#it makes the world a better place fr thank you for doing your part
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rapidly shaking your hands up and down, meesh
Jaytim are the epitome of "stay together, because neither of you should be inflicted on other people" and "I don't want what you have. But it seems to work for you so go off I guess"
LIZ BESTIE YOU ARE SO CORRECT AND IT'S SOMETHING I'VE MENTIONED BEFORE ON HERE AND I FORGET WHERE BUT FR
MY FAVORITE FLAVOR OF THEM IS NOBODY DESERVES TO HAVE TO PUT UP WITH EITHER OF THEM AND NEITHER OF THEM DESERVES ANYTHING BUT EACH OTHER!!! THEY DESERVE EACH OTHER (AFFECTIONATELY DEROGATORY)*
*worth noting that this is also true of damitim in my heart of hearts
#🗡🐕 ragnarokhound#i do not remember why I made this your bestie tag but I sure did do that#anyways hi liz!!!!#missed you!!!!#i love all my fandom ppl and I wish I had more energy to be active rn 💚#fr tho i love hearing from yall and every time one of you sends me an ask or a post or something a kitten is born#or a puppy or a tree or an angel or something#it makes the world a better place fr thank you for doing your part#batsasks#bibatrambles#jaytim
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Hewos! How would the Sinclair Brothers act when they give their s/o her first kiss?
First kiss W/ The Sinclairs HC's!
sinclair brothers x fem!reader
contains— fluufffffff, minor violence in Bo's other than that its cute and its late while i write this so apologies for bad writing
requests— open!!! ill write for any slasher atp
vampyr's note— school is bustin' my girl balls fr, Sorry if the guys are a lil ooc, im delusional so I be just writing how I feel the situation would go frrrr, also its not gonna be good lol i just wanted to write something b4 bed because this is like my hobby
word count— 756 words and 3.8k characters
gifs aren't mine! credit for the dividers :D: @mmadeinheavenn thank you for your service 🤍
Bo Sinclair:
Your first kiss with Bo is rather.... gruesome :D (if you are a bo girly you gotta at least be a lil violent js)
He gives you your first kiss in his shop.
He has you talking it up with some visitors and keeping them distracted so he can strike a good kill with them
As you're talking with the visitors you notice one of the girls getting a lil too handsy with Bo. Shes touching his chest, biting her lips, and he's entertaining her too (cause he just would)
So while the other visitors leave, you ask the girl to stay back and to chit chat with you.
Once she turns her head, you blackout...
All of a sudden she's on the floor and you have a wrench in your hand thats bloody.
As she screams for help on the floor, Bo rushes up and this lil fucker has the biggest smile on his face.
"I knew you'd do somethin' about it" he coos at you.
"I-I dont know what came over me.." you say dropping the wrench on the floor with a loud bang.
"Darlin' its fine. Didn't think you'd go all out for your man like that." he'd say playfully.
He grabs you and smashes his lips against yours, dominating the kiss in seconds, while the girl basically watches and is bleeding out.
He has his hands on your cheeks and is kissing you like you just did something so amazing and wonderful.
"That's my girl." he says low and husky in your ear.
"Make sure she's the first one Vinnie does." You say as you pull away, completely flustered.
Lester Sinclair:
Your first kiss with Les is really sweet and rather innocent.
He kisses you in the forest (no not by the roadkill pile lol)
I feel like you and him just go exploring ALL the time
If you're not a nature person, he will beg you with PUPPY DOG EYES to go out with him constantly (you better give in, he deserves the world)
but I feel like he'd have a little area in the forest for you that has a fairy lights and a pretty stone path to a swinging bench that he built, just for you and him to have convos and talks.
I feel like you'd guys have this deep convo thst has to do with trauma and childhood trauma.
While you're pouring your heart out to him, he very lovingly places a small kiss on your lips as tears fall from your eyes while you remember your past and remember the things youve pushed past.
The kiss is soft, and quick.
He pulls away and is a bit starstruck at the random boost of confidence he just gained,
""m sorry. I- should've asked..." he says with the rosiest cheeks everrrr
he'll hold your hand and bow his head in shame, thinking hes gone too far.
but his heart starts to flutter once he feels your head rest on his shoulder as you guys talk some more.
Vincent Sinclair:
Your first kiss with Vinnie is adorable
It's in his basement ofc
You were in his bed, watching him work on some new sketches
Your eyes felt heavy and your breath was slowly starting to even out
Vincent hears your steady breaths after a while and rolls his chair over to you quietly, sketchbook and pencil in hand already.
This cutie straight up starts sketching your closed eyes, your nose, and your messy hair that's sprawled all over his pillow
as he adds more detail to his drawing he finally gets to the part of your face that leads to your lips.
he looks up from his sketch book and truly stares at your lips for awhile, really eyeing the depth of them and the softness of them.
he tilts his head to get a better view of them and he finally takes his mask off.
(he tends to wait for you to be asleep to finally take it off in the first few months of you guys dating)
he gets into bed with you and looks at your sleeping face and just simply admires it. the sound of your soft snores coming from your parted lips relaxes him.
eventually he very timidly places his lips onto yours, careful not to wake you up.
he places a few more pecks on your lips before pulling the duvet over your body.
after that night, it becomes a routine of his to watch you sleep and to sneak in some maskless pecks to your sleeping figure
#im so tired#wrote this at 2 am lol#i have to get up at 4am lol#vincent sinclair#slashers#house of wax#slashers x reader#bo sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair imagine#vincent sinclair x reader#lester sinclair#lester sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x reader imagine#bo sinclair x reader imagine
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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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House of Chains
Part III
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x mage!reader
Warnings: noncon, smut, yandere, obsession, canon-typical violence, chase scenes, death of minor characters.
Words: 2k
Summary: In return for help to come back to your home world, you have been faithfully supporting the Greens to put Aegon on the throne. But when your promise is fulfilled, neither Otto nor Aemond are keen on letting you go.
Part I
Part II
_________
When he binds your arms with your own sash and forces his knee between your thighs as you struggle beneath him, the horrible realization finally comes to you. Aemond isn't here just to stop you from leaving. He wants to bind you to him, and this is the only way he knows how to bind a woman to man.
He thinks if he takes you against your will, soils you, you won't leave. Otto is most likely waiting for him to do his deed before dragging you to the sept first thing in the morning and have you married to Aemond. That's what they do to their women to keep them in place, and it'll be no different with you.
Of course, you won't stop. But the understanding doesn't make you feel better when Aemond tears the fabric of your underdress.
"Please, don't!" You cry out, praying for your guards to show up as if they would stop their own prince from taking a woman they most likely already consider a whore thanks to his nightly visits. "Please!"
Aemond turns into a sleek, lithe snake, his no longer gloved hands sliding down your breasts and your hips while he stares you dead in the eye, lips pursed as if he warns you who is in control.
"Didn't you want it?" He asks you venomously, getting rid of your see-through robe at last. "When you let it me in your chamber every night."
"I thought you were in pain!" You scream in defense, cheeks tear-stained, but Aemond doesn't ease his grip on you. "I thought you needed my help!"
How silly, you think between your desperate attempts to kick him, that you believed he was hurt. That you thought him innocent and misunderstood when he is what all Targaryens are - a predator ready to sink his teeth in you. Aemond is no boy, and it was naive of you to put your trust in him. His ambitions for the throne are too great, and he will do whatever it takes to get what he wants, even if it means putting you on a leash.
You are tired. There is not an ounce of magic left in your bones, and your continous wrestling with the One-eyed prince leaves you breathless. You have no strength to resist him, so you just cry when he undresses himself on top of you, shedding his leather clothes the way a snake sheds its skin.
"Why do you do this?" You ask between sobs, Aemond's face inches above yours, his breath burning your skin.
He puts his hand on your cheeks wiping the tears, but the new ones roll down immediately after, and your face grows wet again. "I would prefer to do it after we wed, but there is little difference."
You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to muffle your cries not to give him the satisfaction. Was he always a psychopath? Did he fake his pain to get you to trust him? Was anything he told you true?
His skin feels cold to the touch, and you shiver when he leans over you, caging you with his painfully pale body. Aemond isn't particularly vicious when you stop struggling, wiping your tears again, then freezing when he looks at you, completely bare beneath him, and his hand pauses an inch above your breast, like he isn't sure what he wants to do to you.
Perhaps, he doesn't. He is not the type to be spending his time with women the way Aegon does. You want to laugh at Aemond for being a near-virgin, but it isn't a funny discovery. It's going to hurt you.
Swallowing your tears and what's left of your pride, you mutter, thinking the best you could do is to make it the least painful as possible, "Please, prepare me."
Aemond stares at you from above, a blush suddenly covering his cheeks as if he just realized what is going to happen.
"Prepare me!" You almost scream at him from frustration, turning your head away to stop seeing his face, cruel and fair. "I'm not a brothel worker. You'll... you'll split me in two."
