressed into a thin line and she pushed the window wide open, standing still for a second to take in a gulp of fresh air which she prayed would relieve her headache.
She wasn't sure what made her turn her head and look at the table a few feet in front of her and Tina, but when she did, (Y/n) felt her upper lip curling.
Sandra was staring at her.
She didn't seem bothered that she was making it extremely obvious who she was looking at or the fact that she was clearly being rude by staring behind her at (Y/n). She had one arm draped across the back of her chair, one leg crossed over the other and a sickly sweet smile on her face that (Y/n) wanted to wipe off like messy make up.
(Y/n) couldn't be bothered to feel annoyed. She took in another breath of air, relieved that there was a cold breeze flowing directly outside the window. Her head tilted to one side and she stared back at Sandra with an annoyed, perplexed look while Sandra simply grinned and looked her up and down.
"Ignore her. Snotty cow." Tina took (Y/n)'s hand when she sat back down and spoke loud enough for Sandra to hear and huff as she spun back around. "You okay, you're flushed." She rubbed her hand up and down (Y/n)'s arm and leaned a little closer, keeping her voice quiet so no one else could eavesdrop.
"Just a headache."
She knew it wasn't just a headache anymore. Her stomach was twisting; that sandwich she'd had for lunch was threatening to make a reappearance. Her body was overheating and feeling sluggish.
Just another hour and a half. That was all (Y/n) needed to get through. One more class and then she could go home and if she felt this bad tomorrow, (Y/n) definitely wouldn't be coming into class. She would stay home tomorrow for sure. It was Evan's day off, she would stay home with him and rest tomorrow if she could just get through today.
"Maybe you should ask for a break, or head home? If you're not well you don't have to be here, I'll bring you my notes when we finish."
"I'm already here; I can't just up and leave." Her eyes closed and her cheek fell on her hand to prop her head up that suddenly felt far too heavy.
It felt like she was stood beneath Niagra falls with how damp her forehead was and how her shirt was starting to cling to her body. She was relieved she had chosen a white shirt so no one could see how badly she was sweating.
She couldn't just go and ask the professor if she could go and have a break for five minutes. No one else got to do that and (Y/n) wasn't special, she didn't need preferrential treatment because she was pregnant. And she couldn't go home now she had made it through half of the class. She had to stay and finish the course.
She would fail if she didn't stay. Their professor wouldn't be happy with her if she left. (Y/n) needed to be here.
"Then at least have some water, please?" Tina slid her bottled water across the table and arched a brow. Her forearms pressed down into the table as she sat up higher on her knees. Tina always sat on her knees or with her legs crossed on the chair, it 'helped her concentrate'.
With her intense stare, (Y/n) felt obliged and took a few sips, glad it felt better than drinking Coke.
"Everyone take a sheet and fill them in, then we'll go over the answers in ten minutes." Their professor, Alice, waved a handful of work sheets she had printed off and passed a few round for everyone to take and pass back.
At least it wasn't a quiz. (Y/n) wasn't sure her mind was in the right place to be trying to concentrate and panic about a quiz right now.
Her eyes lifted from the table and her lips formed a scowl when Sandra got up to pass a few forms around. Her smile was sickly and when she flashed her teeth (Y/n) wanted to grimace. She watched Sandra approach their small table in the corner and slide a form in front of each of them.
"Here you go, mummy-to-be."
A shiver crawled down (Y/n)'s spine and she huffed. It wasn't a hurtful comment, not when (Y/n) was happy to become a mum and she and Evan were happy about this baby. But it was annoying that Sandra had started to call her that whenever she saw her. It meant when the other people in their class, especially the snobby girls, heard Sandra, they were more inclined that start referring to (Y/n) that way too.
(Y/n) dragged the paper across the table so it was in front of her but she could barely focus her eyes enough to see the anatomy it was depicting or work out what she was supposed to fill in the blank spaces. But she looked up when she realised Sandra was still stood in front of their table.
"What are you waiting for? Do you need to be dismissed?" (Y/n) waved her hand out and flicked her wrist in the direction of Sandra's table. She could feel Tina sniggering beside her and the baby kicked happily when Sandra frowned but did as requested and went to sit back down.
She picked up her pen and looked down at the paper, but she couldn't read any of the words.
It wasn't worth filling in. (Y/n) couldn't process what it said or what she was supposed to be doing and this wasn't a quiz or anything they would be marked on. It was just a work sheet to help them revise and see how good they were doing towards the end of the semester.
(Y/n) knew their professor wasn't going to collect these in. She would go through the answers and then move on to the next topic.
Dropping her pen, (Y/n) moved to cradle her face in her hands and took deep breaths, but she knew deep down that she was going to have to do something soon. Whether that was go stand in the hallway for five minutes or make a break for it and ask Tina to tell their professor she wasn't well and had to go home.
Either way, she had to do something because she couldn't carry on like this. Evan had been right. She should of stayed home. But wasn't it worth something to try? After all she had gotten through one class and if this hadn't of been a double course today (Y/n) would have been fine.
"I'm going to the toilet." (Y/n) twisted in her seat to look at Tina while she breathed through her words and tried to pluck up the energy to move.
College was a bit more relaxed than school. They weren't told off for leaving class if they needed the toilet, the professors understood. But there was a silent expectation that everyone should at least try and get through class without needing a break.
But (Y/n)'s situation was different. Their professor had already said if she didn't feel well or was having problems to just let her know and if she had to leave it was perfectly fine. And she had said if (Y/n) needed a toilet break to just up and go. She didn't have to ask or draw attention to herself and (Y/n) was thankful how understanding their professor was.
"Okay… you good?"
She wanted to nod. (Y/n) wanted to smile and agree and say she was fine, there was no need to worry. But she couldn't. Because she didn't know if that was the truth or not.
Pushing up, (Y/n) used the back of Tina's chair as leverage and stood up, gathering her senses before she tried to get walking.
Her right hand trailed along the edge of the desk, a precaution just in case her wobbling legs decided to buckle beneath her or she stumbled. But she froze when she shakily walked past the table in front and a hand latched around her elbow.
"You okay there, mummy-to-be?" There was a hint of concern in Sandra's voice, but (Y/n) didn't trust the look in her eyes.
She wouldn't put it past Sandra to cause a scene or give her a nudge and make her fall just so she could try and help her and pretend to care. She seemed very eager and indulgent to embarrass (Y/n) thus far and (Y/n) didn't feel well enough to play this game with her today.
She tore her arm out of Sandra's grip and took a wobbling step away when Sandra stood up.
"You should sit down, you look ill." Carla leaned forward in her seat and scanned her eyes up and down (Y/n)'s frame. She looked a little more genuinely concerned than Sandra, like she might help (Y/n) if Sandra wasn't sat right next to her.
"Should we call your baby daddy, tell him he's got two kids to look after?"
(Y/n) was going to be sick.
She turned away just before the tears could start to fall down her face and she made a quick, hazardous walk towards the exit.
Her stomach tied in knots and her lungs shrivelled up when she felt all the eyes of everyone in her class watching as she stumbled out. She could almost hear them silently laughing. She could feel them watching her. She could imagine what they were going to be muttering after she left.
Everything started to spin when she stumbled into the toilets, flapping her hands out to lean on the cubicle to stop herself from going down on her knees.
"Oh God, are you okay?"
(Y/n) didn't recognise the girl by the sinks. She spared her one little glance and managed to shake her head, waving her hand to dismiss her concerns. (Y/n) didn't want help. She didn't want anyone coming close to her or approaching her or trying to intervene and assess her.
White spots like stars twinkled before her eyes when she pushed open the nearest cubicle and kicked the door shut behind her.
A mix between a whimper and a cry bubbled past her lips when her knees roughly hit the floor so hard her left knee joint clicked, echoing horribly off the plastic walls. Her hands clung to the rim of the toilet and she hunched over just in time to spew up her lunch.
She couldn't see.
Spots covered her vision that went completely white with twinkling glimmers and black rims sparkling around the edges. Her forehead flopped down onto her arm and her body went limp as she gasped, desperate to keep herself awake and lucid. She couldn't pass out in the toilets. She couldn't pass out at college. She had to be back in the apartment if she was going to faint; it wasn't safe here.
"(Y/n)? (Y/n)… oh God."
Her body shivered when she heard Tina push open the cubicle door and felt her hands on her shoulders. She felt Tina crouch down behind her and reach around to feel her temple which was throbbing, sweating and giving off heatwaves to parallel the sun.
"You need to go home, I'm calling Buck for you." Tina leaned back on her heels and looked behind her for the bags. She had grabbed both her and (Y/n)'s bags before she ran out the class after her to see what was going on.
"No- no he's… he's at work-" (Y/n) shook her head but it only made her temple ache and made her feel drowsy. Her lips felt chapped and dry and her throat tightened as she tried to take deep breaths and pray she wouldn't throw up again.
Evan was at work, they couldn't bother him while he was on shift. He didn't know (Y/n) had come out to college. He told her to stay home. She should have stayed home.
"Someone's gotta come get you, I don't fancy bussing it with you like this."
(Y/n) had walked here and there was no way she could walk home in this state. And Tina didn't fancy trying to get (Y/n) on and off the bus to get her home. The bus driver would call the police thinking Tina had drugged her. She had to call someone. If she couldn't get hold of Evan she would have to get (Y/n) to call his sister, she remembered (Y/n) saying his sister was now a close friend. They had to get help from someone.
Tilting her head to one side, (Y/n) tried weakly to take her phone off of Tina but Tina easily dodged her movements and held her hand instead for some comfort.
"Buck? Hi, it's Tina…" She had only spoken to him a handful of times and it didn't feel right talking to him on (Y/n)'s phone.
"Oh, hi. Everything okay, have you finished class already?" Evan scratched the back of his head before he looked down at his phone. Class must have finished early today if Tina was already with (Y/n).
"Not exactly… look I know you're at work but I don't know who else I'm supposed to call. (Y/n)'s not well, she's burning up and she's just been sick. She needs to go home-"
"Go home? She's seriously gone to class?" He bit down on his tongue to choke down the words he wanted to say.
She's gone to class when I asked her not to? She went and she didn't tell me? She's gone even though she knew she wasn't well enough to be there?
He asked her not to. He told her not to go. He explicitely said she wasn't well and it was okay for her to miss one class. Why would she ignore him and go ahead when she wasn't okay? Did (Y/n) not believe in herself enough to think missing one class would prevent her from passing her test next week?
Evan knew she wasn't well he knew she wasn't up to going to class and this just proved him right. He should have switched his shift and stayed home with her to make sure she was alright. He should have stayed to make sure she wouldn't go and do this.
All he wanted to do was look after (Y/n) and their baby. Why couldn't she just agree with him and let him look out for her?
"Yeah, I thought… um, what do you want me to do, call an ambulance, or-"
If this were any other situation, Tina would have rolled her eyes and quipped about how sly (Y/n) was to go to class when Evan clearly thought she was home. She would have said (Y/n) was being somewhat devious, in a playful manner, and told her she wouldn't get away with it.
"I'll come and get her, can you stay with her until I get there?" There was no way Evan was staying on shift when (Y/n) wasn't well. He would go and get her and see for himself how bad she was and determine whether he had to take her to the emergency room or not. He would call Maddie since it was her day off and ask if she'd come over when he got (Y/n) home, just to make sure she and the baby were okay.
But he didn't want them calling an ambulance. The last thing (Y/n) wanted was to go to the hospital if she didn't need to. And if the ambulance got there before Evan, he knew (Y/n) would have a panic attack if she got taken to the hospital without him.
"I won't leave her. Let us know when you get here."
"Thank you."
***
Evan could feel his hands balling up into fists when he made his way down the corridor.
He could see Tina dead ahead of him but he didn't need her there as a guide to show him where (Y/n) was. It seemed rather evident where his girlfriend was when he saw the students starting to crowd round the doorway, all trying to see what was going on. And a few probably waiting because they needed to use the toilets which were seemingly out of order for the time being.
Coursing ahead, Tina weaved around the other students milling about the hallway and met Evan who didn't break his stride when she approached him.
"What happened?"
"She didn't look too good in class, and she started to feel sick… she's thrown up twice. But she's managed to have a drink and calmed down."
Moving his hands down, Evan ran his palms up and down his thighs to try and calm himself down and settle his raging nerves. He let Tina take the lead and backtrack down the hall towards the toilets.
The moment (Y/n) lifted her head, she felt the tears welling up in her eyes all over again as she heard the familiar thud of Evan's work boots.
Her hazy vision blurred and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back against the wall while her trembling hands moved up and down her thighs. She could feel Professor Alice hovering close by.
When Alice realised what was going on, she handed out the next work sheets and came to wait with (Y/n). She had her arms folded over her chest, a comforting smile on her lips and she was leant up against the door. She had shooed away a lot of the girls from class and told them to get back to class and continue working, lest they wanted to be marked absent for trying to hover and gossip.
"Is this your partner?"
(Y/n) didn't have to open her eyes to nod and acknowledge that it was Evan who stormed into the room after Tina. But she opened her eyes and looked up when the Professor gave her shoulder a squeeze and looked down at her.
"I don't expect you back in class until next week. I'll email over the notes and paperwork you need; let me know how you are."
"Thank you."
With that, the Professor nodded at Evan and Tina and moved to stand outside the toilets, ushering away the girls who were waiting around. And directing them to the toilets on the first floor if they were so desperate to go.
Tilting her head to the right, (Y/n) bleakly opened her eyes and focused her attention on Evan's chin. She couldn't meet his eyes, not until his fingers gripped her chin and he tilted her head up. He wouldn't look away and he didn't say anything until (Y/n)'s hooded, watering eyes finally locked with his while he crouched down beside her.
She could feel his knees pressing into her thigh as he balanced between his toes and the heels of his feet. He had his left arm resting on his thigh and his other hand continued to hold her chin, his thumb reaching up to dart across her lips to see if they were chapped or not.
"How you feeling?" His hand let go of her chin so he could press the back of his hand against her forehead before he looked down at the water bottle next to her. Assessing how much she had actually drank since throwing up so he knew whether she was dehydrated or not.
"Surprisingly better." (Y/n) muttered somewhat defeatedly. She was glad to stop throwing up and she was relieved her stomach wasn't twisting or rocking up and down anymore like she was on a boat. But she still had a temperature and her head was splitting at the seams.
But this was better than what she had felt like back in class, whether Evan believed her or not.
"Wanna explain why you're here when I told you not to come in?"
"Not really."
Evan cracked a smile before he moved his hand to run across his jawline and down his chin. "Alright, we're going home. Let's get you up."
Her hands moved to his biceps and she felt him hold her elbows and carefully pull her up with him. He curved an arm around her waist and moved his other hand to hold (Y/n)'s hip. When she had her bag on her shoulder and she nodded, they followed Tina towards the door.
(Y/n) suddenly wished she had a transporter. She wished she could zap herself from here directly to the jeep. Or find a time machine that would rewind back to this morning or fast-forward to this evening so she wouldn't have to feel like this. She wouldn't have to see if anyone was still hanging around the toilets trying to see what was going on. She wouldn't have to deal with what Sandra had said or remember the snide look on her face when she ran out of class.
Opening the door, Tina stood to one side and waited for the couple to walk out but her lips curled into a grimace when she looked around.
Sandra. Stood by their classroom door, leaning against the wall with a smile on her lips that radiated unease and sinister intentions. Along with dark eyes that were just looking to cause mayhem.
"How is she?"
(Y/n) dropped her gaze to the floor and turned to the left, trying to steer Evan back in the other direction towards the exit. She couldn't be bothered with Sandra any longer. She wasn't worth the hassle of pretending to be nice and (Y/n) didn't want to see the way she would act around Evan or what she would say.
She instinctively knew Sandra would play it nice and try to pretend she was a friend. She would want to act the concerned friend. She would want to talk to Evan because in her mind, Evan was trapped with (Y/n) and he wasn't happy with her. She wanted to cause trouble.
When she stepped closer, Tina stepped back and moved to stand on (Y/n)'s other side. They weren't going to give her the time of day.
But Evan could see the way both girls seemed to change and become uneasy when they looked across at the other girl in the corridor. His arm instinctively tightened around (Y/n)'s waist and he leaned down so he could hover his lips over the shell of her ear, pretending to place a kiss there.
"Is that her? Sandra?" He murmured quietly, wracking his brain to try and remember the name of the girl (Y/n) was worried about.
He knew (Y/n) didn't mention her often and it worried him because he didn't know if this girl was saying things to (Y/n) that she wasn't telling him. He had no idea if she was upsetting (Y/n) or being rude to her or trying to cause problems because (Y/n) wouldn't tell him. She didn't want to cause problems when she was so close to graduating and she didn't see the point in telling Evan and upsetting him.
It was a relief last week that Maddie had quietly told Evan what happened in the store. He had to know if that was happening, he had to know so he could do something about it.
(Y/n) stayed silent but when Evan looked between Tina and Sandra, he got his answer as Tina nodded her head and stuck her nose in the air as if Sandra was a bad smell they needed to get away from.
When she felt Evan's arm unhook from her waist, (Y/n) looked up at him with wide eyes that were pooling with fear when he started to move. She wrapped both her hands around his bicep and shook her head, trying to hold his arm against her chest and stop him from doing something he shouldn't.
"Evan-" Her hands started to shake as Evan reached up and entwined their hands together to stop her from panicking.
He kept tight hold of (Y/n)'s hand and pinned her arm into his side, preventing her from trying to pull him away. He felt her head press into his arm out of anxious habit while his body turned to the right so he was facing the girl he had never met before but had a distinct amount of anger towards.
"You're a piece of work."
Evan's words clearly took Sandra by surprise. She leaned on her back foot and took a cautious look around the hall, checking to see if anyone else was nearby or within hearing range. But it was just the four of them out here now.
Her eyes narrowed in on Evan's hand when he pointed his free hand at her and straightened his shoulders, towering in front of her like a bad omen.
"My sister told me what you said to (Y/n) last week. So listen to me, madam. If I find out you've been tormenting my girl again, I'll be back down here and I'll get you suspended from class. She means the world to me. Stay away from her."
He could tell his words had the right impact because a furious blush crept onto Sandra's face and she couldn't look anywhere but down at her shoes. The way she swallowed and started to dig her nails into her palms told Evan his message seemed to have gotten through to her, so he turned around.
He let go of (Y/n)'s hand so he could loop his arm around her shoulders and tuck her into his side while his lips merged with the top of her head.
Evan had no problems coming back here and talking to (Y/n)'s professor if he found out Sandra had said or done anything else after today. He wasn't having it. (Y/n) had every right to be in class and to do her work and not feel scared or victimised by the people around her. She hadn't done anything wrong and they had no right to be as cruel to her as they were.
"Let's go home, Maddie's coming over." He kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head while he felt her turn and press her cheek into his chest as they walked out.
He had called Maddie on his way down and asked if she would come over both to check (Y/n) was okay and to stay with them for a while. He had a feeling (Y/n) would be shaken up after this and thought it might be good to have Maddie round with them for tea. Then if (Y/n) felt any worse or was sick again, Maddie would be there to help.
It was tempting to turn around and look behind him to see if Sandra had run off or if she was still stood there watching them leave. But he forced himself to keep walking, pushing his focus solely on his girl tucked beneath his arm. She was his world.
And Evan wasn't going to allow anyone to upset her again.
#911 imagine#imagine#evan buckley#evan buckley x reader#pregnant! reader#evan buckley imagine#buck x reader#buck imagine#baby trapped
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you should do a kate martin x reader fic where they are teammates who’ve been dating for awhile and then accidentally go public!!
yes of course! thank you so much for your request :)
Victorious
pairing: kate martin x teammate!reader
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your eyes fluttered opened and you picked up your phone from your bedside table. it read 6:00 AM. you sighed. it was time to get up. you rolled over and were met with your teammate/roommate/girlfriend’s chest. she just laid they’re staring down at you, “good morning sleepy girl! i’ve been waiting for you to wake up,” she stroked your hair and gave you a kiss on the forehead. “big game today, sunshine. you ready?”
you groaned and buried your head into her chest. “nooooo.” kate got out of bed and dragged you with her. you were upset to leave the comfort and warmth of your bed, but you’d go anywhere she went. she grabbed your hand and led you into the bathroom. the two of you began to brush your teeth.
“you gonna shower?” kate asked, moving her eyebrows are you suggestively. you playfully pushed her shoulder as you wiped the excess toothpaste off your lips. “kate!” you exclaimed and laughed at her antics. she snaked her arms around your waist and gave you a playful grin, “whatttt? it’s for good luck!”
“oh stop. we can celebrate tonight when we win.”
kate’s face grew red and she quickly nodded in agreement. you gave her a wink.
there wasn’t much to do to prepare for your game. it was a home game so there was no need to pack your bags. you and kate had a slow morning, with her cooking you guys some breakfast. you were never a morning person until your mornings started to include kate. she was so gentle with you, and you loved the way she helped you wake up to softness and love every morning. she flipped a pancake on the stove and you walked up behind her, wrapping your arms around her and burying your face into her back.
“mm love you so much, kate kat.”
after breakfast, you did your makeup and lightly curled your hair; kate insisting on putting it into a ponytail herself. you, of course, let her. how could you say no to her? you helped kate put her hair into a ponytail then braided it for her.
in usual kate fashion, she couldn’t keep her hands off of you. physical touch was her love language and she just wanted to hold you. that was something she loved about you, you were always down to snuggle up to her. she lifted you up, sitting you on the bathroom counter and peppered your face with kisses. “why aren’t you more excited, y/n? it’s game day! you’re usually so hyped!”
you sighed and looked up at your girlfriend, a worried expression on your face. “kate, can i ask for your advice about something?” she nodded her head as if to say of course and you continued, “i’m just, well, nervous. i didn’t have a good practice yesterday and i’m just so scared to mess up. i don’t want it to be all my fault if we lose.” you looked up at kate waiting expectantly for her reply. she took your hands in hers and stared into your eyes.
“as your girlfriend, i will always be here to support you, win or lose. i’m so proud of you everyday and i see how much your hard work is paying off, pretty girl. as captain, i need you to know that it’s not ever your fault. this game is a team effort and it will take a team effort to win it. you just need to try your best like i know you will. that’s all anyone’s expecting of you, i promise you that.”
you smiled and wrapped your arms around kate’s neck. “you are seriously so sweet. oh my god, kate i could just kiss you. thank you so much for helping, you actually made me feel so much better.”
“don’t mention it, it’s my job baby! however i will take you up on that kiss offer if you don’t mind me.” she snuck several kisses from you before you had to leave for you game.
when you arrived to the gymnasium, coach had you all circle up and gave you a pep talk. after her words of encouragement, she left caitlin and kate to give their pep talks to you. kate held your hand as she spoke to the team, in a last minute’s effort to stay close to you before the fans and media started arriving and you two had to go back to being just teammates and close friends.
you admired kate’s words of affirmation, earlier in your shared bathroom and now on the court. she really was the glue keeping everyone all together. you stared at her face and counted the freckles on her face, “who knew glue could be so cute?” you thought to yourself.
“uh what was that, y/n?” kate smirked at you. oh. maybe you hadn’t just thought that to yourself.
the game started and things were going a bit rocky at first. you’d fumbled a pass, and missed a shot as well. you wanted nothing more than to just cry into kate’s shoulder. you looked over at her and saw she was looking right back at you. she gave you a smile as if to say, ‘you got this. i’m rooting for you!’. you smiled back and she winked at you. you rolled your eyes playfully. she was going to get the two of you caught if she kept acting like that.
with newfound confidence, you played harder than ever. in the third quarter, you even scored a three! each time you made a shot, you looked over at kate and saw her beaming with pride.
the score was 67-68. you guys were losing by one point. with only 10 seconds left you were worried out of your mind. suddenly, you see the ball being passed to you. you weren’t close enough to confidently shoot it, and you looked to see who was open. low and behold, you see kate’s sparkly eyes staring you. of course there was some bias there, but she was your obvious choice. ‘let’s win this babe’ you mouthed her to and passed the ball to her.
The Sports broadcasters announced the Iowa win and you ran to kate screaming. you both were so happy you actually pulled it off. you were so happy in fact that you forgot you two were just teammates. kate lifted you up and spun you around. “oh my god! we did it!! i love you so much pretty girl i knew we could do it!” and you and your whole team just stared at her, shocked.
it took a moment, but eventually it registered for kate what she had just done. she had just revealed your secret romance to the entire media. “you know what? fuck it” you whispered to partly yourself and partly to kate. “i want everyone to know your mine.”
you grab the neck of kate’s jersey and pulled her face down to yours, kissing her softly but deeply. kate was shocked but lent into the kiss. you smiled into it, imagining what crazy edits this moment would be made into. but you didn’t care. at the end of the day, you had kate. and you had a win. you never knew victory could taste so sweet.
ahh all done i hope you like ittttt! please keep sending requests :)
#kate martin x reader#kate martin#iowa wbb#iowa hawkeyes#paige bueckers#wcbb#wcbb x reader#caitlin clark#caitlin clark x reader
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My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 5,818
Warning: dirty talk, language, making out, wedding duties (lol), oral sex, smutty smut
A/N: Our final part 🥹💚 wow what a journey! There will be an epilogue for our sweet beans next week! Along with the start of the Best Friend!Suguru series.I'm so sorry for the late post, I was so sick yesterday and sleepy from my medication! But better late than never! ! If you want to be included in the tag list, YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six
For two days, two days, you and Satoru spent most of the time in your room. Wrapped up in your sheets, him on top of you, you on top of him. You only separated for the rehearsal dinner and getting your nails done. But the second you were back in his arms, he made up for the lost time like you had been gone for years. His lips were on yours in slow, gentle kisses that became passionate.
Those same kisses would end on the futon, which probably had seen more action in the last forty-eight hours than since the inn opened. Satoru bent you in all different positions, twisting you like a pretzel, stretching you in ways you didn't even know was possible. He made it his goal to make up for the year and a half that you didn’t sleep with anyone. Gojo Satoru turned you into a mess- a withering mess.
“Oooh holy shit.” you cried out, gripping the blanket, “fuuuuck oooh fuck Satoru.”
“Yeah~? Does that feel good~?”
“S-So good~!”
“Mhmm~ good.”
Fingers moved gently, expertly making your back arch, jaw opening in a soft cry of pleasure. Satoru bit his lip, his fingers increasing the pressure against you. Cerulean eyes narrowed, focusing on your face, watching how your eyes rolled back and your face flushed.
“T-Toru~Toru.” Toes curled as you cried softly, eyes watering.
“Oooh yeah~ you gonna cum~?”
Blinking, you lift an eyebrow, watching Satoru wiggle his at you. His fingers are massaging into your sore feet, kneading away knots and easing the aching muscles. Both of you were fully clothed, sitting on the back porch overlooking the gardens. Anyone around would have assumed you both were doing the deed from how loud you were being.
“Oh my god, was I being that loud?”
“What~? No!” You relaxed a little, your feet still in his lap. Thumbs worked at a particularly sore spot, making you whine again. “I’m pretty sure Suguru heard that whine, and he's in Tokyo.”
“Ya’ know what—”
You try pulling your feet away, only to have Satoru yank them back into his lap, inadvertently pulling you closer to him. “Stop, I'm just teasing. Let me do this.” his fingers continue working, moving gently over your feet. “You were in the kitchen all morning, making a three-tier wedding cake. Then those ‘friends’ of yours make you wear heels to take pictures. And you have to wear heels for the wedding tomorrow?” Satoru shook his head, white tufts of hair swaying.
“I offered to bake the cake, the benefit of having a baker as a friend.” His thumbs hit a sore spot, making you jolt. “But the heels are torture.”
“They seem like it.”
A soft, comfortable silence filled with chirping crickets and a distant wind chime grew between you. You just sat there while Satoru rubbed at your sore feet under the blanket of glittering stars. You had one more day together here in Kyoto, then a train ride back home, and you would be back to reality. A reality that had changed drastically over the last week.
When you both retired to your room, you lay in bed staring at the ceiling in thought. You had gone from a woman who was quiet, shy, and hell-bent on not needing anyone to this giggly, joyful woman who couldn’t be any happier. Satoru had peeled away at the layers of scar tissue you had hidden yourself in. He brought a certain confidence out in you. Being with him was as easy as breathing; even when you returned home to your mundane lives, you had faith you both would continue to strive forward. To keep your relationship going strong.
Strong as the urge to stay in bed with him all day despite your fellow bridesmaids pounding on your door the next morning. Satoru grumbled in horny frustration; his cock was pressed firmly over your barely clothed core. You pulled your lips away from his neck, pushing your hair back, groaning at the sudden interruption.
“I have to go, Toru.” You pulled off of him, giggling as he threw his head back. “Hey~ don’t be like that; we’ll pick up where we left off tonight.”
“Wedding sex is the best kind of sex. Especially when you’re on a sugar rush.”
You looked over your shoulder at him, grinning ear to ear. “That sounds enticing.” Satoru sat up on his elbows, licking his lips.
“Oh, it’s gonna happen tonight,” Satoru promised with a shake of his head. “I promise you that.”
Another knock at the door, “If you don’t come out! We’re coming in! Regardless of how indecent you two are!” A series of knocks sounded from the other side of the door by several different hands from the sound of it.
”I better go before they knock down the door.” With a pout, you leaned down, kissing Satoru goodbye before heading out. “I’ll see you later!” just before you shut the door to the room, you pouted as Satoru watched, sticking his bottom lip out. “It’s just three hours, babe!”
Three hours flew by before you knew it. The excitement of getting ready for the wedding and seeing your best friend practically buzzing in anticipation fueled everyone's energy. While you were bouncing up and down eagerly waiting to see Satoru in a tailored suit. Just imagining him had you grinning as you stared out the bridal suite window, looking towards the garden decorated for the joyous event.
“So, when are you and Satoru getting married?”
”Eh!?” All of your friends surrounded you, devilish smiles gracing their faces. “I-I—we are not getting married!” At least not yet. “We’ve barely started going out.” Literally. “There’s no indication that we're even considering that!”
“Oh, please!”
“Says the girl that’s been locked in her room with said boyfriend for the last two days!”
Your face burned like a fresh sunburn. “S-So! That does not mean that we’re getting married anytime soon!” All of your friends booed in protest. “Will the whole lot of you stop? Seriously, I don’t want you guys scaring off Satoru!” The bride stepped forward in her gown and all of her glory. “Finally, Mina, will you please talk some sense into them!?” Your best friend looked amongst the other girls, all dressed in a beautiful sky blue. For a moment, you thought she might take your side. But the second a smirk at the corner of her mouth, you knew she didn’t have your back.
“I was going to ask you the same question! The man would’ve fucked you against the wall at the bar no one stopped him!”
“Oh my God!”
“I’m serious! I think I’ll hand you the bouquet when I toss it!”
“Please don’t.”
“Oh, I think I will!”
“We are not getting married—not yet!”
Satoru sat off to the side, right next to your parents, as the wedding started. He watched with wide and sparkling eyes as you walked down the aisle with a groomsman. Your hair was styled beautifully, and the flowing sky-blue dress looked stunning on your figure and complimented your skin tone. His mouth felt suddenly dry as you looked at him, giving him a gentle, sweet smile. Cupid himself must have shot him through the heart at that moment because fuck, he was falling so hard for you.
“Ma’am—“ he learned next to your mother's ear, “just so you know, the next wedding we host here will be ours.”
“Huh?!”
Her reaction didn’t even seem to faze him. All he cared about was standing near the front of an outdoor arch decor with flowers of different colors—a gentle breeze brushed by you, making your hair and the dress flow. Even when the bride made her grand entrance, everyone turned to see her walking down the aisle towards her future husband. Satoru had his eyes locked on you.
You could feel his eyes, and that burning sensation had your focus transfixed on him. Was it wrong to be looking at your wedding date instead of the bride-to-be? The chances of that were very likely. But how could you not stare back? When his eyes burned holes into your very soul and left your heart racing like you had just run a marathon. It was impossible to pay attention to anyone else.
He was so handsome. Satoru was wearing a white button-down shirt with a blue tie that matched your dress. His navy blue jacket and pants were tailored to his body perfectly. You could tell by its appearance that it was expensive. It was probably more expensive than your best friend's wedding dress. You wanted to rip it off of him and let him take you right there in the garden.
Yes, he was extremely good-looking. But it wasn’t his clothes or his appearance or the fact that he had money that made you so attracted to him at that moment. The way he looked at you, eyes trailing over your body, with a soft grin, told you everything you needed to know. Satoru truly cared for you. This wasn’t just about sex, and it wasn’t the magic of the wedding to be. Chemistry, connection, and attraction were one hundred percent genuine.
After exchanging vows and rings, hundreds of pictures were taken with everyone. You were finally free from your wedding duties. The first thing you did as soon as you broke away from the rest of the group was run to Satoru’s side. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight to his chest. Lips pressed against the temple of your head, and you could’ve sworn he let out a little sigh of happiness to have you back in his arms.
“You look so fucking beautiful.” He cupped a strand of hair behind your ear before gently reaching down, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Is it wrong for me to say you’re even more beautiful than the bride?”
“Satoru!” you playfully punched at his shoulder, “I am not.”
“Oh, you are; that’s a god-given fact, sweetheart.” His thumbs brushed ever so lovingly over your cheek. “But there’s just one thing I would change about the outfit.”
“You and me both.” You winced, moving your arm away from the scratchy sequins top. “This material is an absolute nightmare for my underarms. I’m serious. You’ll probably have to put lotion on them for me later.”
“Oh.” Satoru deadpans. “ I wasn’t talking about the material.”
You hum in thought, looking over the dress for any flaws he may have noticed. “Oh?” When you didn’t find anything else wrong with the dress in your eyes, you tilted your head, looking up at Satoru. “Well, what would you change about it then?” His hand gently pulled your face closer to his own; he leaned down, the fresh smell of minty lemonade coaxing your nostrils.
“I’d change the color.”
“Wait, what?”
Your date says nothing for a beat of silence. “So anyways! Let’s grab our seats; I’ll get you one of the cocktails!”
He rambles on while you’re still stuck on how he would change the color of your dress. Surely, he meant he would do a different shade or maybe red instead of blue; there’s no possible way that he was talking about it to white. Yeah, he didn’t mean that at all! Your friends just put the stupid notion in your head that you guys are going to get married next. You didn’t even know what the two of you were yet. You hadn’t put a label on your relationship.
What you did know was that Satoru wanted to make your relationship work. So you knew for sure that you weren’t just another fuck buddy or client. This went deeper than that. What you both had was real, which was a lot more than other couples had. So who knew, maybe your friends were right? Perhaps Satoru had thought that white would make your dress look one million times better.
These were questions and answers for another day. You weren’t going to rush into things. Both of you wanted to take your time and get to know one another.
And you learned a lot of things about him as the party began. Like how he despised the taste of alcohol, he had mentioned it in passing when he walked you to the bachelorette party. But when he accidentally took a sip of a cocktail unintentionally, not knowing it had alcohol in it, the man sputtered and choked. His hands grabbed a cola from the bartender, chugging it like water. You learned that he was a pretty good dancer. He bumped and ground with you on the dance floor while the music blared. You learned how gentle his hands were as he slowly danced with you to one of the many love songs the DJ played.