It is awkward and humiliating to see Aemond struggle, trying to remember how he is supposed to help, his hand getting between your thighs. You have to ask him to be gentle again so he doesn't just start pumping his fingers in and out, giving you time to adjust, to breathe. Still whimpering from time to time, you press your forehead into his shoulder and bite your lips. You'll get out of here. Whatever Aemond does, it won't stop you. Yes, it will hurt, and you will spend a long time trying to forget this night, but it will pass, and you'll get home. You'll find out how to get back there even if you need to murder your way to your world.
Apparently, Aemond mistakes your silence as a sign of you finally accept defeat, submitting to him, and his thumb slowly circles your mound, drawing a sigh from you, his eager eyes watching your mouth intently. He is surprisingly careful, although he himself is already hard, his arousal poking you in the stomach. Hopefully, he wouldn't last long. He's inexperienced, only pretending to know it all and have everything under control, and maybe he'll even fall asleep after that.
Fall asleep. You can make him fall asleep. The spell takes very little magic, and by the time Aemond is done with you, you should be able to scrape together enough power to cast it. You just need to wait, not arouse his suspicion, and he'll fall prey to your charms.
You are no litte girl. You have been through it all - spying, interrogation, assassination - and young Aemond is not such a threat to you he thinks he is. You'll get through it. It will take just a little bit of patience.
"I wanted to touch you for months," he whispers, nervous. "I thought you let me in every night because you want me to do it to you. But you'd just cast your spells and then speak to me like a friend."
"I truly wanted you to be my friend," you reply quietly, forcing yourself not to cry, not to believe him when he talks to you like that.
He lowers your face closer to you until his nose touches your cheek, and you wince. "I will be. Once we- once it all passes, my loyalties will lie with you."
Surpressing a chuckle, you turn your head to the side because you can't stand looking at Aemond now. It he lying deliberately or he doesn't yet understand that people like him are only loyal to themselves and no one else's? Even his family talk is all rubbish. Were he able to dispose of Aegon quietly before his crowning, he would. You remember his reluctant face when you guarded the doors to his older brother's room before the ceremony.
Your lack of resistance provokes Aemond to be more daring, and suddenly you feel his long, slender finger inside of you as you hiccup from unexpected intrusion. It'll be fine, you chant inside your head, squeezing your eyes shut. It'll pass. Surely, it won't even last that long. What is an hour of forced sex with a heathen prince when you have slept in the coils of Hydra and collected deaths as a tithe to the Wandering Sea? Aemond might not even last that long, and you'll be able to put him to sleep and escape soon after.
He exhales in your face, adding one more finger once he feels you are growing wet, his forehead touching yours. "Look at me," he whispers, and there is so much longing in his voice you feel like suffocating.
How much of what you know of him is true? Does he really have feelings for you, or is it all just means to an end?
"Am I that unlikable?" Aemond asks, his voice but a whisper, and you tear up, finally opening your eyes to see him right above.
Worst of all, his face still brings you some sort of comfort. Seemingly, your brain refuses to recognize Aemond as an enemy instead of a friend, an ally. As bitter as you are with him assaulting you for nothing but his own gain, you secretly hope he doesn't do it just to simply satisfy his interests. That there's more to it, and you just don't know the full story. As if you say the right words, he will stop and comfort you instead, wrap you into sheets tenderly, and tell you the truth.
God, you are such a hopeless idiot.
"You have the prettiest face in King's Landing," you croak before starting to cry again, bending your head towards your shoulder, unable to bear the pain.
Now you finally admit to yourself how lovesick for him you were, and it is a tragedy to have the first man you've loved in years do this to you. How much it hurts to think him vulnerable right now when it is you he nearly cut open and took your insides out to put an elaborate mechanism inside and have you behave the way he wants you. Aemond is as much of a monster as Otto, and you shouldn't have sympathy for him.
"You could kiss me for a change," you whisper angrily at him, tears streaming down your pillow. "Make me feel less of a bed-slave."
"I have never thought of you that way," he says quickly, finally taking his hand away from and wiping it against the sheets before running his other one over your tear-stained cheeks again and again in an attempt to soothe you. "But you are... you all are an image of Mother."
You know these words, spoken by Ser Christon when some knights were conversing in derogatory terms about Street of Silk prostitutes they had visited. It warmed and at the same time perplexed you, the way he spoke about those women. Most worlds didn't treat them kindly, and it was a surprise to find a man of his views in this anachronistic place. You didn't know Aemond took his teacher's words to heart.
Funny how he is still violating you at this very moment, this two-faced hypocrite.
His first kiss is feather-light as if he's afraid he'll make you cry harder. His thin lips land on your temple, and you hold your breath, afraid to let out a sound. You remind yourself not to struggle. The more Aemond relaxes, the higher are your chances of putting him to sleep fast and running to the Dragonstone.
If you will be able to get through the row of guards, no doubt stationed all over the corridor, when you can use almost none of your magic, definitely not a concealing spell that takes far too much power. And then somehow smuggle your way out of the castle when Otto Hightower is on high alert.
Next, Aemond's kiss lands on your cheek, and he's so gentle, tender, that you barely hold your tears. You wish he wouldn't force you. You wish he wouldn't depend on you and you on him. Were you both mages, you would agree to be his partner, no doubt, and you would travel the worlds with him by your side.
You'd let him kiss and touch you. Maybe, just maybe, if he asked teacher Soren for your hand in marriage under the Rootless Tree the way it's done in the Tower, you'd even consider wedding him.
Why does it have to be like this?
"Don't cry," he mutters quietly, attempting to kiss away your tears, only making it worse. Then you feel the head of his cock touching your lower lips, and you freeze like a mouse in front of a predator. Aemond only coos softly at you, taking your hair away from your face with his large, warm palm, "Shhhh."
Part IV
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Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen#yandere#hotd#the house of the dragon#house of the dragon
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Splitting up Team 7....Let's get into it
Disclaimer❗️: I'm not trying to dog on anyone who makes alternate team headcanons for fun. I have my own thoughts ofc, but as long as you're truly not hurting anyone, it's not that deep. I'm sharing my thoughts on this since I've seen this take a few times over the years, but do with it what you will!
As always, you're free to share your thoughts! Just be sure to keep it respectful :)
Tbh, it baffles me when ppl say that Sakura (bc that's usually who's removed from the team in these takes) or anyone else on Team 7 would've had better development if they were assigned to a different team. I think people fail to consider that Team 7’s close, consistent proximity and becoming teammates was one of the key reasons why they were able to get past their initial impressions of each other and form a deep bond.
This is only one example, but as far as we know, no other team went on any dangerous missions like Team 7 did to the Land of Waves. Granted, that was an outlier since that mission was supposed to be a C rank; however, it was vital to their individual growth. It shaped their perceptions of each other as teammates and of the shinobi world as a whole. If Sakura, Sasuke, and/or Naruto were placed on a different team (assuming little-to-nothing else was changed in the series), I'd deem it unlikely that they would've grown to be the shinobi they became, although not as quickly.
If you want, you can view this through the lense of recent media, particularly the YA genre. There are many reasons why they tend to be set in middle/high school (though I think that's starting to change and expand, thank goodness), one of them being the outcomes of forced, consistent proximity.
The characters are placed in an environment where they're (more often than not) forced to interact; it's not like college or other settings where you can simply leave if you don't want to be there, especially without it being fair to others in your group. While it’s ultimately up to them to choose whether or not they want to become more than acquaintances with their classmate(s), their relationship has a higher chance of forming due to being consistently around each other.
The same applies to Team 7 and honestly, the other Rookie 9 teams. They were all placed on their teams- a learning and training environment with forced, consistent proximity- for a reason. Ino-Shika-Cho being placed together since they're THEE Ino-Shika-Cho trio (if any sensei had messed that iconic trio up....bless their hearts fr), and Team 8 all being trackers.
For Team 7, it was also so they could all learn and benefit from each other in some way. Naruto could benefit from Sasuke’s proficiency in ninjutsu, Sakura's intelligence, and both of their calmer personalities(give or take with Sakura) seeing as he got the lowest marks at the academy and misbehaved a lot. Sasuke could benefit from Naruto and Sakura's social and outgoing personalities seeing as he got low scores in cooperation and teamwork.
While Sakura performed well in her academics, she slacked greatly in anything pertaining to using physical strength. She could benefit from Sasuke and Naruto's taijutsu and battle skills seeing as she got low marks in taijutsu.
I think it's also worth noting that Sakura is a balance of their personalities while having her own. While she's not always on 10 like Naruto was, she was able to be social and upbeat and like him. She wasn't emotionally cold or nonchalant like Sasuke, but she was able to match his calmer "think first, act later" demeanor. Ofc, they've all had their moments and didn't act the same way all the time. I love that Team 7 can share one brain cell at times, lol.
As I said in the preface, I'm not trying to down anyone making alternate team headcanons for fun. That being said, it's just odd to me that people claim that placing them on different teams would suddenly "fix" their characters. Becoming a team was an integral part of their characterization, with each of them serving a unique purpose in one another’s growth. (This includes Sai too, though that may be a convo for another day.)