He was so tentative to you. He’d always make sure you had a drink of some kind. He insisted that you drink plenty of water to avoid getting drunk. He even went to the room and grabbed your sandals when your high heels bothered you. God, he was everything and then some. If you hadn’t called for each other, he truly would have made this wedding a lot of fun for you. There was no doubt that he was worth every penny you were willing to spend to have a good time.
The party has toned down almost entirely, a few stragglers drunkenly laughing and drinking while others chat while eating the vanilla and raspberry compote cake you had made. Your best friend and her husband are one of two couples on the floor dancing to a slow song. The other was Satoru and the flower girl who had been smitten with his white hair and blue eyes. She was convinced he was Prince charming and begged him to dance with her. Satoru jumped at the opportunity. Gently placing her little feet on top of his shoes as he danced with her to the slow beat of the music.
Your gaze was locked on him as you nursed a cup of coffee between your hands. He was so perfect in every way, shape, and form. Satoru had made this one of the best nights of your entire life. God, you don’t think you’ve ever had so much fun at a wedding before. It was all thanks to him that you were having one of the most memorable nights of your life.
Those deep, happy thoughts are cut short when a tiny, chubby hand gently smacks your cheek. The sudden contact has you jumping, nearly spilling the hot coffee over your hands as you turn to see who has smacked you. You’re met with beautiful, big navy-colored eyes—dark tufts of hair spill over the head as the baby gently smacks your cheek again.
“Please don’t hit me, I have my kid.” a familiar voice speaks, “and don’t yell, please.”
You scoff, cocking an eyebrow up at Toji as he sits down in the chair next to you. “Are you seriously using your kid as a human shield?” Your ex shakes his head before looking over his shoulder, searching for someone.
“I cannot confirm nor deny that.” He cradles the babbling baby in his lap. “But if my wife is around, I will deny every word.”
“So you are using your child as a human shield.”
“Well, it’s working, isn’t it?”
“What do you want, Toji?”
He cradles his son in one arm, reaching into his suit jacket with his free hand. Toji pulls out a manila envelope and places it in front of you. Gingerly, taking it off the table, you open it and find the money you had left in the kitchen the other day. The money he almost ruined your relationship with Satoru over and the money you’d spent on him
He exhales deeply through his nose before clearing his throat. “What I did was wrong.” His son babbles, chubby little hands pulling the sleeve of his jacket. “I just wanted to apologize for everything that happened. I broke your heart, not once but twice. You, of all people, don’t deserve to be treated like that.” You cock an eyebrow. “And no, I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I just wanted to say that I was sorry. For breaking off our engagement the way that I did. For almost sabotaging your relationship with that brat over there.” His head jerks in Satoru’s direction.
“Yeah, you almost fucked that up for me.”
“Well, luckily, you guys worked it out.”
“Yeah, we did.” For the first time all week, you don’t feel the slightest bit of dread being near Toji. Maybe it was because you slapped the shit out of him, or perhaps it was because you felt as though your last confrontation was able to heal your wounds. “He’s a great guy.”
“Great for an escort.”
“Former escort.” You correct him with a smug smile. “Satoru sent in his resignation letter on Thursday after we talked.”
Toji’s eyes went wide before they softened with a gentle gaze that you hadn’t seen since high school. “Well shit, I guess I had him pegged wrong.” Taking another sip of your coffee, you giggle before resting your chin on your fist.
“I thought you said you were the greatest PI.”
“Nah, I’m one of the best.” Toni leans back, and in this light, you can see the slight discoloration on his face from both you and Satoru’s hits the other day. “I’m far from being the greatest. I wasn’t for you, but—“ he pressed his lips against his son’s head. “I’m trying to be a better person for this brat and my wife.”
“You always were an asshole.” Your point-blank statement had him wincing. “But if you hadn’t been an asshole, I wouldn’t have become the person I am today. So thanks for being a dick.”
Toji tilts his head, chuckling. “You’re welcome, I guess.” A squealing babble has both you and Toji glancing down at his son. He gently gums at his father’s jacket, drooling over the fabric. Toji sighs and gently lifts the baby to stare at him. When he does, those navy blue eyes glance towards his chest that's straining against the fabric. His son smacks his lips in hunger. “Fuck, I gotta find my wife; the little shits hungry again. And I’d rather not have him gnawing at my pecs.” He stands and pauses before turning his child to face you.
The tiny human gurgles at you, tilting his head. “Uhm, Toji, I can’t feed him.” Your ex rolls his eyes so hard you can almost hear it.
“Yeah, I fuckin’ know, I just—“ he sighs, “this is my son, Fushiguro Megumi.” You can’t help but smile at his name; a blessing.
“Well, hello there, Megumi.” You gently pet his hair back. “It’s nice to meet you; whatever you do, don’t turn out to be like your father.”
Toji barks out a sharp laugh, nodding his head. “Yeah, that’s for sure.” Megumi laughs loudly, smacking his hands against your face.
“Toji!” Both of you turn to see a woman with dark hair waving at him.
“That’s the wife, we’re leaving.” He cradles Megumi into his side ever so gently. “I’m sorry again for all the shit I put you through in the past and well in the last week.”
“Well, all that shit led me to someone pretty great.” Your eyes drift back to Satoru, who's walking the little girl back to her parents. “All those years of putting up with you gave me some good karma.”
“For putting up with me, you deserve the world.” He scoffs hurriedly to join his wife. “Later.”
You wave goodbye to him, returning to your cup just as Satoru joins you. Two plates with cake in his hands. “Was that Toji!?” His ocean eyes meet yours, searching for any sign or tears of frustration. “The hell did he want?” He shoves the sweet cake into his mouth before offering you a bite, which you eagerly take.
“Mhm, he just wanted to give me the money he owed me.”
“What you should have given him was a knuckle sandwich.” Your soft giggle has butterflies swarming inside his stomach.
“I already gave him one, so I’ll gladly take the money this time.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He takes another bite of cake. “It would be a shame for you to bruise those knuckles again.”
You press your body against him, relishing in the warmth. “You know I don’t even care anymore. I got hurt in the past. I wallowed in my self-pity for over a year. But things are starting to look up for me now.” He hummed, turning to press a kiss against your forehead. “All thanks to my—“You hesitate, not sure if you want to be the one to put a label on your relationship.
“Boyfriend.” Satoru finishes for you, making your hearts swell with joy.
“Yes, my boyfriend.”
Satoru takes one last bite of his cake before wiping the mixture of whipped cream and buttercream off with his thumb. “Mmm, I love hearing you say that. It sounds so damn pretty rolling off your tongue.” You grinned, gently gripping his hand on your own, squeezing it as you stood.
“Wanna see what else I can do with my tongue~?”
Without hesitation, your boyfriend stands up from the table, following you down the hall. “Oooh? Is the sugar kicking in?” Satoru quickly takes the lead from you, dragging you down the hall and towards the guest rooms.
“It’s not just the sugar.” You correct him. “It’s you.”
The second you step into the room, and the door is slammed shut, Satoru’s on you, cupping your face, kissing you deeply with a guttural moan. You return the kiss, tasting the sweet, tangy remains of the cake on his tongue that worked its way into your mouth. You’re moaning, pushing his jacket off, letting it fall to the ground as you start working on the buttons of his shirt.
While you do that, Satoru runs his hands down your back, searching for a zipper or buttons, only to discover an intricate series of strings. He breaks the kiss, looking down at the saliva connecting your lips before he forces you to turn around so he can start working on the corset holding you hostage. His fingers struggle with the silky strings; he’s far too excited to sit down and take the necessary time to care for this.
“Hey, sweetheart, this isn’t a rental, is it?”
”No, I wish it was; I seriously haye the sequins, Toru.” You huff out, feeling his hands gently grip both sides of the back of the dress.
”So you wouldn’t be heartbroken if anything were to happen to it?”
”No, I guess I woul—“ RIIIP!! “Oh fuck!” You tumble as Satoru uses all of his strength to rip down the back of the dress—the thin fabric pools around your feet before Satoru turns you back to face him. The second you do, he drops to his knees in front of you and kisses down your bare chest, all the way to your lace panties. “S-Satoru~”
“Mmm, I wanna show you what I can do with my tongue.” He states flatly before tugging your panties down. “I get to eat two sweet treats tonight. Your amazing cake and your delicious pussy.”
His tongue instantly slides over your clit, making you grip his hair for support in fear that you are going to buckle over. Your hand grips the soft strands of hair, winning the softest of groans from him. While your fingers run through his hair, only make him move his tongue faster, with the sole purpose of making you cum.
Unfortunately for you, even if you were willing to hold off, Satoru is just too good at what he does. He teases your clit, going between gentle flicks, suckling on it, and writing his name against it with the tip of his tongue. His antics and techniques leave you nearly falling over, wishing you were on the futon. There was something about towering over him, though, bucking your pussy against his willing mouth that gave you a certain sense of empowerment.
You could see why men would like a woman on their knees. It was fun holding all of the power to make Satoru do what you wanted, to keep his face in place with you humping his tongue. You could have cum from just thinking of riding his face like this. Doing it though, fuck, it was so hot.
Satoru thought so, too; his jaw opened wide as he flattened his tongue, allowing you to use his mouth as you saw fit. His hand gently reached around, grabbing the fat of your ass, encouraging you to move and grind faster against him, wanting for you to cum. His squeezing you had your head falling forward, strands of your kiss-messy hair falling as you came hard, rolling your hips in time with the waves crashing over you. Satoru hummed happily, lapping up the juices you kindly offered him.
“Fuck, oooh fuck Satoru.” Your knees were buckling as he gently peppered hisses down your inner thighs. “I don’t think I can walk after that.”
”Hm? Oh, don’t worry about that.” He lifted you gently, placing you down on the futon. “I have a perfect place for you to sit.” You watched in awe as your boyfriend stripped out of his clothes and slipped on a condom before standing completely naked in front of you. “Now, what do you say,” Satoru laid down, grabbing your hips and pulling you to straddle him. “We pick up where we left off this morning before your friends rudely interrupted us.”
”Mmm, I love the sound of that.” Sitting back ever so slightly, you gently grabbed his cock, easing the thick throbbing tip inside of you. “Ah~ fuck I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how thick you are.” You cry out as you slowly begin to slide yourself down his shaft with a whimper.
”And I’ll never get over how tight and warm you are.” Large hands gently grip your hip, holding you as you sit down on him, his cock fully buried inside of you. “God, I can’t wait to feel how wet you are one of these days.” He hisses through his teeth as you slowly begin to rock back and forth on him. “Y-You fuck, sweetie, you feel so fucking good!”
“Yeah, so do you, Toru; I feel you getting bigger inside me.”
“And I can feel you clamping down.”
Knowing that he could feel just how good you were feeling was the only entice you needed to pick up your pace, your gentle rocks becoming a bit faster and harder as you gently began bouncing up and down on him. Your sudden increase in speed had Satoru choking on a raspy whine, his head tilting back as you placed your hands on his chest, steadying yourself. This position was one of your favorites. You were able to watch Satoru’s face contort with pleasure while his cock hit all the right places deep inside of you.
Satoru also loved this position because he got to see how relaxed you were, how he was able to grope your perfect tits, his thumbs brushing gently over your sensitive nipples. But his favorite thing about this position was being able to touch you. Not just your breasts, as great as those were. Running his large palms down your hips and over the top of your thighs, feeling your muscles twitch made happy, satisfied grunts leave his mouth. But it was when you interlace your fingers with his that got his heart pounding.
Your hips were moving faster, harder against him. Your smaller fingers held on to his for support, squeezing them gently as your tiny whines turned into desperate moans as your fucked yourself on him.
”Toru, oooh fuck~”
”Yeah, you close?” His fingers gave yours a gentle squeeze. “You gonna cum? Make me cum with you? I feel it coming back, god, I feel it; you’re going to make me cum so fucking hard.”
”Y-Yeah wanna make you cum, cum with me, Satoru, please I need it, need it so fucking bad.”
Satoru groaned, nodding his head as you slammed yourself up and down on him, his hips bucking up to meet you, fucking the tip of his cock directly into your cervix. You both are moaning so loud you know people will be calling the front desk to file a complaint, but you could care less about all of that. All that mattered right now was you and Satoru.
“Ooooh fuck me.” You cry out, releasing your boa constrictor grip on his hands, digging them into the bedding as you fall forward onto his chest. Your hips bounce up and down faster and harder, skin slapping against skin as your ass slams down. “Satoru, I’m gonna—“
”M-Me too, baby, holy fuck me too!” Satoru’s hands grip the sides of your hips, forcing you to move faster, which seems almost impossible. “Fuck, oooh fuck, fuck shit!” He’s gritting his teeth as you cry out into the side of his neck. “Oh, holy fuckin shit, baby! I’m cumming! Cumming inside you!”
With one final slam, both of your bodies go rigid as the orgasms hit you at the same time. Your pulsating walls have Satoru’s cock throbbing eagerly deep inside of you, filling the condom. Leaving both of you shaking, sweaty messes. Satoru recovers first, his hands gently caressing your sides as you lay all your weight on top of him. While you gently press open-mouthed kisses over his collarbone.
It isn’t until your muscles are protesting the position that you’re in that you finally move. Satoru helps you push off of him gently, laying you down next to his side. His fingers brush some of your hair back before he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. You kiss him back burying yourself into his chest as his hands gently move up and down your back.
“So, how was our first date?” The gentle tone of Satoru’s voice has you happily humming.
“One of the best dates I ever had in my entire life.”
“Yeah, I have to agree with you on that one.” His hand continued to rub up and down your back gently. “I can’t wait to go on another and another, and god, I just want to go on countless dates with you.” He waits for you to respond, to say anything. When you don’t say a word, he peers down, finding you sleepily snuggled against him. Your hard work from the last few days has finally caught up to you. “Get some sleep.” He whispered, disposing of the condom before pulling the sheet over your body as he shut his eyes, too, following you into a deep sleep.
The next day was a blur at the inn. From packing your bags, checking out, and bidding farewell to your parents before you at Satoru took the train back to Tokyo. Where you both leaned against each other, still tired from the last week and the wedding from the night before. You only fully regain consciousness when the train pulls up to your stop. You grab your bags in silence as you slowly leave the train.
It didn’t feel real that the week was finally over. That tonight would be the first night you would be alone in a week. Part of you dreaded the night you were about to spend alone in your apartment. But you didn’t want to be clingy and ask Satoru to stay the night.
While your relationship had been entirely out of order, you didn’t want to ruin it right when it began. There would be another time for Satoru to spend the night with you. You are almost certain he would love to go home to his apartment and unwind.
So you stopped in front of the coffee shop where you met each other for the first time. Turning around, you adjusted the backpack on your shoulder, winning a slightly confused look from your new boyfriend. Swallowing hard, you hugged him tight before pulling back.
“Thank you again for everything.” You wet your bottom lip with your tongue. “I can’t thank you enough. Text me later. Maybe we could meet up for coffee or dinner sometime this week. Go on our second date.”
Satoru said nothing for a moment as you fiddled with the handle of your suitcase. “Hey.” He finally broke the silence, his hand gently grabbing yours. “Would now be too soon to take you on our second date?” Light shimmered in your eyes as Satoru put his sunglasses on. “I know this great spot for brunch.” You felt your heart swell as he rubbed at his slightly slushed neck. “I just—I don’t want to say goodbye yet.” Round sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing his breathtaking eyes. “But if you’re too tired or busy, later this week would be fine, I gue—” You reach up, pressing your index finger gently over his lips, silencing him.
“Brunch sounds great.”
“Great!” Satoru beams gently, interlocking your hands as you make your way up to the surface. “You’re going to love it.” You gently squeezed his hand as you stepped into the bustling streets of Tokyo. A week ago, you never would have thought the man you had hired to be your wedding date would be taking you out on your second date, hopefully leading to many more.
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Sorry I've taken so long to address this, I've had a very busy day and didn't have time to finish this post (which I started yesterday).
I'm talking, of course, about the incredibly controversial situation surrounding DD right now. I've gotten some messages about it so I figured I'd give my thoughts in a bigger post so that I don't have to keep repeating myself.
(CW: racism, spoilers FPU)
I know that by now most people are aware of the situation, but I'm going to start from square one for those who are just catching up on the topic.
There is a scene in Formed Police Unit where Chinese UN peacekeeping troops need to rescue a group of citizens who are surrounded by terrorists. In order to accomplish this they disguise themselves as people from the community. This being Africa, the troops were disguised using blackface.
Yes, I am saying that DD and his castmates appear in the film in blackface.
I am not going to post a picture of that here. It's just something I can't post on my blog. I understand that many of you will want to see for yourself so I'll link a clip of the scene, which was posted on Weibo. Please be aware before clicking - this is full-on blackface. Always take care of yourselves, and if you think it might be upsetting to you don't click. You don't need to see it to be a 'good fan'.
Background
For those who may not know, this movie was filmed years ago, in 2021. During those years I have seen many anti attacks against DD, claiming that he is racist and has worn blackface. Here's the photo that was circulating back then.
At the time I thought the makeup that he was wearing was likely anti-reflective black paint or camouflage paint such as is used by snipers (which he played in the film). I assumed that he was wearing his own hoodie over part of a military costume, because he was wearing a cammo shirt and what might have been combat trousers.
I was certainly not expecting full-on blackface from this movie.
There's no getting around it - this is extremely difficult to look at.
Blackface is widely viewed as offensive and racist. It shouldn't be hard to understand why. Putting on another person's ethnicity like a costume is deeply insensitive, particularly when you consider that BIPOC (black, indigenous, and other people of color) are so frequently targeted, exploited and marginalized. For those in positions of privilege and power to put on the appearance of the people who they oppress and exploit... it's just shocking and awful.