Like the title says, this was a starting "Let's get into it" post. I have more specific thoughts on this take, but these are my initial thoughts for now :).
Sources: The academy report cards are only in the physical fanbook. You can find an online transcription of it here and photo scans here!
#just some thoughts#Naruto#sakura haruno#sasuke uchiha#Sasusaku#Analysis#Bc what other motives would Team 7 have had to challenge and move past their first impressions of each other once they graduated academy?#I'd also argue that Sakura and would feel out of place down to the color theory/dynamics of each team but that's a convo for another day
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Tw: Angst
Ship: Chiscara
Basically my cope in case Childe kicks the bucket fr in Fontaine
Scaramouche looks down at the tall, ginger man in his arms. He’s badly hurt. It’s so odd seeing the 11th Harbinger like this. Usually, the blood that stains his clothes is that of his enemies, not his.Childe’s eyes are closed and his breathing is labored. Scaramouche grits his teeth, choosing to look ahead rather than down at his past colleague.
I need to get him help.
The idiot used his Foul Legacy transformation despite knowing the havoc it wreaked on his body. Scaramouche knew why Childe did it, yet he didn’t know why. Why did he have to always throw himself so carelessly into a fight? Why did he always sacrifice himself for those he cared about?
Didn’t this dumbass know this lonely, ludicrous world needed him?
It’s then that Childe speaks.
“Why are you even helping me? I’m a harbinger. You don’t even know me.”
Scaramouche sighs.
“Just shut up. I’m doing this for the Traveler.”
“Ah. If you know the traveler, then can you please give this to her,” Childe weakly unclips his faintly glowing hydro vision. “I want at least a part of me to return back to my family.”
“Shut up. It’s not like you’re dying. Not on my watch.”
It’s then Scaramouche looks down again and his expression changes from that of irritation to horror. He instantly stops in his tracks as he realizes the ashes in the air are not from the city on fire but from Childe, who is slowly dissipating in his arms. Childe lets out a wry laugh.
“I don’t know about that. I think I bit off a bit more than I could chew this time.”
Scaramouche drops to his knees, placing Childe on the floor. He’s silent, absolutely shocked and terrified at what is happening and his inability to stop it. Despite this, Childe has known this the whole time, but he is unnaturally calm about it, resigned to his fate. He gazes at Scaramouche.
Please don’t look at me. I can’t bear to watch another person I love die. Please don’t look-
“What is your name?”
“I… I don’t have one.”
“Well… mine is Ajax.”
I know. I’ve known you and would like to continue to know you.
So please don’t go.
“Though, not having a name makes it a bit more difficult to thank you then.”
“Thank me for what?”
“For keeping me company before I die.”
Scaramouche can feel something twist in him. He tilts his hat, trying to hide the pain on his face before he responds in a strained voice.
“Wait. I do have an old name I used to go by. It’s Scaramouche.”
“Scaramouche? Ha… that name… it sounds so familiar.” Childe states, his voice growing weaker with each word. “I wish I could’ve gotten to know you. It would’ve been nice if we met in better circumstances. Maybe then, you would remember me fonder than how I am now.”
The harbinger falls silent, a smile still on his lips before even that disappears as well.
“Ajax?”
Scaramouche stares at the red scarf and hydro vision in his hands. He feels the tears well in his eyes as he hastily wipes them, cursing himself. He promised he wouldn’t cry like this ever again.
“You idiot…”
Stupid humans. Why were they so, so fragile?
#chiscara#scarachilde#tartaglia#fontaine#genshin impact#childe#scaramouche#wanderer#pls let him live
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i love love your work.....could you plz do one imagine for letitia where you get seriously ill or maybe an accident happened and its angst then fluff
Of course and thank you I love you to.
ㅤㅤ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ˖ ☞ ࣭ ࣪ ᩠ ֗ ✦ ࣭ ࣪ ˖
"Almost Lost You "
Letitia Wright x Black Fem Reader
Warning: Just sad can have you sniffling an wiping tears but you know it gets better overall gone have you in your feels for real. Does it get better 🤷🏾♀️
Authors note : NO PART 2 (for now) Anyway spelling you know the drill
Taglist: @tuesdaylovesu (wifey fr) @writesbyriri @yvxmpire @ziayamikaelson @locoforshuri @shuriislut @letitias-fav @shuri-my-love @adeola-the-explorer @atssukoo @niaalove @randomhoex @womenlxver @secretgyals @saintwrld @2k7-sparkles
(If you want to be added fill out the form)
ㅤㅤ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ˖ ☞ ࣭ ࣪ ᩠ ֗ ✦ ࣭ ࣪ ˖
Y/n's Pov
You wake up from noise around you hearing chatting walking, cries, whimpers, doors, beeps. Where were you and how did you get their. You try to open your eyes. Opening your eyes everything is in a blur. Even though you vision had a blur you could make guess on where you were.
The hospital!
When trying to think back all you could remember was you being on your way to tishs place to watch a movie. You look to your side to see Tish sitting beside you holding your hand looking down.You try to make a smile
“it’s ok I’m good”
You say in a whispering tone ,You found it hard to speak. she looks up an stares .You hear her let out a gasp .She removes the hand from your hand to get the hospital remote.You see her a click button but couldn’t tell which one
You watch a nurse begin to walk towards your room.The nurse closes the door from behind and the walks to the desk.
“How long was she out for”
“Four Weeks”
You look at her confused you where in a coma for 4 weeks?
“Four Weeks”?
“Yes 4 Weeks some people where starting to plan a funeral “
“Mmm”
“I thought I lost you”
Tears start to run down your face you could imagine how she feels.
“During your coma i thought lost you for good but I still had hope”
you give her a kiss on her head .
“Your not getting rid of me that easy”
“Well she’s going to have to stay for the next couple days “
“That’s fine”
“It’s going to take a while before she can do simple tasks so be by her side at all times”
“Don’t worry I will”
You started to watch tv and get some jello they gave you. You eat the jello quick and you relax .Tish gets in the hospital bed and lays next you . Her head lays on her shoulder .
For the next couple hours you caught up on world and smiled on her new accomplishments.
You fall asleep on the pillow.
*Ill bring her blanket up more and I’ll give her a nice kiss”
Tish sleeps on your shoulder knowing she was going to protect you and that your where safe.
A nurse walks in later
“visiting hours are over”
She looks at you and tish cuddling
“Oh what the heck I’ll let ‘em be happy “
The nurse leaves the room with a smile . Even though tish was scared to almost lose you she took not living your side literally
#letitia fan fiction#letitia x reader#letitia wright shuri#shuri#shuri fanfiction#shuri udaku#princess shuri#daddy panther#letitia wright#queen shuri
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hello it’s the joe fic anon!! i don’t think i mind what sort of pov or what pairing, like i love combinatorics because i Adore the “pining idiots” sorta trope, so i would happily read more of those guys being obsesssd with joe (because you know. me too brother). but also because i haven’t read much joe perspective i would happily try that too. i know this literally doesn’t narrow it down AT ALL lmao so no hurry, whatever u provide will feed me good ❤️
heehee ok i got u anon!!!! as a joegirl god the more descriptors of how in love with joe the protag is the better bc YEAG ARGGG (just one part of why combinatorics will forever be my favest like ME TOO PATRICK!!!!!!) but anyways here is my tailored fic recs based on u wanting joe-centric fics :D there is some overlap ofc with my other recs posts and i just realized that most of these recs are just joe pov MORE PINING OVER JOE IN FICS PLS FANFIC AUTHORS THANK U!!!! but there is some of that here too still (combinatorics always the king for that tho). sorry this took a couple days shoutout to finals szn but JOE-CENTRIC FICS COMING RIGHT UP
joetrick:
technology by rosiedoesfic. i’m due in for a reread very soon but it’s a wonderful story about joe and patrick both being single at 30 and joining a dating app and being each other’s road test for dating. written for the same prompt as combinatorics so they’re like sister fics in my mind!!! :)
friction in your jeans by dogboytrohman. hello. one of the tags says gratuitous descriptions of how beautiful joe is and it’s true. patrick has a crisis when joe first gets his lip pierced and they kiss and mess around
thnks fr th knckrs by rosiedoesfic. joe slowly pulling patrick into the world of being interested in panties and my godddddd it’s so good!!!
token by gigantic. joe’s pov, but he’s on a mission to have gay sex, and he has to face a few unsuccessful times before he can finally fulfill his dream ;3 soooo good
brace yourself and find a safe place by distortedmya. joe comes out as an adult, and when he’s struggling a bit patrick spends time with him. very sweet read!!!
good fortune by heyginger. a short very fluffy new year’s centered fic. no spoilers since it’s short ;)
message in a bottle by bunnytrohman. joe realizes he’s in love with patrick during 2ourdust, i keep recommending this one because i love it sm and i was lucky enough to be able to get to beta for richie on this one!!
wentzman:
the things we do by gigantic. joe stays with pete for a few days and helps him get rid of some of ashlee’s stuff and pete likes to wear her clothes, and basically joe and pete start fucking. a lot. it’s joe pov so no pete pining over joe or anything but oh my god pls read it, it is so impeccably written!!! probably my fav wentzman fic ever
when you wake up the world will come around. kid fic about pete and joe being dads that fall in love. another one of my fav wentzman fics UGH so good so cute. another joe pov btw (i believe!!! it’s been a minute since i reread this one)
eyeliner = consent by arsenic. ryan ross has a scheme to get joe and pete to sleep with each other by making patrick put eyeliner on joe so as to seduce pete. it’s a wild-ass concept but im obsessed also PETE POV if i remember correctly
ok i think im going to stop there for now, BUT the nice thing about joetrick fics (and wentzman but ppl have never just asked for wentzman recs lol) is that they’re pretty inherently joe-centric so if you get the itch for more beyond these ones, i have two other posts of fic recs on my blog already!!! here and here. some of the fics i’ve recommended here can be found there too, but there are others that are excellent choices in those posts as well!!! i’m also always here to chat about fics beloved anon, and i can try to dig through my archive even more if u happen to need more recs :3 now go forth and enjoy joe centric fics :D 💖
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Peepers you fool, of course Hater needs you! You’re his emotional support watchdog. (Seriously though, I love your deathglare ideas. Please keep them coming, I’m obsessed with these two awful awful men)
ALL ABOARD THE HATE TRAIN!!!! WOO WOO!!!
thanks tho LOL I get shy about posting my death glare rambles, but I really do love these two goobers.
emotional support watchdog is hilarious. Perhaps Hater is Peepers emotional support front man lol, Peepers absolutely has a "DO IT FOR HIM" board with pics of Hater that he looks to for motivation.
Something about this silly ship just fills me with inexplicable joy, fr. It can be cute or sad or uplifting or a tug of war. So many scenarios, and it brings out interesting facets of their characters and what they represent. If Wander is Love (fueled by self-love=true love), and Hater is hate (fueled by self-loathing), then Sylvia might be... tough love? Or how it's tough to love, but love is strong/love makes you strong?
And Peepers is ...puppy love? or how a person can fall in love with hate, relying on hate to give them strength? etc...?
I think it's notable that Peepers' and Hater's issues seem to mostly stem from their environment, with Peepers having a harsh home life offering little love, and Hater most likely waking up with no idea who/where/when he was, with no one to teach him how to navigate such a scary world. Dejected and abandoned, they STILL managed to find each other in this big, lonely universe and become a part of a great, terrible thing Together. Lonely, together. Broken, together. Dorks, together. Hating others, together. Loving each other, in their own ways, together, and no one else has to know!
Hurt people hurt people, but sometimes hurt people find each other, and perfectly fill in each other's gaps. It's a bit sad, and certainly not the healthiest, but for a time those two had real hope between them. A hope for a better life than what the universe currently handed them, a passion. A love, or what they could muster of it. Peepers was the very first person to see just how GREAT Hater truly was, and that makes Peepers special. Peepers struggles with feeling insignificant and forgotten, so I think he takes great pride in knowing he's special like that.
I imagine even if Hater never admits it, Hater will always cherish that about Peepers, and to think Hater maybe kept Peepers around all this time bc Peeper was the first person to truly like him...? Yeah. yeah. And maybe that's why he believed a little watchdog when that said he could get the WHOLE UNIVERSE to like Hater too? yeahyeahyeah
And yeah.... evilly, but still!!! Peepers is special in that regard.
And as I imagine that's a big place of pride, I also see it as a place of anxiety for Peepers. Peepers is nothing without Hater, at least nothing remarkable. And Peepers seems to have a fear of being replaced/losing Hater. Because sure, Peepers was the FIRST to see Hater as the greatest, but it could have been anyone else in the universe in his place. Peepers was just lucky enough to get the opportunity to be the first. He feels lucky every single day.
And that's why Wander is such a threat.
Not just to evil schemes-- that one's obvious, but to Peepers' very significance.
Hater is his everything, in both an emotional and literal sense. Without Hater, he's nothing, just another insignificant, forgettable, teeny tiny watchdog in a sea of eyes that only look down on him. But with Hater he's big and he's strong and he's everything he's ever dreamt of, others finally take him seriously and others actually look UP to him and...
...and Wander is a better friend, a better mentor, a better companion, and can love Hater in nearly the same way: authentically. That probably scares the bajeebus out of Peepers. It's one thing to lose the empire, heck even his job, but to lose Hater?
I imagine Hater and Peepers, though at first glance one sided, have this two-way street to their relationship: they don't entirely see each other as a person, instead they see each other as a part of themselves. A piece that is deep down truly scared, angry at the universe, ambitious... worthless. Yearning to be loved because it's so hard to love yourself and wanting to be someone's everything because you are utterly nothing. "Who would ever love a loser like me" meets "Who wouldn't". And a super genius stays silent so his very first fan can feel big and mighty for being smarter than the greatest in the galaxy.
I think something that I am particularly empathetic towards is that they both embody common insecurities within boyhood/manhood. Wanting to be the "cool guy" and "popular" because loving yourself is really hard. Fitting in is hard, "friends" are hard, dating is hard, girls are confusing, and boys are scary, and society too often labels being authentic as "uncool" so there's a lot of posturing or acting like a jerk to compensate for lack of confidence.
Or the insecurities guys too often face of not being strong enough, big enough, tall enough, manly enough, not being taken seriously enough by peers. "If only I was bigger, taller, cooler..." It's all rubbish and what really matters is who you are on the inside. Sylvia learned that, and Peepers has yet to learn that.
Lastly, I really do think Peepers pours all the love he can muster into Hater. That includes self-love. Because Lord Hater is everything Peepers wishes he was and isn't, so how could he NOT love that? That in turn does make Peepers a bit possessive and dismissive of Hater's feelings. Good fuel for aus that explore character development.....
(I'd also like to think, since Hater was weak to lil bits' googoo eyes, that Hater has a soft spot for cute things... and Peepers is pretty cute. Perhaps consider turning a weakness into a strength there, ey Peepers?)
#death glare#deathglare#woy#commander peepers#lord hater#long text#emoBOY J U N C T I ON#YEAAAAAAAAAAAh#text#anon#big rambles ahead#i lob them
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GOOD MORNING, BEAUTIFUL RID. it’s 07:47 here. thank you for another masterpiece.
Jungkook is one to walk through the world carelessly, a free spirit. Living life as it comes. At least that’s the picture you’ve painted of him in your head. And to know that he, too, feels insecure about his own work sometimes drenches him in something… authentic.
this is like a quote from a poetry book i read 🥺
“I’m not afraid to take you right here.”
sir-
“And both of us slid down the damn ramp like a skateboard.”
JSNDNDNAJFNA PLEASE!!!!!!
Jungkook can’t fight the laugh that his suggestion calls forth, and he covers it with a shirtsleeve covered hand; his eyes little moons.
🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲
[…] Nara…
stfu
“You looked like you were in a better mood afterwards, though,” Yoongi insists, adding more chaos to the madness.
🥹
Peculiar how his words flood you with motivation you haven’t felt before; hope and optimism you want to hold onto.
aah this one is gonna hurt-
That’s the last sentence on the page – it reminds him of you.
YOU BETTER STOP
“I can concentrate a lot better with you around.”
🤣🤣😭😭😭😭😭😭
“For when I get into an actual relationship.”
my heart broke at that bit of jungkook comparing their lives ):
Who knows what they will print and write into their journals and news? He’s way out of your league anyway – or at least that’s what everyone will say once this picture is printed. Not least of all because of the clear difference between your reputations: yours is enormous – and his non-existent.
STOP 😭😭😭😭😭😭
“But I’m here willingly,” he whispers, “I like being with you.”
AAAAAAAAH
“if I’m somewhat okay, little angel… may I kiss you then?”
YES PLEASE GO AHEAD ANDMEKRIEKAMD
“I can’t fuck you stupid if you pass out on me already.”
🐕🐕🐕🐕🐕
“Why are you holding back?” he asks, the smile cocky and lustful; nothing new. “Don’t you think everyone in this house already knows?” He pushes his fingers in harder, rubbing against the rough patch inside you. “That I fuck any logic out of you all the damn time?”
you’re so good at smut and fluff and angst i can’t!!!!
He wraps his fingers around your messy bun and tugs just lightly, pulling your head back.
🐕🐕🐕🐕
“But,” he interrupts, nearly hissing, “you can’t always get what you want, though, can you?”
🥵 but then
“No,” he whispers, his hand leaving your hair to grip your jaw, “no. Let me just please you today, yeah?”
😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, his voice husky and quiet, kind of intimidating… but still fond somehow. “We’re not done yet.”