Blackface is most frequently talked about in an American context, but it's actually a problem globally - including in China. More on all that here.
The film
I have not actually seen the film, so I don't know much about the context beyond what is being discussed in the fandom. As I said earlier, in the film a group of UN police officers need to infiltrate an area in the community and take on disguises in order to do so.
In promotional media this film is being presented as based on true stories from real missions*. It seems the situation in question really happened on a Chinese peacekeeping mission, and the UN troops disguised themselves as black citizens in order to infiltrate and extract the endangered captives.
*I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt on this because it doesn't change how I feel it should have been handled.
This is important context that is being conveniently left out of much of the backlash about this situation. People are outright claiming that DD plays a black person in the movie - that he wore blackface to perform a role that a black actor could have played. This simply isn't true, and people making these claims are antis and liars. There's simply no excuse for not knowing the full context.
Having said that, I don't really think it matters how it ended up in the film. I do not think there is such a thing as a palatable or appropriate use of blackface. In this day and age it is nearly universally understood to be racist, and it's extremely controversial.
I can understand if they were trying to be accurate to the mission that they were portraying, but surely there are other ways they could have accomplished this scene (perhaps with the clothing but not the blackface). 'Historical accuracy' isn't as important as cultural sensitivity, not by any stretch of the imagination. In the interest of respecting audiences they could have adapted the scene to make the use of blackface unnecessary.
I really see no excuse for anything like this in 2024.
Audience reactions
Chinese sensibilities around these topics are very different from what we are used to in the West.
According to fan repos audiences initially didn't recognize any of the actors, and once it became apparent that they were in disguise, laughter erupted around the room. In fact, most fans are laughing a lot at the photos and video even on social media (although some Chinese netizens have been upset by it and have voiced complaints to various stakeholders).
It is also being widely discussed on Chinese social media as an exciting scene of heroism in the film.
I feel the need to point out that the laughter and mockery is a huge part of the harm, here. As if it's not bad enough that these actors are performing in blackface and presenting a perversion of black ethnicity, it also becomes an opportunity for audiences to mock and disrespect black people. It's become an opportunity for social media to be filled with racist jokes and mockery.
Roadshow statements
There have been some clips circulating of PR and roadshow moments with black cast members and some black audience members who have spoken up in support of the film and to thank the cast and crew for telling the story. Here's one example.
International fans have been dismissing those statements as ignorant or coerced, which I think is offensive and deeply fucked up. There's no planet on which I'm going to - with a totally straight face - say that a black person's response to the movie is not legitimate just because it doesn't comport with my own view.
This is a complex issue and there are inevitably going to be a lot of different perspectives. I hope people won't exacerbate the problem by supplanting black voices on this issue with their own, no matter what's being said. If there's any manipulation going on, let's assume it was in their choosing supportive black figures to speak for the film rather than claim that the black spokespeople are insincere.
China has a lot of issues with racism, there's no doubt about it. It's a huge part of why so many people try to whiten their skin, or why they mock each other when their skin gets tanned/darker. There is a lot of sinister, fucked up stuff going on in China around race - both in the country and in their dealings with other countries.
But we can't claim to speak for black people in China, particularly when they are speaking for themselves! I would hope this is extremely obvious!
Where's DD in all this?
It's understandable that bystanders will react to what they're seeing and might immediately deem it unacceptable - and DD along with it. Their reactions are valid, but as fans I hope that we can look at him with a bit more empathy. I hope that we can take a moment to try to see things from his perspective.
DD has been interested in and an avid fan of black culture since he was a small child. We've all seen how much he immerses himself in hip hop, street dance and the accompanying music and fashion. And yes, he's been accused of cultural appropriation in the past for wearing locs and durags.
However, I think fans need a bit of perspective here to get a sense of where DD might be coming from. Here's a guy who loves black culture, who has close friends who are black, who regularly works with black artists and who supports black artists, in a culture where racism against black people is prevalent and often extreme.
I think DD would probably be amazed to hear the accusations of racism against him. He likely has very few people in his orbit who are anywhere near as supportive of or as closely connected to black people as he is. He likely stands out in his circle as being particularly into black culture and connected with black artists, and probably regularly faces ignorant questions or digs from people around him about his close association with black artists and culture.
Not just because of racism alone, but also due to the racist parallels the government tends to draw between black culture, street dance, hip hop, etc. and criminality/moral degradation*. It's likely that ignorant people in his orbit have expressed concern or wariness toward him because of these associations.
*That is, until breakdancing became an Olympic sport, then they were suddenly onboard with some of it.
I'm not saying that he doesn't have a lot of learning to do (and if this situation becomes what I think it might become, he'll have a big opportunity to do so), I'm just saying that his ignorance isn't mean-spirited. He's coming at this from a totally different angle than any of us are, and he is immersed in a totally different cultural perspective than our own. In his world, his interest likely makes him a bit of an anomaly.
So those painting him as a horrible racist... it's just not how I see it.
The element of choice
I've heard many people say that DD 'didn't have any choice' about this role, that turning it down would not have been an option or that he would be under some kind of threat if he didn't take this role. I don't agree with that characterization of things. I don't think it's quite as 'gun to the head' as a lot of fans paint it.
I think it's more likely that he simply didn't realize that the role would involve blackface when he accepted it, or that he thought that blackface in this context - to infiltrate a terrorist cell and save civilians - would be fine. We don't need to depict China as forcibly compelling actors to take unwanted roles if we want to make sense of this. There are simpler, more logical explanations.
DD wouldn't have been the one deciding how to depict the scene - he didn't have that power in 2021 - but I also doubt he would have had a major problem with it given everything we know.
We must overcome our Western tendency to see things only from our own perspective. This has a totally different cultural context in China, and the voices we listen to about it should not be issuing exclusively from white faces that are not at ground zero of this situation.
Final thoughts
This film has had me worried from day one. I think most people have been expecting it to be full of offensive portrayals and propagandistic fuckery. There are so many ways in which a Chinese film about the UN is potentially a sticky, tricky mess. This blackface thing is likely just one problem on a towering pile of problems.
However, I'm not going to sugarcoat this - this has the potential to be a real shitshow for DD, and I am concerned. Especially if this film gets an international release.
We need to brace ourselves, because I don't think this is going to just disappear. DD has endorsements with international brands, and this could definitely cause backlash for those brands unless the issue is addressed and the scenes removed. There's no planet on which brands like Chanel and Lacoste can afford to have one of their spokespeople plastered everywhere in blackface.
If this film gets an international release and those scenes are left intact, it's possible he will lose some brands.
Let's hope it doesn't come to that, but let's face it - things like this have consequences, and that's why it's so important for producers and artists to be sensitive about what they're portraying.
While I think there's some endorsement risk here for DD, and the potential loss of some international fans, I want to be clear about one thing: I don't think this will threaten his career overall. In China this just isn't an issue in the way it is internationally.
I do hope the film team addresses this issue in some way, ideally by removing the scenes. They just finished doing a massive edit to remove ZZH from the film, surely they can handle something like this. But let's not hold our breath...
Everyone has the right to make up their minds about DD. As I've often said, being a turtle isn't for the faint of heart. That's not just because turtles are frequent targets for bullies, or because we have to constantly live with uncertainty and doubt.
Being an international turtle also isn't for the faint of heart because there are a lot of cultural and political minefields to navigate, and many ideological differences to adapt to. There's a huge learning curve and a lot of unknowns, and turtles who want to survive have to make peace with the fact that we and the boys are from different worlds in many ways. We may never know where they really stand on issues that are important to us.
However, in this case I feel confident that I know where DD's heart is on this issue. He simply doesn't hold hatred, disrespect or disdain for black people. Quite the contrary.
I think we'd all just feel a lot better if he had a good grasp on how to be a better ally.
And while we're waiting for that, I think we should put our money where our mouths are and learn more about these issues ourselves, both in China and locally at home. We want DD to be a better person; let's be better people too.
#bjyx#yizhan#ggdd controversies#please rebloggers don't tag with his name or the name of the film#i don't want this outside the turtle circle - the fan wars are horrific
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Paper Rings [Part 3 | Paige Bueckers]
Paige Bueckers x fem!reader
Summary: part 3 of the paper rings series! some insight into paige and reader’s friendship before everything happened
A/N: some fluff and fillers before the angst gets real 💔💔
word count: 1.9k
masterlist | [part 1] | [part 2] | [part 4]
FLASHBACK: 1 YEAR AGO
“Is this yours?”
You had been rummaging through Paige’s closet, looking for a clean oversized shirt to wear to sleep. You two often slept over at each other’s place, to the point where your clothes were so mixed up you guys basically shared the same wardrobe. Unfortunately, Paige wasn’t the most organized person, so you were huffing and puffing as you hunted through the piles in the drawers.
The shirt you were holding up had LVN Volleyball Camp splayed across the front, so you knew it definitely wasn’t Paige’s. It was really big though, so you were curious as to whose it was. Just to know if you could wear it or not, you convinced yourself. Not because you were trying to confirm your fears - that this was another girl who Paige had held that wasn’t you.
Paige didn’t look up from her phone when you asked your question, so you crumpled the shirt up into a ball and tossed it at her head. You were no basketball player, but the balled up shirt smacked her on target, right in the face, and you fought back a self satisfied smile.
Paige finally looked up, giving you one of her soft smiles that tugged at your heartstrings. You loved when Paige looked at you like that, all gentle and affectionate, with half of her mouth turned up into a close mouthed grin that you knew so well.
“The shirt,” you gestured at it.
“Oh.” She looked down, unfolding the shirt and studying it before giving out a laugh. “Shit, sorry, that’s Stacy’s. I don’t know how it ended up in my closet. She was just here yesterday.” She folded the shirt into a neat little square and placed it next to her on the bed. “We must’ve been getting a little bit too wild,” she smirked, waggling her eyebrows at me.
Your heart sunk. Yesterday? You mean, you knew Paige talked to a lot of people, but she usually didn’t talk much about it, probably because she knows you get grossed out with too many details. Your chest stinging, you went to sit on the bed next to her. You didn’t wanna find a shirt anymore. All you wanted to do was go to sleep after a long day.
“What’s up? What’s got you being so emo?” Paige got down to lie her head in your lap, looking up at you with her bright blue eyes. Her was nose scrunched slightly, in the way that she does when she’s happy, and she reached up to play with the ends of your hair, twirling the strands between her fingers.
“Nothing. Just tired and moody,” you lied. You drummed your fingers against your thigh.
Paige smirked. “You really need to get laid, Y/N,” she laughed.
You managed to muster out a weak half smile in response to her words, trying to shove down the itchy pain that rose in your heart. “Shut up, Bueckers.”
“Make me.”
You rolled my eyes at her senseless teasing. “You’re such a flirt,” you groaned. Pushing her off your lap, you got up to look for your charger. You could feel Paige’s eyes on you as you moved about her room. Her legs were splayed out, and she was slumped on the bed. You hated when she did that, just looked at you. It felt like she was studying you all bare under a microscope.
The dynamic between the two of you had definitely shifted since last month, ever the drunken incident on the Big East championship night. You had mumbled apologies the morning after, when she had swung by before practice to make sure you were alright. She didn’t really listen to them, shoving you in that good natured way and assuring you that you guys were “chill like that” and that she could never be really mad at you.
But ever since then, there’d been a tension between the two of you. It spiked in moments like this, where she would start shamelessly flirting with you, trying to get a rise out of you. You didn’t mind much, per se, until you really thought about it and realized there was no meaning behind her flirting. But that was a disappointing reality you were trying to ignore.
“Come back to bed,” Paige called out. This time, you couldn’t tell if she’d meant for it to sound so sexual, but you crawled back into the bed where Paige was bundled up under the sheets.
“You look like a kid,” you giggled, “all wrapped up like a burrito.”
Paige rolled her eyes, a small smile playing at her lips. You felt her grab your waist and pull you closer so now you were both under the mountain of blankets and pillows she had formed. “You’re so warm,” she mumbled sleepily, pressing her forehead against your shoulder.
Both of you knew this was not how normal best friends slept together have a sleepover. But neither of you cared. This was where you felt most comfortable in the world, with Paige’s arm slung across your chest and one of her legs intertwined between yours. Her face was buried in your neck now, and her hair tickled your cheeks.
You could get used to this forever, you thought as you went to sleep.
——————————
Your heart thrummed with anticipation. Today was the day UConn would face off against Louisville in the Final Four of March Madness. You missed Paige; the last time you saw her was when you slept over two days ago. Ever since then, she’d be busy, understandably so. Basketball was her life, and she dedicated all of herself to the sport in times of competition like this.
Paige had gotten you a court-side ticket using one of the family spots allotted to her. Only her dad, step-mom, and Drew could make it to the game; her mom’s side of the family were on a vacation in Spain. On one side of you was Drew, who was happily bouncing in his seat, wearing one of his sister’s jerseys that was adorably big for him, and on the other side was Kayla, who’d gotten this game off but still wanted to watch anyways to support the girls.
As you watched the game, you oscillated between moments of pure joy and happiness when Paige sunk one of her 3s, moments of anger when one of the girls got fouled on without getting any calls for it, and moments of uncertainty when Louisville scored another point and the UConn girls tried to fight off their dejection from showing on their faces.
But you started to stay in the realm of uncertainty once Louisville started gaining, leading by 12 at the end of the third quarter.
“Are they gonna lose, Y/N?” Drew turned to you with a hopeful look in his eyes. You swallowed the knot in your throat. Basketball was everything to this team, and they’d worked so hard to get here. They didn’t deserve to lose, not when they were this close to the national championship.
“I hope not, buddy,” you responded quietly, and ruffled his hair. For the last quarter, Drew gripped your hand, swinging his legs anxiously as the game unfolded.
Despite the team’s best efforts, UConn fell to Louisville, 75-66, and the girls walked off the court, pain fresh in their eyes, their necks steeped with sweat and jerseys sticking damp to their chest. They moved tiredly, some of them being collected for brief post-game interviews while all of the others headed back to the locker rooms.
You made eye contact with Paige, and she pursed her lips, shaking her head sadly before slinging a towel around her neck and following the rest of the girls out.
“She looks so sad,” Drew’s voice was quiet next to you. You could tell he was upset too.
“It’s okay, buddy,” you assured him. “You know what? I bet they’re still selling the pretzels outside. Wanna come with me and see if they have any more churro bites?” Drew’s face lit up at that, and he eagerly shot up from his seat and grabbed your hand.
Paige’s dad, Bob, shot you a grateful smile. “We’ll find Paige, talk to her. You guys join us after, alright?”
You nodded, leading Drew out. To your luck, the pretzel stand had one more scoop of churro bites left that the man gave to you for free since they were closing down.
“Good, Drew?” You reached around him and stole one of the churro bites, popping one in your mouth.
“Y/N!” He groaned, sending me a fake glare. “Now you owe me.”
“I brought you all the way over here for pretzels and I owe you?” You gasped in offense, folding your arms and sending him a fake glare back.
He nodded solemnly. “Yeah. Now you owe me a piggy back ride.”
You laughed. “Okay, hop on,” you agreed, bending down. Drew cheered and jumped on your back, causing you to stumble forward. Both of you giggled as you straightened yourself, and you carried Drew all the way down to the locker rooms.
A security guard stood in the entrance to the hall of the locker rooms, a bored look in his eyes. As you tried to pass, he raised a hand. “Sorry miss,” he stated in a monotonous voice. “Players only.”
“It’s alright, she’s with me,” a voice called out. You looked up to see Paige at the end of the hall, her hair wet and tied up in a loose bun. Even after having just played a tough game, she looked unbelievably gorgeous, her cheeks rosy from the exertment from earlier.
“Paigey!” Drew clambered off my back and barreled into Paige, squeezing his little arms around her waist. Paige, ever the big sister, managed to push aside her feelings from the Final Four loss and look happy for Drew, whom she hadn’t seen in months.
“Hey, bud,” she said quietly, bending down to give him a proper hug. “I missed you.”
They talked in low tones for a moment, Paige smiling fondly at her little brother, before Azzi came along from the locker rooms and stole Drew away to meet the other girls.
Now it was just you and Paige in the hall. She stood up, and you moved to her. Before you knew it, she was in your arms, hugging you so tight you could barely breathe. You wrapped your arms around her, one hand coming up to play with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, an effort to do whatever possible to comfort her.
“Hey,” you turned your head so your mouth was next to her ear. You whispered in her ear gently, “It’s not your fault.”
Paige drew back, her eyes glassy. Breathing shakily, she said, “All those 3s that I missed. Geno was counting on me. He said I had to step up since Azzi was injured, but I didn’t step up. I missed so many.”
I gripped her waist. “Look at me,” I said firmly. When she looked up to made eye contact, I brought my hands up to hold her face so that she couldn’t look away. “What about all the points that you did make? And all the plays you set up for your teammates? I don’t know much basketball, but I watched you out there, and you played with so much fierceness and grit. You played so goddamn good. Don’t be ashamed. At all.”
Paige reluctantly nodded, before pulling me into another hug. We stood there silently, her face buried in my neck and my arms hooked around her waist, until one of the UConn team assistants came bounding the hall.
“Uh,” he scratched his neck nervously as his eyes flitted between the two of us. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for Paige to do press.”
Paige groaned. She stepped back, separating our bodies. “Come over later?” She whispered. “Please?” Her eyes searched mine, all hopeful. She was hurting, and hurting bad.
“Of course, P.” I squeezed her hand before stepping back too, letting the assistant shuffle her away to the press hall.
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The Nanny
Pairing: rafe x nanny reader
Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?
Warnings: 18+, p in v, unprotected sex (Practice safe sex), cream pie, mention of drugs, nipple play (If missing any please let me know)
Wc:4.6K
Chapter 4: Backseat Driving
The rest of the night was spent just chatting to the other, filling each other in on stupid things that happened in your life. You had forced him to help you clean up the kitchen after a while of laying on the couch, cheeks turning beet red once you saw the mess that was left. “Such a messy girl.” he taunts, sucking his teeth with the statement. This only made your cheeks flush redder, but he left the teasing at that. You teased him back for not knowing how to clean, embarrassment leaving you as he huffs out retorts.
Getting to know one another wasn’t as bad as it seemed before, conversation flowing as if you have known each other your whole lives. Well you did, both running into the other at parties or around the island, but this wasn’t simple courtesy. You actually wanted to get to know him, the thought frightening because only yesterday you were upset with him and he was ignoring you. But he keeps reeling you in with every question, “what's your favorite color?”, “Favorite song?”, “Favorite season?”, and so on. Each question met with your replies, “Yellow”, “Edge of Seventeen”, “Fall”, asking the same question till he told you his answers.
“Blue”, “Don’t have one”, “Summer because I get to watch you flaunt in those tiny skirts and bathing suits.” He’s half joking about the last one, his favorite season is definitely summer, getting to look at your little outfits are just a plus. That’s how the night ends, questions being shot at the other, until you both fall asleep.
In the morning you wake up facing the wall, the walls of Rafe’s room alerting you to the fact you are in the same bed that started it all. You just lay there for a moment, thoughts swirling in your brain, only snapping out of it due to the feeling of an arm on your waist. Glancing down you see the Cameron family ring on his pointer finger, you graze it lightly, pulling your hand back when his twitches.
Rafe is half asleep when he feels your fingers on him, enjoying the moment of you thinking he is still asleep. Watching you squirm, he tightens his hold on you, the hand you were playing with lightly making its way up before flattening on your chest. Your back is to his chest, sift breathing making the hairs on your neck tickle you. “Five more minutes.” He mumbles, lips pressing to your hair line. You chuckle, turning to face him.
“We should get up. What if it’s past twelve and we are just here sleeping the day away.” You reason, mostly wanting to escape the feeling in your chest. Rafe looks so pretty, his eyes closed making his eyelashes fan his face, pouty lips slightly plump from sleeping. He peaks an eye open, smirking at you before pecking your lips. “Maybe you're right. Wouldn’t hurt to brush that morning breath away.”
You push his shoulder embarrassed he called you out, a recurring theme it seems. “Asshole.” The words muffled with your hand covering your mouth. “Kidding, just wanted to tease you.” He brushes the hair that fell from your ponytail out of your eyes. “Come on, let's get in the shower. Got a long day ahead of us.” You miss the feeling of his body close to you as he pulls away to get up, the loss of body heat making you feel cold.
“What do you mean?” You ask resting on your elbow, watching as he walks around the room, opening drawers to take clothes out. “I gotta go see Barry, you know the guy over the other day. Just have to talk about some business but I wanted you to come with me. Maybe we could go do something after.” He’s saying it like it’s so easy, like wanting to be around you was natural for him.
“You want to hangout with me?” Your voice is low, maybe it was the shock of him suggesting a hangout without sex or it was because you're nervous. What if being with each other besides sex is awful? You could probably hate who he is as a person or worse he can realize you’re boring just to run off with the next girl. “What to good to hangout with me when I’m not fucking you?” He’s looking at you now, eyes shining as he teases you.
“Well If the shoe fits.” You can hear him scoff, your eyes trained at the bedsheets you pick at, hiding your smile from him. “Stop being a brat and get in the shower.” “alright, alright I’m going.”
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The gravel crackles under the truck tires as Rafe pulls down the driveway to get to Barry’s house. It’s a little rundown house, a trailer sitting off to the back by the firepit. His house isn’t too far from your childhood home, yet it feels like it’s in a different part of the island. You’ve heard stories about Barry, none of them good, the house seems to reflect its owner. Another hurricane and you swear it will blow away never to be seen again.
“You okay?” Rafe’s voice draws you out of your thoughts. “Yeah of course I am.” You look out the window as the truck comes to a stop. Truth be told you aren’t okay. Drugs have never been a good thing in your books, you’ve seen how it’s destroyed the lives of family members. How it slowly tears away at Rafe, destroying the relationships around him. You don’t like it but you don’t like the thought of him alone here. From what you’ve witnessed Rafe doesn’t know when to quit, taking one bump of coke after the other, wasting the day away so high that he can’t recognize the people around him. It’s always scared you, not wanting him to end like the horror stories told, but what else is there to do?
Rafe get’s out, going over to your side to let you out, wrapping his arm on your shoulder once you're out. “Country club!” The voice inside the house calls out, screen door opening displaying the man it belongs to. “Ooooo, you brought me a little treat. You really shouldn’t have.” Rafe’s arm tightens around you, shielding your body from Barry’s wandering eyes. In hindsight, wearing the yellow summer dress that comes down to midthigh was not the best decision. You feel exposed.
“Watch it.” Rafe bits out. “She’s off limits, understand?” Barry just scoffs walking back into the house. “White boy comes into my home and tells me what to do. Get your ass inside before I change my mind.” You are left outside, blue eyes blocking your view as Rafe gets in front of you. “You don’t have to go in. You can stay in the car if you aren’t comfortable, I won’t take it personally.” It’s sweet that he cares, maybe it’s because you are sleeping together, but it’s still sweet.
You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers and walking to the door. “It’s okay. I want to be here.” He can’t help but smile, yanking you for a kiss. “What was that for?” Your smile is so bright, the sun illuminating the freckles in your eyes. “Nothing.” He shakes his head, pulling the two of you to get inside. If the outside was run down, the inside is just as bad. There’s a mess everywhere you look, bags of various drug liter the table in the living room, bongs on almost every surface in the room
“Want some?” The silence made you aware of the eyes on you. “Me?” you question pointing to yourself. “Yeah you. It’s a good thing she’s pretty.” Barry chuckles, plopping himself on the couch, hoping to get a glance of what’s under that dress. “My eyes are up here asshole.” You shift, pulling the skirt down to cover up, only to expose more cleavage. Sitting on the opposite couch with Rafe, you glare at the man across from you. “And she’s feisty. I like her. Do you want anything?”
“No. I’ve never done drugs and I sure as hell am not doing them with you.” You retort, their eyes staring at you like you have two heads. Fuck! Anxiety fills you, thinking you fucked up by offending him. “You’ve never done drugs?” Rafe asks, eyes scanning your face waiting for it to show your joking. “Nope. Never done them.” You shrug. It’s not like the opportunity hasn’t occurred. Mostly every party in Obx has some sort of drug, in highschool your boyfriend even smoked weed, it just never was your thing. But mainly you never felt comfortable enough with a person to let you inhibition lower, too scared of what you will say or do.
“Well I’ll be damned. Got yourself a good girl huh, country club?” Rafe tenses up besides you, ready to push himself up off this couch and bash his face in. The nickname he gave you now leaving a bad taste in his mouth, hating the fact that someone else called you it. You hand finds his thigh, halting his actions, he takes a deep breath. “Can we get this over with? Got shit to do.” Rafe tried real hard to keep his tone cool, the words still coming out bitter. “Yeah I bet you do.” Barry’s looking at you again, practically undressing you with his eyes. Rafe’s eyes narrow, his fist balling up so close to teaching Barry not even address your existence.
“Alright, alright let’s go. Why don’t you just wait here? Wouldn’t want to taint you.” He gets up, walking off to the back of the house, a door closing separating you and Rafe from him. “Why don’t you go to the truck? I can meet you there once I'm done.” Rafes already up before finishing his sentence about to walk off, you stopping him so he can’t get too far. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” “Promise.”
With that you leave, standing outside to enjoy the weather, it was perfect. A gnawing feeling is somewhere deep down, worried of what could be happening in there. Was he getting high? No, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t put you in that danger. He was driving for god sakes, he wouldn't, right? The voices in your head are going a thousand miles per hour, throwing scenario after scenario.
You don’t know how long you were out there, it wasn’t a long time but your mind made it feel like hours. “You alright?” Rafe’s voice is right behind you, startling you in the process. “Oh god don’t do that.” You shriek, your right hand swatting him as your left clutches your chest. “Did you get everything?” He opens the door for you, the action making you blush, he smirks when he notices.
“Yeah, just some coke and weed to sell tomorrow night.” He gets in throwing the bags of drugs in the glove compartment. You can smell his cologne, it’s the one you got him for his birthday. “I like your cologne.” The words escape before you can stop them, shutting your eyes waiting for the teasing that's about to happen. “Thanks. Some pretty girl gave it to me, good to know it works.” He’s starting the truck and out the driveway as you think of what he just said.
There’s him calling you pretty again so effortlessly like he didn’t even need to think. “Works?” You question. “Been wearing it since I got it. Glad you finally noticed.” His eyes darted to you before going back to the road. You don’t know what to say, he’s been wearing it for months. When you first gave it to him you were nervous, you never had to give a present to someone who practically has everything.
It was one of the only things you could afford at the time, knowing he wears it seems weird to you. Why would he wear it just so you could notice? He has to be teasing you, yeah that’s it. There’s no way that everyday for almost a year he’s worn it. His birthday is in September and it's already June. He couldn’t have possibly worn it this whole time.
Rafe turns on the radio before your thoughts make you crazy, the song silencing them. The older song fills the car, filling the gaps in conversation. You roll the window down, sticking your arm out the window to feel the wind as you pass the trees lining the road. Whatever is happening between you is confusing. There are moments when you feel like there is something more, that there's this thin layer separating you from falling. Every stolen kiss, touch, words, chipping away from the layer ready to pull you under. Rafe keeps glancing at you, wanting to say something but nothing comes to mind
“Try to stop my hands from shakin’. ‘Cause somethin’ in my mind’s not making sense.”
Rafe listens to the song, lyrics infiltrating his mind.
“It’s been awhile since we were all alone. I can’t hide the way I’m feelin’. As you’re leaving, please, would you close the door? And don’t forget what I told ya.”
He’s staring now, barely looking at the road, just enough to make sure he doesn’t crash the truck. You are humming along to the song, lost in your own thoughts, trying to enjoy this moment worried it would be ripped away. He can’t stop himself from placing his hand on your thigh, right below the hem of the sundress. His fingers digging into your skin to give you a little squeeze, getting you to look at him.
“Just ‘cause you’re right, that doesn't mean I’m wrong. Another shoulder to cry upon.”
Rafe can’t take it anymore, the sun lighting your hair is giving you a halo. It makes you look like an angel. You were an angel, his angel. He’s not in control anymore, his emotions are running high and he doesn’t know how to handle it. This whole thing is new to him. Rafe has never had someone in his life to feel this strongly about. His grip on the steering wheel tightens as he goes to pull over to the side of the road. “Rafe, what are you doing?” A laugh follows your question. “You just look so fucking beautiful right now. I need to kiss you.”
“I just wanna use your love tonight, yeah. I don’t wanna lose your love tonight. Yeah, I just wanna use your love tonight.”
Putting the car in park, his seatbelt flies off of him as he leans over the center console. The radio fading into the background. His left hand grabs your face to pull you into a kiss, his right hand unbuckling you from your seat. You didn’t even need to think about it, you kissed him back deeper, throwing your arms around his neck. The two of you sit there for a few minutes, just kissing each other breaking apart only to get a quick breath of air before diving back in. Neither of you really want to stop, too caught up in the feeling of each other. Ever since you both opened up to each other, even just a smidge, it brought you closer together. Tying a piece of you to the other. Pulling away you open your eyes to notice he still had his closed and a goofy lopsided smile. It was small but you still saw it. “Let’s get in the backseat.”
“Oh yeah? What’re you going to do?” Rafe questions, his right eyebrow raising. “Hurry up before I change my mind.” You challenge. “Yes ma’am.” He retorts, a quick kiss being shared before you climb into the backseat. Rafe gets out of the car, opening the backdoor to join you. “Really out in the open? Should have known you liked having people watch you considering you like watching.” As he tries to get settled in the back, the memory of what started this floods you. Not trying to overthink it, you throw your leg over his lap, your hands resting on the backseats. “Maybe I just don’t mind it when it’s you I’m doing with.” You shrug it off by kissing him.
It took his brain a minute to catch up before he deepened the kiss, focusing on the little confession for a second too long. Rafe’s hands are rubbing up your thigh, pinching the skin just to smooth it over once again. His right hand creeps higher up your thigh as you grind down on him, going underneath the dress and stopping. Rafe breaks the kiss pulling his head back, his fingers twitching. “Are you not wearing any underwear?” You blush at being called out, but you're too turned on to even feel embarrassed so you grind down harder.
“Thought they would just get in the way.” You go to lean in again but his other hand stops you. “You’re telling me that you were sitting at Barry’s with no panties on? God what did I do to deserve such a dirty girl.” This time it’s him going in for a kiss, cupping your neck and hip as your hips pick up their movement. You can feel him through his jeans, his hard dick rubbing against your clit perfectly, but you felt empty. You wanted to feel him stretch you to your limits again, addicted to the pain of having him open you up.
Your hands skim down his chest, landing on his toned stomach as you tease the button of his jeans. “How much do you want me?” You ask, your lips leaving a trail of kisses from his mouth to his neck, sucking on it till you leave a little bruise and lick it. “So fucking much Sunny. You have no idea.” He moans out, the hand under your dress finds your clit, rubbing small tight circles. It’s not long before you are ripping his jeans off him, he lifts his hips allowing you to pull them down, the boxers he wears go along with them.
“Why don’t you be a good girl and ride me. Huh baby? Show me who makes you feel good.” Oh god, if he kept talking like that you could probably cum just from his voice. The raspy low voice was like music to your ears, you could listen to it for hours on end. Your soft hand wraps around him, giving a little tug, lifting you up and lining him up to your entrance. Rafe closes his eyes ready to feel your tight walls squeeze him to an inch of death but nothing happens.
He peeps an eye to look at you and you're just there looking down at him with a light smile. “Come o-oh fuck.” His sentence interrupted by you sinking down on him, you moan at the stretch. When you bottom out he grips your hips keeping you in place, giving you time to adjust to his size. Considering he did prep you with his fingers, he doesn’t want to hurt you. Your soft whimpers fill the car as you move slightly, the motion causing him to brush against your g-spot and you clit against the patch of his hair.
“You feel so good baby. So fucking big.” You whine into his ear, burying your head in his neck, the feeling of him too much. The words rush straight to his dick making it twitch, his hips rutting,arms going around your body to hold you. You moan at the feeling, your hips start to move on their own accord, grinding until you gain the confidence to raise your hips.
You lean back making eye contact as you raise your hips before slamming them back down on him. His eyes roll to the back of his head, his mouth dropping into an “O” shape. You keep bouncing, your nails scratching his chest to ground you to something. In this position he feels deeper, it’s a little bit painful but it felt like heaven. Rafe’s hands dig into your hips helping to lift you up and bring you down.
The two of you stay like that, you bouncing on him, his dick rubbing your g-spot in the greatest way. One of the hands on your hips slowly travels to your clit adding to the stimulation you were already feeling. “Oh fuck baby. So perfect, my perfect little girl.” You just moan at him, leaning back between the front seats. Your hands find the middle counsel to keep you upright, giving you extra leverage to keep bouncing.
His other hand glides up your stomach, giving your left tit a squeeze before pinching your nipple. “That feel good?” He comments after hearing your moan increase in pitch. “Yes.” you breath out, you're so close to cumming, tingles spreading from you abdomen throughout your body. Rafe leans closer to you, his mouth wrapping around the nipple he isn’t playing with. The suction of his mouth felt amazing, his teeth grazing your pebbled nipple. The fluttering of your walls alert Rafe that you are about to cum.
“Cum for me Sunny.” Just like that you were cumming, your hand grasping his shoulder due to the intensity. Your nails leave red marks all over his shoulder and collar as you claw at him, getting over stimulated as he keeps you bouncing. He wraps an arm around you to stabilize you out, the orgasim taking the energy out of you. Your limb in his arms, barely noticing him moving you both back so he’s resting on the seat and you're on his chest.
“It’s okay baby, I got you.” Rafe whispers in your ear. He’s thrusting up into you now, chasing his own pleasure. “Harder.” You moan out wanting him to ruin you. He picks up his pace, pulling you down as he thrusts up, filling you up deliciously. You can feel him throbbing, his hips starting to lose their rhythm. You lift your arm resting it on the seat behind his head, your hand scratching the back of his head.
His hand finds you clit again, wanting to feel you cum around his dick one more time. “You got one more in you right? I know you can give me one more.” You nod, your senses coming back to you, your hips meeting his to give him what he wants. It wasn’t long before you were cumming again, shaking in his arms feeling his cum fill you up as your orgasim triggers his. You just rock back and forth trying to get the feeling to last longer. After a few rocks, Rafe stopped you, hissing at the stimulation.
Pulling you off of him, he places you in the seat next to him to get some extra napkins to clean you up. “Why don’t we go get some food and then go home.” He suggested throwing the napkins on the floor of the truck. Home. Hearing him call Tannyhill home as if you belong there, not just as a nanny, but actually belong there makes you happy. It’s probably foolish to get happy or excited knowing this will fade soon. But you can’t help but want that.
You want Tanny to be your home, the thought scares you but it’s the truth. Being there has made you the happiest you’ve been in a really long time. “Yeah. Think we can get burgers? Been craving them for the last week.” He fixes your dress pulling you both out the car and into the front. “We can get whatever you want.”