JESUS CHRIST
Devours your sounds, watches logic and thinking abilities slip out of your head entirely. The curve of his shaft reaches every sensitive spot inside you, rubs desperately.
oh dear lord
The nickname, usually an irritating term, launches you up and above the clouds; suddenly endearing… maybe even sweet.
oh no-
His lips skim the apple of your cheek… up to your temple; place a kiss on one of your eyebrows with closed eyes.
🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋
And Jungkook’s heart falls – down and deep into a pit.
EXCUSE ME RID I LOVE YOU BUT WHY?
WAAAAAHHHH PAULEEEEYYYYYY I DON'T DESERVE U !!!!!! u know i absolutely love how u point out most of the things i want pointed out while writing, like u're so 😭 <33
okay, this poetry quote ?! u need to share !! and not the stfu at nara's mention omg 😭 and oh. yeah. if that makes u think this one's gonna hurt, then have fun reading the future parts cos..... 😮💨 BUT PLEASE, the 'for when i get into an actual relationship' hurt me sO BAD, TOO !!!
jk comparing his life to oc's.... i know, it really drags him down, but my boy stays strong for her and never says anything :(((( he deserves the best *sniff*
losing it at the cat emojis 🤣 and the 🦋🦋 are real, too goshhhhh </3 ALSO HAHAHAH I'M SO SORRY I KNOW THE ENDING IS MEAN, but i promise things are gonna make sense and work out <3 thank u so much as always, this put such a big smile on my face 😭 i love u fr 😭
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Scalding Sands Al’ab Nariya | A Firelit Sky over the Sands Books: 1 & 2
Book 1: A Sudden Vacation
Al’ab Nariya
ALL OF BOTH OF Y’ALLS STUFF
IN ONE DUFFLE BAG?
Couldn’t be me, I’ve got my suitcase and carry on aka purse
…Do y’all just not have phones
Or an app for the school
Why are we the messengers
And as the messengers why didn’t we just text them
Grim, although he is from this world (there is something up with this i swear), doesn’t know much about Twisted Wonderland
Okay.
Sit This One Out & Good Omen
OH NO!
NOW YOU’VE DONE IT JAMIL
YOU’VE UPSET MY BROTHER
LET HIM GO, JAMIL
LET HIM GOOOOO
[Car meme]
(Can y’all tell that this my new favorite reaction)
Cater is on the scent when it comes to Lilia
My Battery’s at 100% & Gonna Have a Blast
Hey-hey! It’s Cay-cay!
Trey!
Oh my god he came for the food
He’s just like Grim fr
You better show him so hole-in-the-wall places, Jamil
Yep, there it is
Hey Malleus
Yeah kinda fucked that you have a prince as a guest and you didn’t even know it
Whoops
OH NO
DID HE COOK?
LILIA
LILIA NO
YOU KNOW YOU CAN’T COOK
AND NOW LOOK
LOOK
YOU HAVE A TUMMY ACHE
[Yelling in car meme]
Uh…is he controlling (loosely) the weather with his emotions?
“And if there’s any trouble during your vacation, I want absolutely nothing to do with it!”
Crowley, you are literally my legal guardian.
Book 2: Festival Preparation
Born and Raised & Ages Ago
Me, imagining the group in not-the-school-uniform
…
Chile lemme just drink some water
GRIM NOOOO
GRIM
YOU SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO TREY GRIM
NOW LOOK
LOOK AT YOURSELF
YOU’RE DROWNING GRIM
YOU’RE BLUB BLUB BLUGH
[Yellign me]
(Bro If I could edit, I would edit the car underwater)
Oh no baby y’all got outdated textbooks
I’mma be real
I blanked out
A Theme Park Castle & My First Time & I’ve Got an Umbrella!
Moving on
What?
I AIN’T WALKING THAT FAR SWEETHEART
Ay Ay we ina limo!
Omg Cater being so smart and not posting immediately
We love a person who protects others
Is the man even breathing
Mind-Boggling
Sweetheart, we gon need some new clothes
BECAUSE IF MY HAIR SWEATS OUT I SWEAR
It would anyway tbr
… I hope we’re getting out the car in this next one.
WAIT THE PEACOCK TAIL IS WATER
HOW’S IT DOING THAT
Its fine he’s Jesus he can walk on water
BUT YOU GOT IT ALL OVER JAMIL
JAMIL IM SORRY
Oooo the peacock tail lights up at night~
NOT AGAIN
Please excuse my little brother, y’all
KALIM NOOOOOO
A Private Park & Asim Palace
Oh we got lawn camels?
…wait what
Y’all just got animals roaming in the park?
Welp
NOT THE SECURITY FEEDS
What a fucken minute
And neither do I but actually, so come on, Trey.
Enlighten me.
Oh! The animals are in cages!
WAIT THEY’RE NOT
WE’VE BEEN WALKING??
What if I just got lost in here
What fuck, what if Grim got lost
WHAT
GRIM NO
YOU’RE PART CAT GRIM
ONIONS WILL KILL YOU
KILL YOU DEAD GRIM
[yelling]
“I’ve always thought they looked like turnips, myself”
Literal Trey an Grim are the same person
Just on different levels
Oh my god they’re still going
NOT MALLEUS JOINING IN
This Fit Is On Point & Yasamina Silk
Kalim, I need your permission to pick out a scarf for him, so I can tie it around his neck
Trey’s arms are average but my brain keeps saying pudgy
THEY DID MY MANS NAILS
I already knew about the make-up
BUT I WAS NOT FOCUSED ON THE NAILS
Speaking of which— I need to make a new set
NO ARMS FOR YOU
EVEN THE WRISTS ARE HIDDEN AWAY
Yeah…Imma need this SSR
WAIT
THAT’S WHY HE COULDN’T HAVE A NICE OUTFIT TOO
UGLY
Grim, I am your sister
WAIT
GOLD STAR
YOU GUESS
I AM A RAINBOW HOLOGRAPHIC STICKER
THANK YOU VERY MUCH
Way Too Into This & A Cute Reason
Oh wow you walk into a ballroom
THE NEWEST WHAT
OVER WHAT
Oh that sounds
Wait wait wait
The whole burger?
Nevermind, now it's a texture thing
And that's that on that!
We’ll be sightseeing in the next one!
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What they’re like as boyfriends;
Characters; Seishu ‘Inupi’ Inui, Hajime Kokonoi.
Warnings; a bit angsty.
Seishu ‘Inupi’ Inui;
Don’t you dare hurt this man’s feelings. I’ll be coming for ur neck.
You better treat him right, because he would go to the ends of the world for you.
He doesn’t want to lose another person in his life so he’ll always show you how much he values you and how much you mean to him.
It can be hard for him to find the right words sometime, that doesn’t stop him from showing you little acts of service and physical affection to make you feel loved.
Wants you to feel comfortable around him, at all times.
Is in general a very considerate person, but especially when it comes to your feelings. So you will never witness him trying to down play your emotions.
He is in touch with his feminine side and holds absolutely no place for toxic masculinity in his life.
I fr want his fashion advise.
Would never judge you for anything. Especially not for your body. He loves your body.
Beats up everyone who dares to talk bad about you. Can’t stand people who only have the courage to talk shit about you someone behind their back.
Loves laying on your chest. He says it’s more comfortable than a pillow, but actually just listens to your heart beat.
If you two were together while he was still in black dragons, he’d make you be besties with Koko.
Koko’s approval of your relationship is important to him. They’ve been there for each other for a very long time now an he really wants Koko to like you and you two actually get a long great.
After Tenjiku arc he’d have some kind of complex about you thinking of him as something/ someone he isn’t is.
Doesn’t want you to leave like Koko did. He isn’t Akane, you have to assure him you know that. You also don’t expect him to be, which takes time for him to understand.
When a insecurity or a issue pops up he isn’t too shy to talk about it, that’s why problems in your relationship never last that long.
He’s very mature, but knows when to let loose and also be childish for once.
He’s such a cutie.
Hajime Kokonoi;
This man-
Treats you like a princess. Like u deserve.
Spoils you so bad. You’re literally swimming in designers bags and clothes.
Does not care how many times you decline his gifts, you will accept them. Period.
In the end you always give in anyways. I mean why wouldn’t you lmao.
Let’s you do his makeup and even goes out with it on if it looks good. The healthy masculinity is immaculately.
When you want to try out a new makeup look on him and it doesn’t end up the way you wanted it to, he’ll tease you a bit, but would encourage you to try again and again until you get it.
He’s very patient, so just take your time and don’t stress. He knows you can do it.
Always believes in you and supports you. Is your personal cheerleader.
You know how Aang looks at Katara? Yeah that’s how he looks at you.
After Akane it was hard for him to fall in love again.
When you to met it took him a lot of thinking and time. But he did it, he moved on from her.
Don’t get me wrong she will always hold a special place in his heart as his first love, now nothing more or less.
Sometimes tho, in the itsy bitsiest moments you remind him of her. Even if it’s just for a second, he’ll feel so bad.
After sometime he’ll find the courage to talk to you about it. You’ll literally have to beat it out of him. When he admits it you just look at him as if he’s dumb, ‘they’re just intrusive thoughts, it’s not your fault. It’s okay.’
And since he moved on it’s most likely that you only got together later on, where he was already part of the Kanto Manji gang.
Meeting Mikey and the rest of the gang was an experience for sure. Even more so if it was after the fight of the three deities. Sometimes you question if he’s in a relationship with you or them, considering how much time he spends with them.
a/n; is it obvious that inupi is one of my favs lmao? Anyways I had a lot of fun writing this and thank you for reading.
#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev headcanons#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo rev fluff#tokyo revengers seishu inui#inui x reader#inui x y/n#tokrev inui#inui imagines#inui seishu#kokonoi hcs#tokyo revengers kokonoi#kokonoi hajime#kokonoi x you#kokonoi headcanons#dating headcanons
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perfect pitch | ksj
⁕ summary; your stand partner this year is, to put it simply, insufferable. with a rare sense of perfect pitch and a stunning face to boot, this boy's ego is absolutely off the charts... but you'd be lying if you said you didn't care about him anyway.
⁕ pairing; seokjin x reader
⁕ rating; pg-13
⁕ words; 3.9k
⁕ genre; crack, fluff - stand partners idiots to lovers (with a lil bit of enemies in there), high school au, orchestra au
⁕ warnings; swearing, threats but like nothing violent happens LOL, seokjin's sense of humor: there's like one mildly inappropriate joke (i'm sorry bach), super cliche rain scene i apologize
⁕ notes; this is based off of infuriatingly true events in my life because people with perfect pitch just LOVE flexing it like i'll drop my fork on the table and my friend's just like "oh wow that was a B flat" aaaaggghjsdjsdf anyways... i had a lot of fun writing this and i'm nearing the end of another longer fic i'm writing so please look forward to that :D hope you enjoy!!! + if you ever want me to tag you in my fics just let me know and i will <3 plus this is unedited and disgustingly cringy as it nears the end so read at your own risk
⁕ tags; @imdamconfused @sunghoonight-x @iminchaosnow
⁕ song; butter (bts)
masterlist
You’re teetering dangerously on the edge, a mere few seconds away from stabbing your stand partner in the eye with whatever you can use as a weapon.
“Hey, are you okay?” Seokjin cuts into your murderous thoughts, alarmed. “You look… truth be told, Y/N, you look like you want to kill someone.”
“If you don’t shut up about how flat my A is, that someone might just end up being you.”
“How romantic.”
Your bow slides off your violin with a cadence of squeaky notes. “Can you at least stop flirting with me while I’m trying to tune this thing?!”
He smiles, a bright, brilliant thing that shows off all his perfect teeth. You swallow, heart suddenly racing a thousand times faster; it’s no secret that Kim Seokjin is probably the biggest pain in the neck you’ve ever met, but it’s also true that he is insanely good-looking. And you’re not about to deny it.
“You like it, though.”
Well, shit.
“Not everyone’s head over heels in love with you,” you retort, trying desperately to throw him off your trail. You know what happens with popular kids like him; once it’s known that you have a soft spot for them, everyone pounces on you, bombarding you with questions and snide remarks and rumors.
Of course, it’s complicated — because how on earth could you want to rip off someone’s head and kiss them at the same time?
But you tell yourself that it’s only because he looks like that; not because he easily gets you to laugh like it’s nobody’s business, and certainly not because he looks out for you in the littlest ways; leaving his rosin out on the stand for you to use and lending you a pencil when you need one.
Kim Seokjin is an insufferable little shit, yes. But he’s a friendly insufferable little shit. And you would honestly be so down to hang out with him and get to know him better, save for one little thing that’s been getting in your way.
His perfect fucking pitch.
Being stand partners with someone naturally gifted with such a sense is both a blessing and a curse. Countless times, Seokjin has saved your ass from being questioned by Mrs. Choi by letting you know silently that you’re a little too sharp, or playing in the wrong key entirely. (That last one has happened before.) Sometimes you can’t hear Namjoon, the principal violinist, too well from where you’re seated, so you’ve relied on Seokjin on many occasions to tune your strings correctly.
However, it irks you equally as much when he uses it against you, stopping you mid-piece to let you know that your C# sounds more like a D to him. No one’s perfect, and certainly not you — but you try, and to be shot down every single time by someone who thinks it’s absolutely funny to watch you repeatedly attempt to fix your pitch issues is purely exhausting.
“Hey, Y/N—”
“What?” you demand, sighing as you turn to him.
“Wanna hear a joke?”
“No—”
“Why did Bach have twenty children?”
Your eyes widen in horror. “Oh my god—”
He continues anyway, ignoring your plea with that mischievous grin, “Because he had no organ stops!”
Seokjin is trying his best not to laugh at his own joke, shoulders shaking at the punch line. You can’t help it yourself, a giggle bursting out of your own chest as you cover your mouth.
“That was horrendous,” you tell him once you catch your breath again. “Absolutely terrible.”
“Oh, worry not,” he proclaims, smiling widely, “I can do far better.”
“Wait, no—”
“What tone does a piano falling down a mineshaft make?”
You furrow your brows, thinking. “I don’t know,” you shake your head after a few seconds. “What is it?”
“A flat minor.”
Your jaw drops open as you process it, and Seokjin just watches you in amusement. “You should be banned from making these kinds of jokes,” you tell him. “Seriously.”
“Admit it, I’m hilarious,” he counters. “I made you laugh, didn’t I?”
He did, you’ve got to acknowledge. He always does, in some way, now that you think about it. Whenever you end up coming to rehearsal in a bad mood, it’s always because of Seokjin that you leave the auditorium with a smile on your face.
The realization startles you like nothing else — you hadn’t known before that he played such a role in your daily life.
“Oh, I nearly forgot,” he starts again, “We have a concert tonight.”
“Yeah…” You turn to him, eyebrow raised. “You forgot about the biggest performance of the year?”
Seokjin nods, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. “Yeah. My bad. You’re coming, right?”
“Duh,” you reply, fishing a block of rosin out of your case. “It’s almost half of my grade; no way I can skip. Besides, I like performing.”
“You do?”
“What are you so surprised for?” you ask him playfully. “I do enjoy it. I might not be good — not as good as you — but I like it. I like playing together with everyone, being able to hear every other part fit in with mine perfectly.” You frown. “Now if you asked me to play solo, I wouldn’t do it for anything in the world. Ensemble performances are far better.”
“You’re good,” Seokjin says quietly, looking at you — it’s like he’s taking you in, letting his eyes linger on you for a little while longer. “Don’t think that you’re not. You sound nice, Y/N.”
You hold his gaze for several breathless seconds before scoffing, turning away. “Don’t lie.”
“I’m not!”
“I don’t need empty compliments fr—”
Your bickering is cut short by Mrs. Choi walking onstage, a stack of sheet music in her hand which is promptly handed to Namjoon for him to distribute to the entire orchestra. You don’t offer your usual smile when he gives you two, and it’s with an impassive expression that you hand the extra to your stand partner.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Maybe you’ve made it more awkward between you two — but what else could have happened? Had you been hoping he’d magically fall in love with you and kiss you and you would have gone on dates?
No, of course not. This is Kim Seokjin you’re talking about; and besides, no matter how much you manage to soften up to him one moment, he’ll immediately make you want to murder him the next.
“Hey, Y/N… um — your D is just, you know, a little bit sharp—”
“Kim Seokjin, I’ll fucking kill you!”
“You, my dear, are just overcomplicating this for yourself,” Taehyung declares after listening to you rant about your problematic stand partner over lunch. “What’s the issue? You like him — don’t you shake your head at me, Y/N, you’re as obvious as an open book — and he clearly likes you. Why don’t you just date him?”
“It’s not that simple,” you grumble, brutally stabbing another piece of chicken. “I can’t just walk up to him and ask him out, Tae. Plus, he doesn’t like me, he just likes flirting with everyone he lays his eyes on.”
“From what you’re telling me, it sure does sound like it.”
“Taehyung…”
“Come on, you can’t possibly be that clueless, Y/N.”
“No,” you insist. “He’s a pain in the ass, and he enjoys getting a rise out of me, and he flexes that dumb pitch power of his whenever he can.”
“But you like him...”
“You’re not helping!”
This is where Jimin decides to intervene, tired of your back and forth arguing. “She has a point, Tae. But,” he says to you. “He’s also right. You need to take some kind of action.”
“Yeah, but what?”
Taehyung claps his hands, a telltale sign of a new idea. “Flirt back!”
“Okay, absolutely not—”
Jimin grabs you suddenly, shaking your shoulders. “Wait, think about it!” he exclaims, eyes wide. “It can work! That way you can see if he actually does like you, and you won’t publicly embarrass yourself by confessing to him, either!”
“On second thought, I’d have preferred to see the public embarrassment—”
“Shut up, Tae, you’re just making her feel worse!”
That makes you laugh; contrary to Jimin’s statement, your best friends certainly have succeeded in making you feel just a little bit better.