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“Hey you go in and get our order. I need to run to the store real quick.” Rafe is parked outside the restaurant. You had placed the order on the way over but there was still at least ten minutes before it would be ready. “Yeah I can. Grab me some chocolate.” You tell him as you get out. Walking into the restaurant you can tell how busy they are, the tables are full and there's a line of people waiting for a table. “How can I help you?” The hostess asked. “I have an order.” You tell her your name, waiting to the side as she said it would still be a while.
You pull out your phone and answer some texts from your friends. You notice the message chain with your mom. You wanted to reach out to them, say you are sorry and give them the money, but rafe words creep into your brain. You are finally living your life the way that you want to live it, not how they want you to live. Finally breaking the tension with Rafe seemed to be a blessing in disguise.
The hostess calling your name snaps you out of the thought of your parents. You grab the order walking out the building ready to call Rafe when you see the truck pulling up. The window is rolled down and you can see him leaning on the counsel to look at you standing there. “Got an uber for Sunny, have you seen her? She’s pretty short, beautiful, sassy beyond belief.” You roll our eyes while opening the door and getting in.
You place the food down between your feet and buckle up. “Haha, so funny. Everyone looks short when they are standing next to you, giraffe.” The name made him chuckle, his hand pushing your hair back and playing with the strands. “As long as you like giraffe’s I’m okay with being yours.” You stare at him, bewildered at what he just said.
He’s okay with being yours? After the past few days your feelings have been confusing. You have always found him attractive but didn’t want to risk your job or Wheezie. It’s been harder to not let those feelings come out when you are around him. You grab his hand and bring it to your lips, giving it a light kiss. You intertwine your hands and bring them to your lap, brushing your thumb along his hands. “I love them.” You smile.
The words have a deeper meaning than what you both want to admit. Your smiling contagious as one starts to form on his face. “Good.” His eyes are intense, willing you to confess something more, just a little more to give him the courage to do the same. No words are said, Rafe diverts his eyes from you, swallowing the lump in his throat. The words that threatened to spill, dying and being locked away once again.
He doesn’t know when the crushing weight in his chest began to form. The uncomfortable feeling in his throat caused him to clear it. Rafe shouldn’t think too much about it, he knows this is just for fun. But when he looks at you he knows that he’s lying to himself, he doesn’t even want to think about stopping what you have. It doesn’t matter what he wants, he will never be good enough for you, he’ll just have to settle for what you will give him. “Let’s get home. We can eat and watch that movie you were talking about the other week.”
He remembered the movie, you thought. He also has been wearing the birthday cologne you got him. He couldn’t be more perfect, you wish these were different circumstances. That you weren’t just some girl that worked for his family and he was just the son of your boss. You wish that at this moment you were more, someone who was worth more, someone who could actually be his. Maybe for just a moment you can actually believe that you deserve him. “Yeah that sounds good. Let’s go home.”
#rafe x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#rafe obx#outer banks smut#drew starkey smut#rafe cameron fanfiction
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It was so near the time of starting that I had no time to ask any one else, for it was all very mysterious and not by any means comforting.
[...]
Whether it is the old lady's fear, or the many ghostly traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not know, but I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual. If this book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye. Here comes the coach!
Jonathan "understating my distress" Harker is back at it again!
He can't turn back. This is his first big job and it's a very big and important one. He doesn't even have a good reason to do as the landlady suggests and delay a day or two, since his host has paid for his spot on the coach and will be sending someone to meet him on the other end. Not to mention, no one is giving him any specifics whatsoever, so all he can really say to justify even wanting to stay back would be 'the locals were acting really scared'. It would just read as getting caught up in silly superstition, and again this is his first task after his promotion, this is stepping into the shoes of his boss, this is his livelihood. There's too many reasons to go.
But he starts out the entry saying "hm, this is a bit creepy" and ends by saying (in a roundabout way) "I feel a bit unsettled... if I die and this diary is all that's left of me, Mina this is a goodbye." Like!!! Imagine how freaked out he actually is here!
This is only the second entry. He isn't at the castle yet. The only contact he has had with Dracula himself is that little note from yesterday. And already Jonathan closes his entry with a farewell to Mina. The other times he does this are when he truly expects that he will probably die before getting to write again. (And yeah, he says "before I [reach Mina]" but I tend to think that's him trying to talk down his own reaction because again he doesn't know any reason to be this worried. Why else would his diary return before him, and with only two entries in it?)
He sounds amusingly mild. But "not comforting" and "not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual" apparently translate to "just in case I'm about to die, Mina, I love you." Even if he reasons to himself that he's just being superstitious as well, that he's being very illogical and it's just nerves, or maybe the idolatrous crucifix, that he's probably just unsettled after all the travel and the 'queer dreams' of the other night (definitely nightmares)... in this moment he's really distressed. His alarm bells are definitely ringing.
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Who wants some sleepy domestic Emhyr/Geralt?
Got a kind of bewildering ask yesterday that I won't bother answering directly as it didn't seem particularly relevant to me, but it did remind me how much I enjoyed writing Witcher fic, and that I still have some bits of Emhyr/Geralt(/Eskel) fic I was working on that I've never shared, and I am in a sharing mood today!
This is from what would have been Urbe Aureā #5, in which Emhyr begins his courtship of Eskel by offering him any witcher's favorite thing: a job in Toussaint. Geralt, naturally, goes along with him, and then they come home to the palace in Nilfgaard, mostly unscathed...
Geralt knew just what to do this time, returning to Nilfgaard in the middle of the night. He parted from Eskel with a mumbled agreement to meet again in the morning, shed his weapons and everything else he could without scandalizing any servants he met, and went directly to Emhyr's rooms.
He reached up to run a hand over the stubble that was all the hair left on the lower part of his head now. It was two days' growth, because that was how long it had taken him, Eskel, and occasionally Lambert, to deal with every other little problem someone had brought to their attention after the wraiths were dealt with.
He hadn't been dawdling this time--not like the days he'd spent in Tretogor chasing down stray bandits and necrophages. He just... couldn't go off and leave the place knowing there was a problem with giant centipedes popping out of somebody's vineyard, and a nasty ghost haunting somebody else's well--and then he'd had to make a few patrols to check for signs of any vampires who'd started making nuisances of themselves since he left. Those always turned up again when there had been a lot of them in one place, like seeds germinated by a forest fire.
But now, at last, he was done and back again. He and Eskel had availed themselves of the baths B.-B. had had waiting for them after they got back from sorting out those fleders, and then they'd agreed with barely a word to head back through the portal. They'd left Lambert asleep under his workbench, knowing well that he'd be happier to bitch about them leaving without a goodbye than to actually suffer through any parting scene.
And, after all, he knew exactly where to find them if he wanted them.
Geralt let himself into Emhyr's rooms and hesitated, listening out for a moment, but Emhyr didn't rush out to meet him as he had that time before. Maybe he'd slept a little easier, knowing Geralt had left on Emhyr's own errand, and with backup to boot. Maybe he just didn't expect Geralt to have returned after only a few days.
Either way, there was no point lingering in the sitting room. Geralt let himself into the bedchamber, and his heart did something painful and fond at the sight of Emhyr sleeping. He tried to ignore it, willed it away, even as he was walking over. He was at the side of the bed when he remembered: he loved Emhyr, and he knew that, and Eskel knew that, and Emhyr probably knew that, and as yet that hadn't brought about any more than the usual amount of destruction.
He could just... feel it. He could look at Emhyr sleeping, with his head on one pillow and another tucked under his arm like he'd lost the knack of sleeping without another body to lean against, and feel like he belonged there. In Emhyr's bed, in his arms, in his life, because that was a role he could fill, a job he could do. He could be the Emperor's Witcher and like it.
Emhyr didn't move--didn't give himself away, if the lurker in his bedchamber had been anyone less astute--but Geralt knew the moment he woke.
"Not an assassin," Geralt said softly. "Just--"
Emhyr pushed himself up to sit, a wash of delight turning his craggy features almost young, in the little light that reached Geralt's eyes. Mindful that Emhyr could see even less than he could in this dark, he stepped forward, holding his hands out, saving Emhyr the trouble of disentangling himself from the bedcovers.
"My dear witcher," Emhyr murmured, catching his hands and tugging him closer still, then catching his mouth in a kiss. "Where is your partner?"
Geralt laughed a little against Emhyr's mouth. "Not so quickly won over as that, dear majesty. But he did come back with me, safe and sound. He's in his own room, probably already asleep."
"Excellent," Emhyr said, and he genuinely did sound pleased. And he'd asked about Eskel first thing, when he might have ignored the whole matter of him until morning, and that, too, made Geralt's heart squeeze.
"And yourself?" Emhyr went on, his hands releasing Geralt's and sliding up his arms. "You smell clean enough, but you know I am not as keen as one of you. Any injuries? Any trouble?"
"Not as such," Geralt said, climbing onto the edge of the bed so Emhyr could reach more of him, and taking Emhyr's hand to guide it up to the base of his skull. "Lost some hair."
"A pity," Emhyr murmured, running warm fingers over the shorn part of Geralt's scalp before he settled his hand on the nape of Geralt's neck and tugged him into a deeper kiss.
Geralt leaned into Emhyr's firm grip, his whole body easing, muscles relaxing that had been faintly tensed for days on end. That human-strong hold on him and Emhyr's mint-clean mouth coaxing his open meant that he was home safe, done with the job, and it was finally time to let his guard down. He let himself sway into Emhyr, trusting his weight to the solid warmth of Emhyr's body.
Emhyr let out a little grunt, though his body betrayed no great evidence of straining under the pressure. He closed his other arm around Geralt and eased them both down, not bothering to sort out the covers or get Geralt naked--as though all that mattered was both of them here, at their ease. As though he needed nothing more than that.
Geralt sighed, nuzzling at Emhyr's chest, and went out like a blown candle.
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Boarding School
Teacher! Anakin x fem! reader
౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆
warnings: sexual content, implied smut, age gap, fingering, sex, teacher-student relationship
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
this fanfic is inspired by Lana Del Rey’s unreleased song “Boarding School”
please excuse any typos you might see :,)
I really hope that y’all will enjoy this <3
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
You recently found out that you were going to a new boarding school.
Your parents sent you off to a new one since in your previous school, you had problems with some girls. You didn’t really wanna to go to a new school since you have kind of settled in in your old one, but you didn’t have a choice.
It was your first day in the new boarding school. An only-girls school. The moment you stepped in some teachers showed you your new room and you had to share it with another girl. It was pink and baby blue. Your bed had some bows around it and overall it was a really pretty room. After settling in you decided to go check out the rest of the school. Since it was the first day and there were no lessons today.
You were wearing your school uniform, a white shirt, a red tie, a pair of white thigh socks, black shoes and your red pleaded skirt. You look so pretty. You start walking around the corridors of the school, checking out the new classrooms and everything. You were not watching where you were going at some point when all of a sudden you accidentally fell onto someone. You looked up to the person. It was a teacher. You embarrassedly looked up to him and started apologising.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir, I was not watching where I
was going..!”
You really felt embarrassed after this…
He warmly smiled and looked down to you.
“Oh, don’t even worry about it, it’s fine!”
You were so embarrassed and looked down,
then he said
“Are you a new student? It’s the first day of school today and I haven’t seen you before here.”
You looked up to him and smiled
“Yes! I am a new student! I just came this morning. My name is y/n..”
“What a nice name…”
he replied.
“Have they assigned you with a class? I think it’s on the papers that they gave you when you arrived here this morning.”
Your eyes widen, realising that you do not know in which class you actually are.
“Oh, I forgot to actually check it… silly me..”
You say and laugh awkwardly.
“Well, I’d suggest that you actually go check it out because the lessons start tomorrow and I don’t think that you would like to lose one of your classes right?”
He says and winks at you.
You instantly blush..
He’s a teacher, and he’s already making you feel so…so.. hot..? You couldn’t explain it, but you were feeling things.
You give him a smile and walk back to your room.
The next day you wake up and check out in which class you are. The papers say C1.
You get dressed, eat breakfast and fix your schoolbag. Then you head out to your lesson.
You walk in the class and sit in the front seat. After a while you hear the door of the classroom open and your new teacher walks in. It’s the same teachers from the corridors yesterday. The moment this happens is when you realise that he never actually told you his name.
Then, he sits in front of everyone in the class and says
“Good morning everyone, I’ll be your new philosophy teacher for the year.. I am Anakin Skywalker, but you can call me Mr Skywalker. I also do tutoring lessons in case everyone has problems with philosophy, so could you always can count on me.”
he says and smiles. I look up to him and smile too. He notices me and winks playfully. I feel a wave of amusement and embarrassment wash over me. He’s my teacher and feel like that about him, but he’s already so nice to me and sweet, you said to yourself.
Days pass pretty fast. You’ve started your school year in a really good mood. You love your new philosophy teacher more than any other teachers. Whenever you see him, you talk to him and you guys have really good conversations. One day decide to finally take the step and ask him if he can tutor you.
After class, you walked up to him.
“Excuse me Mr Skywalker….from what I remember on our first lesson you said to us and we can ask you for help with tutoring.. I’ve been wanting to ask you for awhile about it, but I was just too shy I guess..”
You say, and laugh anxiously.
He gave you a warm smile and replied
“Of course…plus you are the only student who actually asked for me to tutor them, so whenever you feel like it let me know.We can arrange the days and all.. oh and I have some free time right now. We could sit here, on this class, if you would like me to help you out with anything hmm?”
you smiled in excitement.
“Oh yes absolutely! I do have some free time right now… and I would love it if you could help me right now..”
You said and giggled.
You guys start studying together. He’s a really good tutor. Without realising it, hours have passed..
Anakin takes off his glasses and smiles, while looking at you.
“I don’t get why you want me to tutor you… you are so good..”
He smiled once again.
You put a strand of your hair behind your ear and reply to him.
“Honestly…sir… I don’t really feel like it.. I mean I do try my best, but it feels like I need more help.. but I really appreciate the way you speak to me and the way you help me with anything… thank you sir”
He’s sitting right next to you with his hand on the desk while looking at you.. you guys are so close.. your lips are so close to each other..
just as you guys are so close to kissing he moves a bit away..
“The time has passed fast huh..? Perhaps you better if you went back to your dorm doll.. it’s getting late..”
you smile, awkwardly and reply
“Oh yes sir, you’re absolutely right… I will head back to my dorm.. and thank you… for today.. I’d like to do that more often..”
You leave the classroom.
After an while you’re back in your dorm.
You sit by the window and check out the view outside of the building. As you check out the trees, you watch your teacher under a tree, smoking a cigarette. You keep looking at him. And that is the moment you realise that you actually feel much more things about your teacher… you start noticing how hot he is when he smoking… the way he pushes his hair back, out of his face… the way he fixes his glasses.. it’s all so..attractive…
You didn’t care that you felt like that in the first place, you just wanted him.. so bad..
Days pass once again. He keeps on tutoring you. You guys get much closer than expected.
You are talking about more personal matters which leads both of you into realising that you are actually much similar than you thought..
The following week, you two decided to have a lesson much later that day. When nobody was walking around the classrooms and you had more privacy.
After an hour into the lesson, you guys are so close again…this time you felt like you needed to do that… you couldn’t resist, and as your lips were so close…You just leaned closer and kissed him..
He did not break the kiss. Instead, he put his hands on your waist as you were sitting in the chair and kissed you more. Then he set you on the desk and kept kissing you as his hands traveled around your body.
“I’ve been wanting this for so long doll… I’ve been wanting you for so long…”
He exclaims.
You couldn’t believe it.
You wanted him in the exact same way.
You stop the kiss and look up to him once again
“I’ve been wanting that too.. I want you here..right now, take me here..!”
You exclaimed. He smirked and laughed quietly.
Adrenaline washed over you.
He lifted your skirt as you were laying on the desk. Then he moved your panties to the side.
“And those pretty pink panties that you are wearing… such a shame that they are gonna be ruined by me baby..”
he starts fingering you
You keep moaning with your hand covering your mouth. Trying to be as quiet as possible..
After a while of prepping you.. he enters you.
He moves slowly.
“Baby? I’m gonna try to be gentle, okay? Tell me if anything hurts, hmm?”
you shake your head and smile warmly.
You spent the whole night getting pounded on a desk by your philosophy teacher.
After you guys finished, Anakin kissed your cheek and smiled
“You did so good for me doll..”
Turns out that the boarding school will be fun <3
#anakin skywalker#anakin x reader#clay beresford#coquette#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#sam monroe#star wars#star wars anakin#lana del rey#anakin x you#anakin imagine#anakin smut#sw anakin#anakin fanfiction#Spotify
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Some of yall need to be touched like badly. When I say badly i mean EXPEDITIOUSLY because there’s no reason that the tag needs to be flooded with this much smut. Like I genuinely want to know do yall not like nor have anything else going on besides smut/sex? I don’t shame people yk like what you wanna like write what you wanna write but like it’s so bad to where you scroll and it is nothing but straight up porn and you can’t even find a fic with fluff, angst, or even sumn just sad because nobody reads nor boosts those posts. Like me and home girl (ellie) was literally bed rotting tg because they was depressed over Joel’s death so wtf happened. it’s starting to feel like these other genres are becoming a lost art form. Like i remember just back in the day (WHICH WAS A YEAR AGO) you would go under the tag and you could expect stories, multiple plot lines, im talking betrayal, enemies to lovers, pining after one or eachother trope, fucking depression, and tension, even the throuples were good and omg dont get me started on the tlou x re crossovers. So go ahead and get that computer, pop open that twitta, and get all your juices and your needs out of your system cause the tag needed a cleanup by YESTERDAY.
#i stand on wtf i said idc#go get touched#then touch some grass#yall need help like today#i miss the old writers#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams imagine#ellie the last of us#arcane vi x reader#vi x reader#the last of us x reader#vi x you#arcane#the last of us
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white marble
❛ !¡ pairing; sunday x gender neutral!reader.