“Don’t worry, the feeling’s mutual,” you tease. “Maybe I owe him a dose, actually, because I’ve seen firsthand a particularly painful confession back in n—”
“Y/N! Don’t you dare bring that up!”
Amidst the chaos of Taehyung screeching while trying to attack you with a spoon and Jimin holding him back, someone taps on your shoulder lightly; a momentary distraction from this madness, if you will.
“Oh. You,” you respond when greeted with the gently smiling face of Kim Seokjin. “Did you need anything?”
“Nah,” he shrugs, instead showing you his closed fist. “Wanted to give you something.”
“If it’s another one of my strings that you’ve borrowed and also broken, then you can keep it, thanks.”
Seokjin shakes his head, chuckling. “Not that, Y/N. I always throw out the strings I break; don’t worry. I just thought you should have this.”
With that, he places a small wooden box on your lunch bag — at a closer look, you realize it’s a block of rosin. Brand new, too, by the looks of it — when you take off the bright blue lid, there are no scratches on the surface, no sign of wear and tear.
“For me?” You look at him, surprised to be met with a rather fond gaze you’re not used to. “Why?”
“Noticed the one you had was basically falling apart,” he says nonchalantly, attempting to mask the slight tremble in his voice and the blush on his cheeks. “I mean, come on — how are you gonna keep your bow in good shape with those tiny chunks of this stuff?”
“Oh,” is all you can reply, staring at the gleaming black cube in your hand. “I — thanks, I guess.”
“No problem.” He’s back to his bright, grinning self again, all self-confidence and smug smiles. “See you tomorrow,” he tells you, before waving to your friends. “Have a nice lunch, guys.”
It takes Jimin and Taehyung precisely fourteen seconds after Seokjin leaves for his own table to lose their shit.
“Was he looking out for you?”
“Did he actually just give you a new block of rosin?!”
“And you still don’t wanna date this guy?”
“You guys are violinists! Gifting each other supplies is basically your love language!”
You fidget with the rosin, smoothing your thumb over the lid. “No, that’s just how he is,” you defend. “He always lends me rosin when I need it.”
“And you always lend him extra strings,” Taehyung says, a teasing smile on his face. They’re kind of right, you realize when you think about it. Never has Seokjin actually given you a block to keep, and though you might be overestimating the significance of the gesture, it makes your heart flutter nonetheless.
“Okay, anyways,” Jimin changes the topic, “How are we feeling about tonight’s concert?”
“I think we’re in good shape,” you tell him. “We’ve got everything under control — Mrs. Choi was afraid the cellos would screw up their solo section, but they managed to pull it together today and they sounded great.”
“I’m afraid I can’t say the same,” Taehyung sighs. “Not when the tenors keep screwing up their long note—”
“That wasn’t me! That was Jeon Jungkook!”
“Yeah, sure—”
You groan, rolling your eyes. “Come on, we are not arguing about this right now. I’m sure you guys will sound fine, you always do. Plus, Jeon has a really sweet voice.”
“I guess so,” Taehyung shrugs. “But I think the highlight of tonight is going to be Y/N getting to see her guy all dressed up,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.
“No!” You exclaim a little too quickly, cheeks red. “Why would you say something like that?!”
“Because you’re whipped for him—”
“I am most certainly not—”
Jimin laughs out loud, almost toppling off of his chair. “You know, Y/N, we might have believed you if you weren’t redder than a fucking tomato right now—”
“PARK JIMIN! NOT YOU TOO!”
As luck would have it, you’re a solid ten minutes late.
Call time was at six o’clock, and here you are; slamming the car door shut as you wave a hasty goodbye to your father and run to the main entrance, all the while trying not to get drenched in the rain.
(Your folder and the music inside it are probably already soaked, but that’s an issue for another time.)
You hurry down the stairs, pushing the double doors open with a quick apology to Mrs. Choi, who gives you a stern look but says nothing else. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding as you slide into your seat, already unlatching your case.
“You’re late.”
You twist your neck to give your stand partner a blank stare. “I’m aware.”
“You look really nice,” he blurts out next, blinking faster than usual.
“Thanks?” You try and laugh it off, fastening your shoulder rest to the back of your violin. You’re not wearing anything fancy, just a flowy black dress with your hair tied back, but his remark renders you speechless for a split second “So do you.”
You manage to compliment him nonchalantly, but your heart is beating twice as fast, eyes admiring his parted, fluffy hair, the white dress shirt impeccable on his figure. And his lips…
Shit. You really are down bad, but you don’t have time to dwell on it — Mrs. Choi is starting the last piece already, and you’re scrambling to have your instrument ready by the time the first violins start with their little intro.
Seokjin laughs at you quietly, but inhales sharply when you start to rosin your bow hair. “You kept it,” he says softly, nodding at the block in your hands.
“Yeah,” you swallow, suddenly self-conscious. “I did.”
“Didn’t think you would.”
“I’m not that ungrateful,” you wrinkle your nose at him. “Of course I kept it, Seokjin.”
“Jin.”
“Huh?”
“Jin,” he repeats, flicking a strand of chestnut hair away from his eyes. “That’s what my friends call me.”
“Since when am I your friend?”
“Would you rather not be?”
“Would you rather be?”
Seokjin — Jin, rather — frowns down at you. “Stop asking questions to my questions!”
“You did it first!” you exclaim, laughing. “Hypocrite! Answer mine, then!”
He looks at you for a long moment, like he’s taking his sweet time choosing the right words to say to you. “Since now,” he decides finally, firmly. “You are now. I want you to be mine. My friend,” he clarifies, turning deep red as he says it.
“I thought you hated me,” you muse. “And I was pretty sure you thought I was the lamest kid ever because I couldn’t play a single thing right.”
“Of course not,” Jin shakes his head vehemently. “You’re cool, Y/N. A little tone deaf, but cool.”
“Take that back!”
“I’m sorry, it’s the truth,” he laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners.
You send him your best glare, but contrary to your facial expression, it’s nice to laugh with him like this. You’ve been so caught up with telling yourself that you shouldn’t be feeling anything but annoyance when you’re around him that you ignored your blossoming feelings, and now they’ve fully bloomed, leaving no room for that initial irritation you so often experienced.
Friends. It’s not what you most want, but it’s something. You could get used to that.
The concert goes smoothly, and the choir performances were absolutely delightful to watch — but your father is late, again, which means you’re stuck waiting for him out in the rain that hasn’t let up for hours.
You’re about to call him for the fifth time in ten minutes when you hear a set of heavy footsteps behind you, running up the stairway. “Y/N!”
“Jin?” you ask, surprised by the boy making his way toward you, brown hair completely soaked. “What are you doing out here?”
“I lied,” he says breathlessly, like he’s in a rush, and if he doesn’t tell you now, he might never be able to. “I’m sorry, I — I lied, Y/N. I don’t want you to be my friend — God, I don’t think I could live with that. I want you to be more.”
“Jin—”
“I just,” he exhales forcefully, “I want to be able to take you out and hold your hand and hug you and kiss you—”
When your mind finally clears up, you don’t let him finish his sentence, instead grabbing his collar and yanking him down so you can press your lips to his in one swift motion. A quiet gasp leaves his mouth, but he quickly adjusts to the situation, hands dropping his violin so he can gently cradle your face, teeth tugging at your bottom lip. It’s all happening so fast that you barely even have time to think, to properly take it all in.
His lips are cold due to the nasty weather, and you’re both sopping wet — and this is most definitely the worst setting for this to have happened, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“That,” Jin breathes when you finally let him go, pupils dilated, “that was—”
“My first,” you finish. Your prior courage all gone, you’re a bit nervous now, too embarrassed by your bold move to even meet his eyes. What were you thinking? “I-I’m sorry...”
“Sorry?” Jin asks, confused. “Why are you sorry?”
“You know, because… of that.” You can barely speak up, cheeks burning. “I-I don’t know why I did that. Is this — is this a prank or something? Did you plan this? Was I just supposed to laugh it off and threaten to take your eye out with my bow instead?”
“No, no, no,” he shakes his head, laughing. “Can’t you tell, Y/N?” He lowers his voice to a gentle whisper. “I like you, you idiot. Ever since you waltzed into the auditorium sophomore year and nearly broke your violin falling down the stairs, I never stopped thinking about you.”
“You… you like me?” you ask incredulously, jabbing an accusatory finger at his chest. “Like, for real? You’re not just pulling my leg like you usually love to do?”
“I meant what I said, Y/N,” he tells you softly, fingers intertwined with yours. His voice is genuine, soothing. “I want to do all those things with you, if you’ll let me.”
It takes you a while to reply, but when you do, your heart is pounding so loudly in your chest that you can barely hear yourself. “A-And if I said yes?”
A wide grin breaks out onto Jin’s face as he pulls you into a hug, both your instruments forgotten on the pavement and your head resting on his chest as he holds you close. A few days ago, you would have thought yourself a fool for even thinking that a day like this would ever come; yet here you are, all those daydreams come true.