❛ !¡ summary; the golden city, struck at the time before midnight to never see tomorrow or remember yesterday, its magical melancholy accompanying everyone’s dreams.
❛ !¡ warnings; none.
❛ !¡ a/n; i love him sm you don’t know how much, bro is just so cute and i love how much of a yapper he is.
the sky remained the same, forever set in a midnight fever and embraced by the shine of countless stars. they were all false, and shone no real light that could exhaust the wish of the most unfortunate ones, but by gazing at them, one could feel the gaze of the gods above staring back at them. and this alone was enough to forget that it was only a mere illusion.
in the real world, it was probably already 10 pm or something along those lines. no one really knew, even if there were real watches and clocks that told the time a little bit all around town so no one could lose track of the hours, and the minutes and the seconds.
golden eyes stared up at one of those clocks. a bland dark disk hanging on one of the ivory walls of the bathroom — which looked more like an interior pool. numbers from one to twelve were written in roman, in a soft golden hue which matched the color of the two hands of the clock. a third one, very much smaller and less important than the bigger ones as it only displayed the seconds and was too quick to be precise enough, was making a slight ticking sound. it did not feel bothering, it was only faint and absolute silence would have bothered him greatly.
his gaze settled back on the book in his left hand. a history book that talked about another formality in the lands of penacony. he knew those stories by heart by now, but there were always secret details that escaped his grasp. and a mind as avid to knowledge as his was ran towards the promise of being the true master of those lands thanks to the importance those details might hold. his eyes stealthily returned to the right, before going back to the left.
three, two, one.
the almost perfect silence finally stopped when a sway of the bathtub’s water echoed in the room. followed by a small yawn. the weight on his shoulder shifted slightly. his hand on the skin of their lower back moved to their waist, bringing them closer before letting them settle back down against his body. at first, he felt quite compelled with the idea of his lover falling asleep in the bathtub, but now he looked forward to such a pretty sight which could only belong to him.
he put down the book he was holding before. using a handmade bookmark made by them to see the page he stopped at and distancing it from the water. he wouldn’t want to tarnish a book they had so much difficulty getting for him. he would probably never forgive himself if this ended up happening.
his hand then reached for a small glass. a clear water tinted with some blue undertones was being contained in this small cup. even such a trivial object held some importance to him, after all it was a special set that was offered to them by his dearest sister in congratulations for the newly fiancés. he felt like he was on cloud nine upon his sister’s agreement and original acceptance of his lover. a worry that had always clouded his mind before their first meeting, taking into account he started this relationship while the singer was away for a bit.
their eyes now finally lazily opening. and he gave them the time to rub their eyes before proposing the drink. they looked at the beverage. he brought it closer and let them smell the faint fragrance coming from the glass. now, there was that small smile he cherished from the bottom of his little heart.
“blueberry ?” their h hoarse voice, caused by the nap, lurked at him, their eyes peering up from behind their eyelashes. his own eyes softened as he viewed them so cozy and cuddled against him like he was a teddy bear that has been handled to them — he wouldn’t mind being seen as such now that he gives more time to this idea. but he decided to leave that for another moment, and nodded gently.
they did not move an inch as he placed the cold crystal against their dry lips. as they drank slowly, and he made sure not to pour too much and sometimes put the glass away so they wouldn’t choke on the flavored water, he could not stop himself from placing a small kiss on their forehead. feeling some hair under his lips, and smiling as they hummed below him by the affection that seemed all too natural for him. loving them seemed to be as easy as breathing from his lungs.
once they were done, he took them in both of his arms. cuddling them close to his chest and making sure he could feel every inch of their body. a body he knew by heart, and if he ever had to forget everything he ever knew and keep one thing remaining in his mind, it would be the sweet feeling of their shared embrace. their nails tracing lines against his arms and leaving tingles all over his body. it felt nice to be loved by someone as gentle as them.
“all nice ?” surprised danced across his face when they shook their head, but his heartbeat did not flare up yet as that small smile remained on those features he could draw by heart.
“my lips are all dry…” now, it was his turn to have a smile plastered on his face. from his view above, their lips looked perfectly fine. even more when their tongue snuck out briefly to let some saliva help with rejuvenating their lips. he leaned down and placed a small kiss on their lips. their hands came to rest on his cheek, bringing him down for another small kiss after he had just pulled away.
“better ?” he inquired silently. “mhm.” was the only answer he needed. he placed a cheek upon their head, continuing to cuddle them. might as well remain here a bit more before going to bed, they have the whole night ahead for themselves after all. for once, penacony can and will wait. he has found what is more important than this dreamscape now.
TAGGING:: @aventxsha; @dxmoness; @sweetlyvibe; @quatrdeal
#renee.writes#x gender neutral reader#x gn reader#x gn y/n#x reader#hsr sunday x reader#hsr x y/n#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr x you#hsr sunday#hsr x reader#hsr#honkai star rail sunday#honkai star rail x gender neutral reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#sunday#sunday x reader#sunday x you#sunday x y/n
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Havana | Charles Leclerc & Carlos Sainz x Reader
Genre | Angst, Hurt, Smut.
Word count | 5.0K
Warnings | Sexual content, alcohol consumption, cheating, some gaslighting, heartbreak!!
Summary | Reader and Charles, who've been dating for a few years, go on a trip to Cuba between two races. A few days before leaving, they learn that Carlos and Rebecca will be staying at the same resort. Good news, right? Well, if you forget Carlos and reader's years-long mutual attraction. Inspired by the « She chose me/Did she? » trend on TikTok… with a twist.
Author's note | Lord... This was so filthy I'm sorry. This piece is the result of this poll! Wrote half of this listening to These Walls by Dua Lipa, the other with Never Be The Same by Camila Cabello. Just so you get the mood. Not proofread, sorry!
She had been waiting for these holidays for months.
Since the beginning of the season, she hadn't been able to travel with Charles to any race, having no available days off. She was jealous of the others wags. The influencers. The ones who could rearrange their schedules in the blink of an eye to follow their boyfriends to the other side of the world without thinking about the consequences. But she'd foolishly chosen to pursue studies, foolishly found a job in marketing, foolishly trapped herself without even realizing it. She loved her job. Or at least, that's what she repeated to herself every morning when her alarm went off at 6 a.m. Sharp.
She had followed the start of the season through her TV and phone, and had savored every brief moment Charles had spent in Monaco (which represented, like... twenty days, tops, since the beginning of March). She knew she couldn't complain. That she didn't have the right to. She'd chosen to share her life with a high-level and high-profile athlete, and this situation couldn't obviously be all positive. She knew that other women would have sold their souls to be in her place. To wake up next to Charles, even just once a month. So, she never complained. She endured.
Charles had returned from China two days earlier, and they were heading to Cuba this afternoon, preparing for ten days of pure bliss. She was euphoric. Delighted not to set her alarm for the next day, delighted not to see her boss and colleagues for ten days, delighted to spend time with Charles. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. Yet... There was something.
Yesterday night, at the restaurant, as they were making the final preparations, Charles' phone had lit up on the table and the driver had grabbed it, staring at the screen for a few seconds before exclaiming, "Non, j'y crois pas!". She had shot him a questioning look, and her boyfriend had chuckled before saying "Carlos just texted me. Him and Rebecca are staying at the same resort as us in Havana. This is gonna be so cool."
Oh.
She hadn't responded, just smiled, and returned her attention to the plate of pasta in front of her. Carlos was... a friend. Well, it was actually hard to define. He was obviously primarily Charles' friend, but they had crossed paths quite regularly in the past few years, and naturally, they had hit it off. There was just one issue. One tiny thing.
The man drove her crazy. It was ridiculous. Almost humiliating. She had been sharing her life with Charles for four years. She was happy. She was in love! But... She couldn't deny that Carlos made her feel things that Charles never had. Just the thought of acknowledging this made her want to throw up.
She had never acted on her impulses. Absolutely never. But... she could have. She had noticed glances.
It had started one evening at the restaurant, in 2021, when the two Ferrari drivers had organized a double date for their partners to meet. She had immediately loved Isa, with whom she had hit it off right away. The dinner had gone admirably well, the food was amazing, the wine delicious. The wine. There had been too much of it. They all probably thought so, seeing the bottles go by, but no one had stopped. No one wanted to be the one to break the great mood of the evening. So, they’d drank. Again and again.
If at the beginning of the meal, Carlos had just been casting curious glances in her direction, the wine had changed that. By the time Charles was explaining to Isa how they had met, the Spaniard was piercing her with his gaze. Equally intoxicated and never one to back down from a challenge, she had not flinched at the driver's boldness, holding his gaze, not even blinking. It had lasted a minute. Maybe two. Or even five, before Charles had asked her the name of the movie they'd seen on their third date, you know, the one with the mansion, and she’d finally tore her gaze away from Carlos.
"I believe that was Knives Out," she'd replied, smiling fondly at her boyfriend.
The conversation had resumed its course, and a few hours later, the two couples had parted ways. Lying in bed, in the middle of the night, she could still feel Carlos' burning gaze on her. That could have been nothing. She could always blame it on the wine. But there'd been more.
One day, Charles had suggested that she came with him to an interview he was going to do with Carlos. "It won't take long," he had said. "And as soon as it's over, we'll go grab a bite at that Mexican restaurant you love". She had agreed. The questions had started simple.
"What would be your perfect day?"
"What's your pre-race tradition?"
"Describe your ideal woman"
Even though she had been browsing her phone for a while, absorbed by the device, this question had made her look up. Locking eyes with Charles, the driver had smiled at her before answering.
"That's rather easy to answer, because I've already found her. My ideal woman is career-oriented. She works hard, doesn't count her hours. She wants to succeed because she deserves it, not because she's dating me. She excels in everything she undertakes. She sets no limits for herself, fears nothing. Tries everything. She can be uncompromising, but she knows how to be gentle and caring. She has weaknesses, but she only shows them to me. I am her refuge, and she is mine."
She had smiled, touched, blowing a kiss to her boyfriend.
"Carlos?" the interviewer had said.
"My ideal woman..." the Spaniard had started, searching for his words. "Actually, I have the same, erm… taste as Charles. But I would add that my ideal woman isn't afraid to make mistakes. She allows herself to make wrong choices, to take the wrong path. It's okay, she will always find her way back," he had added, looking her straight in the eyes. That bastard can't be for real, she'd thought.
The last... "incident" had occurred at the end of last season. It hadn't been easy, but she had managed to get time off, and she had joined Charles in Abu Dhabi for the last race of the season. Her boyfriend had finished fifth in the championship, and everyone : drivers, engineers, girlfriends, had ended up at the club to celebrate Max's victory.
She wasn't a fan of nightclubs. She was very migraine-prone, and the music, combined with the neon lights, didn't do well with her. Feeling the pain starting behind her eyes, she had signaled to Charles that she was going outside, and despite his insistence, she had convinced him to stay inside, wanting him to enjoy the evening. In the dark corridor leading outside, she had closed her eyes for a second. No more. Just to relieve the pain for a moment. And she had bumped into someone, of course.
The someone being Mister Sainz himself. Of course.
"I'm sorry," she'd said, still rubbing her eyes.
"Are you alright?"
"Just a migraine."
"Here," he'd said, leading her outside. "Let's get some calm."
She was surprised to see no one outside. Granted, it was already late, almost 4 a.m., and many people had left the club already. But still, she'd expected to see a few people. Smokers, at least...
"Charles fought well," Carlos had said, leaning against a wall.
"Yeah. He'll be champion one day."
"Of course," the Spaniard had say, grinning. "He'll have the cup." A pause. "And the girl."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she'd replied, pretending not to understand.
"Everything Charles wants, Charles gets."
She wasn't in the mood for this. Not tonight. Even if she found it hard to meet the Spaniard's gaze. Even if feeling his eyes on her made her shiver. Even if she could feel her lower abdomen tighten every time the driver's smooth voice reached her ears.
"Maybe everything Charles has, Charles fought for," she had replied.
"Oh yeah? Is that the secret?" Carlos had asked, coming closer.
"There's no secret."
"Do you want me to fight for you?" he had added, so close that she could feel his breath on her neck.
"You must have misunderstood," she'd said, finally meeting his gaze. "I'm talking about the championship."
Carlos had let out a laugh. An ironic, mocking laugh. Disappointed, almost. A laugh that meant "You and I understood each other perfectly well, but you won't dare go further". And she hadn't dared. Casting one last glance, she had gone back inside, leaving him alone under the stars of Baku.
She hadn't seen him since. Good riddance.
"I still can't believe it," Charles had said, yesterday night, taking a spoonful of his tiramisu. "At least, you won't be alone when I go golfing. I haven't seen much of Rebecca, but she seems very nice. I'm sure you two will get along well."
"So that's it? Our romantic vacation just turned into a friend's getaway?" she'd asked, almost offended.
"No, of course not. I'm sorry, mon coeur. We'll spend as much time together as possible, but... it could be nice to do a thing or two with them, right? I thought you loved Carlos."
The sentence had overwhelmed her with guilt.
"I like Carlos. I loved Isa, though," she'd answered, pouting, while Charles looked at her with soft eyes.
"Yeah, I know. But we have to come to terms with the fact that we won't see Isa again. Or, at least, not with Carlos." the driver had said, rising from his seat. "I'll pay, will you wait for me outside?"
Three days and three flights later, she's sitting at the hotel restaurant table, facing Carlos, wondering what Charles could have possibly misunderstood in her request a few days earlier. We'll spend as much time together as possible, yeah, right, she thinks, clearly annoyed.
"It's a pleasure to officially meet you, Rebecca," Charles says, giving the model a big smile. "Carlos must only have eyes for you, because I hear about you every other day."
She chokes on her drink. The whole table looks at her.
"Sorry," she says. "Ice cubes."
The conversation resumes, Rebecca proving to be very interesting. And apparently very much in love with Carlos, she thinks as she watches the blue-eyed blonde. She doesn't like the pinch she feels in her heart. She doesn't even want to put a name on it. It doesn't matter.
"I'm so happy that you’re here," Rebecca says after a while. "I can't wait to spend more time with you all," she finishes with a big smile.
"Yeah. Can't wait," Carlos says, turning his gaze away from Rebecca's eyes. Finding hers.
The following days pass without incident. Charles divides his day between the hotel pool, the golf course, and their bed, where they make love several times a day. If for some time she had the feeling that they were less close, everything seems forgotten under the Cuban sun.
One day, while she was riding Charles particularly loudly, the driver's hands digging into her hips in a deliciously painful way, someone had knocked on their bedroom door. Surprised, they had stopped suddenly, like teenagers caught red-handed, before Charles had jumped out of bed, grabbing a towel on the go.
"You're not actually going to open the door, are you?" she had asked, hidden under the sheets, with only her head out.
"You never know, what if it's urgent... Like... A fire?" her boyfriend had replied before opening the door.
It very obviously hadn't been urgent, and she had felt like dying of embarrassment when she'd seen Carlos's smug face on the other side of the door. He'd quickly glanced past Charles to look at her. Very obviously naked.
"Sorry to interrupt," he'd said, accent thick, licking his lips. "We had agreed to meet ten minutes ago to go play tennis."
"Did we? Oh my god, I'm sorry," Charles had said, closing the door behind him, running to the bathroom to change. Ten minutes later, both of them had left and she’d found herself alone in the room. Hot and bothered.
In the evening, to make up for leaving her alone all day, a very tanned Charles had invited her to a fancy restaurant in Havana, before taking her dancing. She had loved that night, so close together in the anonymity of the Cuban capital. She would have liked to prolong the festivities, to pick up where they had left off, but as soon as they'd returned to the room, Charles had laid down "for five minutes," and had been snoring ever since.
A faint knock echoes against the door of the room, and she gets up discreetly, careful not to wake Charles.
"You've got to be kidding me..." she starts, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Are you sleeping in front of our door or something?" she spits out, annoyed to find herself facing the Spaniard for the second time today.
"Charles forgot this," he says, handing her a towel. A towel with the hotel logo. What is she supposed to do with that? There are plenty of them in the closets. She stares at him intensely, arching a brow. Making no move to retrieve the towel.
"Can I come in?" he finally asks after a few seconds.
Without a word, she steps aside, revealing the room, and the bed where Charles is still snoring.
"Wow," Carlos says, walking into the room, laughing. "He's fucking knackered. I might have gone a bit hard on him this afternoon."
"What did you do?" she asks, clearly unamused.
"Nothing special. Made him run a bit." he replies, smirking. "I'm so sorry if you'd planned to finish what you'd started earlier," eyes boring into hers.
"You're a little shit," she says, disappearing into the bathroom.
She thought he would take the hint. Understand that his presence was no longer desired. In the bathroom, she takes off her earrings in front of the mirror, the door to the bedroom wide open, when the Spaniard appears behind her.
"Are you happy with him?" he asks, leaning against the door frame.
"What kind of fucked up question is that?" she snaps, turning to face him.
"A simple one," Carlos says, eyeing her intensely.
"What are you even doing here?" she asks, turning once again to grab her hairbrush from the countertop. "Shouldn't you be fucking your girl or something?"
Her hate-filled sentence makes him pause for a moment, seeking her gaze in the mirror. Faced with his silence, she lifts her head, meeting his gaze in the mirror.
"I had other plans," he states.
"Well, go fuck someone else then," she says, vehemently brushing her hair. She doesn't realize what she's said until the driver presses his chest against her back, gently pinning her against the countertop. She lets go of the brush, holding the surface with both hands, trying to regain composure. His mouth slides along her neck, making her whole body shiver. He's still watching her in the mirror as he gently bites her earlobe with his teeth.
"You're the nastiest person I've ever met," she says, letting a moan escape her lips as the driver slides his hands under her top.
"I've been dreaming of this for years," he says, running his fingers up along her stomach. "Morals be damned."
In the mirror, she casts a glance at Charles, still asleep on the bed. She can't do this. She's not like that. She's never cheated on any of her partners, let alone him. He doesn't deserve that, she thinks, closing her eyes as Carlos licks her neck.
"We can't do this to Charles," she says, panting. "To Rebecca."
"Rebecca will be gone by dawn if you ask," Carlos replies, gripping her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"What about him?" she breathes, eyes sliding down his lips. "I can't do it, Carlos. I love him."
"Do you?" he asks, still holding her chin. "Say it one more time, and I swear I won't kiss you. I'll go back to my room and pretend nothing ever happened. We can even share breakfast in the morning, all four of us."
"I..." she stutters, closing her eyes.
"I'm about to do something incredibly reckless. I just need you to tell me if you're okay with it."
She doesn't reply. She just looks into his eyes, and crosses the distance between them. Their mouths collide violently, and both moan in unison, desperately clinging to each other. Her hands get lost in his hair, running along his scalp before pulling at the roots, eliciting a growl from him. He kisses her, biting her lips, encircling her face with his hands. His hands. His hands are everywhere. In her hair, on her back, on her butt. She feels like he's touching her everywhere at once, and his touch... His touch is burning, awakening things she's never felt. With anyone. She feels like molten lava. Like electricity.
He doesn't waste a second. He's too scared she'll snap out of it, change her mind. In one swift motion of the arm, he picks her up, sitting her down on the countertop, spreading her legs with his own body. His lips never leave her : he's exploring her neck, her mouth, her cheeks, her forehead, anything to get a taste of her.
He's afraid that he'll only have her that one time. That he'll have to live forever in the memory of that night. So he memorizes everything. The beauty mark at the corner of her mouth. The one on her neck. The fine white scar above her eyebrow. The tiny wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, the ones she earned through years of hearty laughter. He sniffs her, almost like an animal, absorbing her perfume until his head spins. He's so desperate, so pathetic for her, and he would probably be embarrassed by his own behavior if she weren't doing the same on her side. Her fingers trace every vein in his arms, every muscle in his back. She runs her tongue over his teeth, bites his lips, tugs at his hair as if she wanted to keep a lock of it in a necklace.
So far, they had just been kissing. Something she would have a very hard time justifying to Charles, but which could be ruled as a... distasteful accident. But as Carlos grabs her top, making her raise her arms in the air to take it off, immediately going for her breasts, she knows it's too late. That there will be no turning back. She's panting now, and over the shoulder of the Spaniard, as his mouth finds one of her nipples, she steals a glance at her boyfriend. Sound asleep. Unaware.
Carlos continues his descent, lower and lower, tracing a path with his tongue from her breasts to her belly button and down to her lower abdomen. Urgently, almost savagely, he tears off her floral skirt and her thong with both hands in one harsh movement, throwing them on the floor. He's been so impatient, so hurried all this time that when he finally kneels before her, her entire body tenses, bracing for impact.
But the impact doesn't happen.
Not yet. Carlos softly plants kisses on her pubic mound. On the insides of her thighs. On her knees. Anywhere but where she needs him the most.
"Please," she begs, breathless. "Please don't make me wait."
"I've been waiting for four years," he replies, looking at her through his long lashes, amber eyes diving into hers, "You'll survive a few more seconds."
When his mouth finally meets her core, she tilts her head back, moaning. He's slow. So deliberately slow. For years, she's driven him crazy, obsessing over every thought of hers. His revenge is childish. Immature. He's not proud of it, but he wants to drive her insane. To see her lose her mind because of him, just for once. She's having none of it, bucking her hips until his nose gets lost in her folds and finally, he snaps. Grabbing her by the ass, he brings her impossibly closer, lapping, nibbling, biting, even. Her back is pressed against the mirror, one leg over his shoulder, the other hanging down. She's closing her eyes, covering her mouth. Her moans. Praying that Charles hears nothing. Sees nothing.
With the tips of her toes, she finds his groin. Her touch is so soft. Barely there. His response is immediate, and she feels his growl reverberate through her entire core. Continuing his assault, his fingers join his mouth as he circles her clit before inserting one inside of her. Then two. He's watching her, somehow getting harder every time she moans, every time she tugs at his hair.
"I need you," she says between two breaths. "I don't know how much time we have, and I... I need to feel you inside."
He could have passed out right here, just hearing those words leave her lips. He rises, capturing her lips again, while she takes hold of his t-shirt, stripping it off. And then, they hug. Their skins are burning with desire, but there's nothing sexual here. For a few seconds, they stay like that, absolutely silent. Clinging to each other. The embrace tears them both apart. It's almost violent, suffocating, the way all those what's ifs, we could haves and others if only we'd knowns fill the room in those few seconds. The hug is heavy with things that'll never be. Things that'll never leave this embrace. This room. Feeling something wet reach his shoulder, Carlos pulls back. She's crying.
He seizes her lips again, yet this kiss feels so different from the previous ones. It's no longer a kiss of lust, of desire. It's a farewell kiss. He knows it. She knows it too.
Her hands crawl along his chest until they reach the button of his pants, which she pops open with a flick of expert fingers. He helps her remove the garment, which also falls to the ground, along with all the others. In this room, in this Cuban hotel, they are finally completely naked, pressed against each other. He kisses her again, intoxicated by her, her scent, her taste, while his hand finds his cock, stroking it gently. He's so lost in her, he almost doesn't notice her own hand chasing his, stroking him softly. And then, in a new kiss, he presses against her before entering her.
For a few moments, neither of them moves. He, concentrating like never before to not finish there and now. She, accepting the idea that another man than Charles has taken her, and that nothing will ever be the same again. Charles, she thinks, glancing towards the bedroom where her boyfriend has turned over, still asleep, but facing them. He's so close. So close to opening an eye and seeing his girlfriend and his teammate pressed against each other, forehead to forehead. Skin to skin. She's still looking at Charles when Carlos begins to move inside her, holding her tightly in his arms, pressing their chests together in an incredibly sensual motion.
"Tell me what you like. Tell me anything and I'll do it," he says, thrusting softly into her. "I want you to remember this. To remember me."
"I want you to make love to me as if I were yours."
It stings. It stings so fucking much, because the phrase reminds him that she doesn't belong to him. It stings because she's not entirely Charles' anymore, yet she'll never be entirely his either. From this night on, she'll be condemned to wander between them, to float between their desires, their loves. No matter how tightly he holds onto her, no matter how tight she feels around him, he'll never call her his. He obeys nevertheless, quickening his pace, capturing her lips.
His movements are precise, surgical. He feels her contracting around him, and the sensation drives him wild. Her hands are around his neck, seeking balance, support. His pace intensifies even more when he realizes something.
"Say my name," he asks, panting.
She knows why he asks for it, why he needs to hear it, so she doesn't question him.
"Carlos," she says, kissing him. "You're making me feel so good."
And it's true. In a way, it has nothing to do with his movements, with his skills as a lover. All those that he very surely possesses, but are only secondary tonight. It goes beyond that. It's about their connection. With each thrust, Carlos floods her with love, adoration, longing, with so many sensations that leave her feeling deliciously overwhelmed. He doesn't need to say it. Yet, in one thrust, one harsher than the others, he does.
"I love you", he breathes against her skin.
"I know," she says, holding his jaw with one hand, making him look at her, their lips brushing. "I've loved you all this time," she whispers back.
Her revelation must unlock something within him because suddenly, he lifts her, pressing her against the bathroom wall opposite from the sink, as she lets out a surprised cry, feeling him deeper than before. His thrusts resume, stronger, more aggressive. It's a good thing he's holding her as if his life depended on it, because everything is too much : the sensation of his body against hers, their feelings laid bare, the sounds he makes... Her head suddenly feels light, and she rests it in the crook of his neck as he continues to take her so deliciously.
She comes back to herself when she feels something stir in the pit of her stomach, something that takes her breath away.
"Carlos..." she starts.
"Tell me, baby," he replies, biting her ear. "Tell me everything."
"I'm feeling... I don't know... I'm feeling so, so good" she says, incoherent.
"Are you close?" he asks, still pouding into her.
"I've never felt anything like this," she says, panting. "Anything like you."
Then, everything explodes.
She can't hold back her scream, not caring about anything anymore, not even Charles, a few feet away. She's clinging to her lover, scratching his back. Trying to catch her breath. She clenches around him so tightly that he loses control, spilling into her in three thrusts, grunting.
"Give it to me, Carlos," she says. "I can take it. I can take you."
"Mi amor," he says, out of breath. "You're killing me," he adds, still thrusting into her, shooting some more ropes of cum into her cunt while groaning. "Te amo, te amo, te amo," he says, kissing her face.
The two bodies collapse on the floor, against the wall, nestled together in the intimacy of the small bathroom. She shivers, and he grabs a towel to wrap around her. Neither of them says a word. What is there to say, after all? Here, between these four tiled walls, they've already said everything. Shown everything. They've never been closer to each other. They've never been closer to anyone else. They'll probably never experience something like that ever again.
A few steps away from them, a sound of crumpled bedding alerts both of them.
"Babe?" comes Charles' sleepy voice, as their blood turn cold and she rises up impossibly fast to close the bathroom door, wobbling a bit, legs still weak after her orgasm.
"Go back to sleep, baby", she says loudly. "I'm just taking a shower."
There's no response, so after a few seconds, she opens the door again, seeing that Charles has fallen back asleep. Mouth slightly open.
"You have to go," she states, turning back to face Carlos, still sitting on the floor. Carlos stands up, and both of them dress in a heavy silence before quietly tip-toeing across the room. Once in the empty hallway, she gently closes the door of the room she shares with her boyfriend before letting out a breath. He knows what's coming. Something breaks in his eyes, and she feels her heart shatter.
"I meant everything," she says, head low. "I meant every word, every kiss. I'll forever regret the night we just shared, but not in the way you might think. I will regret for the rest of my life ever experimenting this happiness with you and having to let go of it. I love you, Carlos, like I've never loved anyone. That's why we shouldn't see each other again."
His dark eyes bore into hers, almost threateningly.
"Why?" he asks, raising his voice, and she winces, terrified that, on the other side of the door, Charles might wake up again. "Why stop yourself from being happy? Why give up on me?"
"I found a ring," she confesses, struggling to meet his gaze. "In his suitcase. He's going to propose to me, Carlos."
"If that's what it takes to have you forever, let me do it before him," he says, dropping to one knee as she looks away, tears welling up in her eyes. One more thing he'll have taken from Charles, she thinks. He'll forever be the first man to ever kneel before me. And he'll never even know this.
"Please, get up," she says, her voice trembling with a sob.
He does, and when he looks at her again, his eyes are filled with tears.
"Good night, Carlos," she says, taking a step back, holding the door knob to her room. She's gone in an instant, leaving him alone in the poorly lit hallway at half past three in the morning. Her scent all over his skin, her words all over his mind, her grip all over his heart.
#I'm not okay lol#might fuck around and write a part two with a pregnant reader#f1#f1 2024#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#charles leclerc#formula 1#carlos sainz#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz x you#lilasamaaa
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The Burned Memories | Prologue
❥︎ The Burned Memories | Navigation
Prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2..
❥︎ summary - You, a woman in her mid 20s, moved in your hometown as your father decided to leave your mother alone. Feeling nostalgic you decided to take a scroll through your childhood. Remembering your childhood friend, that meant the world to you, you wondered if he still lived here. Still feeling a bit mad at him after he didnt fulfill his promise, you decided to find him.
❥︎ word count - 1.2k
please read the tws before deciding to read this story. You may find them in the navigation and remember your mental health matters!
I'd like to apologize for any gramatic or any other errors English is not my first language!
Moving in your hometown was awfully hard for you. The feeling of nostalgia washed over you, as you saw the forest that you used to play in, when you were a kid. The trees have grown, indeed. You walked up to the old entry, that you and your friend created. It was extremely hard to expose the hidden and abandoned path for two small children. It took hours! However when you two finally succeeded, you had to go home since it was already late and you had to eat dinner.
You truly cherished the memories that you shared with your close ones here. You remembered every story like it happened yesterday. You were a bit shocked to see the path fully exposed. Back in the old days, it was only a little hole that only children could fit it. Half of you was happy, knowing that you won't have to crawl and struggle through the hole that didn't exist anymore. However the other half of you was disappointed, 'cause your hard work got wasted.
Deciding to take a scroll through the forest, you followed the familiar path. Noticing how half of the forest turned into an hunting area, you weren't surprised at all. The hunting season was just around the corner and you were not happy about that. You moved into your old household as your father decided to leave your mother alone. She needed your help and you provided it as you loved your mother dearly. He, himself found a better house in a wealthier area. Unfortunately for you, your house was very close to the once so familiar forest. When you were little everything looked so big and magical but now? The magic had dissapered from the once fairy tale space.
Turning around on your heel, you faced with an abandoned playground. Kids, including you, used to play here a lot. You were shocked when you saw it in its terrible state. The slide dirty with mud and weird black substances, rotted and once more, everything was terribly rotted. After a while of thinking, you began to understand why this place went abandonment. Really, whose idea it was to put a playground inside of a forest?
Continuing your scroll, you began to remember your old childhood friend. What was his name? You couldn't remember. You didn't believe that you forgot such an important thing. His whole face was a blur, yet you still remembered that charming smile of his. Somehow he always managed to make you smile and laugh. You started wondering if he is still as funny as he was in the past. Wait.. Does he still live here? Does he still remember you? You hoped that the answer to both of these questions were positive.
By the time you came back home it was already dark. Walking in, you greeted your mother, apologising for taking so long. She just brushed it off saying that "you don't have to spend all of your life in this house." Chuckling a bit you mentally agreed with her.
Looking around, your eyes were met with your luggage that you did not unpack yet. A sigh escaped your lips as you made your way over to your belongings. The truth is that you were too exhausted to unpack them, however you knew that they just wouldn't unpack themselfs.
Walking into your old room, that holds so much lovely memories from your childhood, you noticed a newspaper on the floor. April 11th, 1929, yesterdays date. Your mother must have opened the window in your room, and the newspaper must have flew it way in here. Dropping your belongings, you just noticed the cold temperature in the room. Freezing even. Closing the window you picked up yesterday's newspaper to look at it.
The axeman of New Orleans attacked again!
There's an axeman going around? How didn't you know that there's a murderer in the place where you grew up in? Anxious, you decided to sit down on your bed and read the rest of the article.
Time flew by and you grew more and more disappointed of the news you just read. No wonder father moved out you thought leaving the newspaper on your nightstand and rubbed your eyes. Tommorow will be a hard day and you knew that. The luggages didn't unpack themself yet so you had to finally do it. Wanting to forget about the informations that you acknowledged you moved to your belongings and started unpacking.
There wasn't really a lot of things there; just some clothes, hygiene stuff, basic writing supplies and some of your most important things that you could never get rid of.
9 pm. That was the time on the clock when you finished unpacking. Exhausted you rolled in your bed, not even thinking of changing into your pijamas. Your mind started to thrift to the events that happened today. The memories of your childhood were truly worthy being in an museum.
Just as you were about to fall asleep, your mind decided to remind you of him, once again. Wait.. What if he was killed my the axeman? You truly hoped that it wasn't true. You thought that maybe, just maybe you two could get the chance to catch up. However the promise.. You had no idea why didn't he keep the promise. Before you could think more about it, your eyes closed by themself.
"Tag, You're it! " You giggled before running deeper into the forest. You heard footsteps mixing with your own behind you, signalling that he was chasing you. Turning, and making an unexpected turn, you failed to notice how your dress got all muddy. You had no idea that you would get scolded after you'd came back home by your mother.
You laugh, as you turned around to see that you successfully lost your friend. Hiding in a bush that slightly tore your dress, you waited for him to give up or to just walk by so you could scare him.
"Boo!"
You screamed as, to your suprise, your friend found you. "not fun.." You mumbled as he helped you get up. "You cheated!"
"I didn't!" He argued, giggling a bit at your indignation. "You're just too easy to catch."
"No i am not!" You gasped in annoyance.
Your argument went on and on, you accusing him of cheating and him defending himself as he told you that he just creeped behind. Before you knew it your legs were leading the way to your houses.
Soon enough it was time to say your goodbyes as you both were standing beside your homes.
"Despite everything, I enjoyed hanging out with you today, ..." Your younger self confessed to him. Wait, him? You clearly heard you say his name. Why couldn't you remember it? Why couldn't you remember his name.
Before you knew it, you were dragged to a pitch black hole. You wanted to scream, but for some reasons you couldn't manage to utter anything.You turned around as you heard a familiar voice calling your name. Nothing was there. You gasped when something dragged you by your legs, finally screaming to let you go.
You jumped out of your bed, sweating in a middle of the night. You could hear the birds chipp as the rain continued to pour rather aggressively.
It was just a nightmare
taglist:
@sodavizz @nyx91 @lemonyboy97 @sirens-and-moonflowers @crescentparadise
hii!! The author here. I'm so so so sorry for the wait I had to plan this story out and I'm not very good at posting regularly!! I'm trying my best and I hope you understand. 🥹Also I apologize for such a short prologue but I promise the next chaoter will be longer. Love y'all!! 🫶🫶
#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel alastor#human alastor x reader#human alastor#human alastor x you#human! alastor x reader#human alastor fanfiction#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor fanfiction#fanfic
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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........
#jake kiszka x reader#jake kiszka fic#jake kiszka fanfic#jake fic#my fics#covet#if you found this part intense in any capacity.....#just get ready for the rest of ch 11 lol <3
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