It’s all so new to you, and you’ll most likely screw up along the way — multiple times. But hand in hand with Jin and his vexing ability to pick out a B from a B flat, things aren’t looking so bad.
You’ll work it out.
Hanging out with your friends is always a chaotic (but fun) occurrence — but when you add your boyfriend’s buddies into the mix, it all goes down to shit.
Actually, it’s all his fault, if you really think about it. Why on earth did he think challenging Taehyung to a baking competition was even remotely close to being a good idea?
“That’s so not fucking fair!” the aforementioned best friend cries, angrily shaking a spatula at a playfully grinning Jung Hoseok. “You can’t just hide the bag of flour! I fucking forgot to put it in!”
“Nothing we can do about it now, Tae,” Jimin sighs, massaging his forehead as the three of you stare at the burnt, soupy mass your team has created. “We fucking lost, that’s it.”
“So,” Jin smirks mischievously, nudging your elbow. “I guess Hoseok and I win this one, yeah?”
“Shut up,” you shove him back, though you’re grinning; a plate with a slice of his impeccably made cake in your hands and a fork lifted to your lips. “You’re good at this and you know it. I knew from the start that you were just trying to fuck around with Tae.”
Taehyung scoffs. “Your evil, demonic, deceptive, satanic boyfriend—”
“Nice vocabulary,” Hoseok comments without looking up, and you’re sure he’s on your best friend’s hit list at this point.
“Well — anyways, he’s out to get me,” Taehyung continues, frowning. “I feel attacked.”
“Yeah, okay, keep saying that several years from now when you’re sitting in a church and Y/N’s walking down the aisle,” Jimin says nonchalantly, causing you to choke on your cake in complete shock.
“What the heck — we’re literally eighteen! You can’t — you can’t just say things like that!” you exclaim indignantly, fork clattering against your empty plate. Jin grins widely all of a sudden, tapping your shoulder all of a sudden.
“Jagi.”
“Hmm?” You turn to him, momentarily forgetting how flustered Jimin’s comment made you feel.
“That was a really nice C# just now…”
Your mouth drops open as you gape at your boyfriend; part of you wants to cry and part of you wants to laugh. You knew when you agreed to make it official that somewhere along the line, you’d have to deal with these kinds of things, but now that it’s actually happening…
You turn to Jimin, patience already running thin from Jin’s antics (actually, you secretly love it, though you’ll never admit it to his face.)
“And you have the audacity to suggest that I’ll actually get married to this man?”
“Y/N? Honey, wake up. I… I just realized something.”
“Oh — Jin? What is it? Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s good. You know, I was thinking about it, and I realized that...” Your husband bites down on his lip hesitantly, glancing down at the baby sleeping peacefully in his arms.
“Yeah?” you press, curious.
“When Aera cries — you know, when she’s screaming at the top of her lungs,” he smiles fondly. “It’s always — she always cries in either F# or C#. It’s,” he looks like he’s nearing tears, “the D major key. Y/N, she literally cries in D major. I’m—”
You sigh, smiling amusedly to yourself as you snuggle up to him for extra warmth, holding your baby close. Leave it to none other than Kim Seokjin to analyze his daughter’s pitch — isn’t that part of the reason why you fell in love with him, anyway?
Life with Jin is many things — a chaotic mess that includes the constantly screaming light of your lives, three pandemoniac best friends, and far too many notes for you to keep track of. And though sometimes you want to chuck a blue-lidded block of rosin at his head to shut him up, you’re more than ready for it all.
— feedback/questions/just wanna chat?
thank you for reading perfect pitch! ♡
#applejinie#seokjin x reader#seokjin fluff#seokjin one shot#jin x reader#jin fluff#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts one shot#rainguk#jin high school au#bts high school au#bts orchestra au#violinist!jin
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The Sorcerer pt. 3
Corpse Husband x gn!reader
Reincarnation AU | Summary :
The same candle lights up on Corpse’s desk every time you are reborn and turn 23. He has been looking for you during centuries but this time you might be closer than anticipated. {Playlist}
𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝟯 : 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚
An eagerness for a special sense of belonging brings you to a lot of unexplored roads.
☾ Words : 6159.
☾ Warnings : swearing
Masterlist | Previous | Next
George has barely spoken a word since he started diving into the golden pages of the book Dream brought home. He doesn’t even notice his presence by his side, too absorbed by the perfect calligraphy inked on the paper, curled up on the rocking chair which swings back and forth at a tireless pace.
Dream leans toward his familiar, slowly unfolding his arm so his fingers could get closer to George’s one. His long fingers are curled around the book and it feels as though the contact would be enough to make sure George is okay.
Dream leans toward his familiar, slowly unfolding his arm so his fingers could get closer to George’s one. His long fingers are curled around the book and it feels as though the contact would be enough to make sure George is okay.
When George exhales deeply and rapidly leafs through the golden paper one last time before closing the book, Dream flinches and sits up while clearing his throat.
“You said it was supposed to help y/n but I’m afraid to ask how,” he says as he lifts his head while shaking it in confusion. “I feel like a voyeur after reading all of … this.”
“You don’t have to ask,” Dream mumbles, hoping that it would be enough for George to brush the matter away.
“I have another question that needs an honest answer.”
Dream hums. He hates the way George is looking at him, as if the wrong question was about to come out of his mouth.
“Did you get that book or did you steal it?”
Yeah, wrong fucking question.
“The book contains too much crucial information it to be given to anyone. Even I can feel that," George pushes and he’s so right Dream can’t bring himself to lie, only cover sugarcoat the truth as much as he can.
“It’s ours. I didn’t steal it, I took it back,” he mutters and George sighs exasperatedly.
“So you got us into trouble,” he concludes.
Dream’s lips part but the words get lost in George’s incriminating eyes. He reaches for his hand and grabs it, one last attempt to reassure him as much as he can.
“It’s okay,” Dream finally breathes. “I’ll make sure everything is okay, you don’t have to worry about that.”
“You better because if this goes wrong a human will get involved.”
Sitting in your car in an empty parking lot, you find yourself staring at the object you just bought with a puzzled expression while taking another bite of your bagel. The clueless item, which sits so perfectly still on the passenger seat, seems to be setting a silence you’re not sure how to handle. It’s an awkwardly clear stone in a conical shape attached to a chain reflecting the rays of the sun into iridescent light that spreads above your head and turns the grayish ceiling of the car into something vivid. You take another bite of your food, the only excuse you found to break eye contact for a second, hoping that it would ease the tension that has been growing since you started feeling like the object observed you as much as you observed him. In a long exhale, you end up covering it with your jacket.
You’re not even sure why you bought the pendulum in the first place. Probably a mind busy with a sense of curiosity and the remains of eerie stories you’ve been narrating all morning that still creeped upon you, leaving you feeling a lot more mystic than usual. You just stopped to describe that cryptic looking shop and your steps were leading you inside before you could realize it, the door tinkling as you pushed it open.
The shelves were brimming with crystals and herbs and things you couldn’t identify. From potion ingredients to candles and incense, it looked like the perfect witch den and you hated that it felt so close to home even though it could never be. It was a strange feeling; a sense of belonging as illegitimate as helpless.
Maybe that’s why you wandered around as you did, sight getting filled with questions and a hint of confusion as you analyzed every display meticulously. As if learning more about their world could give you the illusion of being an active part of it. What an irony to hate something you’re so irremediably drawn to.
When you met the object, your attention stopped and you described it with a careful eye. The owner found her way to you; a young lady with faded purple hair and winged liner that made her eyes look like cat’s eyes. She spoke in a funny accent that left you wondering where it could come from. There was something about it -or her- that felt so peculiarly familiar,
“This is a fascinating pendulum, isn’t it?” The woman said, more of a statement than it was a real question. You brushed the impression away and gently smiled at her, not sure what to answer nor even what a pendulum was.
The lady opened the glass cabinet. The chain intertwined with her long fingers and the thing looked more like a jewel when held so delicately and dangling as it was. It swung from back and forth, movements perfectly calibrated. It was inquisitive, a little mesmerizing and, before you knew it, you both were standing on each side of the counter and the lady carefully covered the pendulum with tissue paper.
The way her hair fell behind her ears, the constant smile that was tattooed on her lips, the way the paper crinkled under her fingers, it all grew together to create this one and so lucid déjà vu. The presence felt so intimate, leaving an odd and indelible aftertastes in your throat.
“I’m sorry but haven’t we met before?” You dared to ask as your mind pressured you to.
“Maybe we have,” she simply answered with a soft smile, eyes still locked on the wrapped pendulum. What a weird way to answer a simple question, neither a validation nor a denial.
“I feel like I know you,” you insisted, narrowing your eyes as if you knew there was something more, something that would make everything make sense.
She didn’t say a word, only handed you the small bag she just packed while leading you toward the exit with a hand on your lower back. It wasn’t pressuring but it was firm, an obvious invitation to leave. Maybe you were just being too annoying with the matter and she wouldn’t have been the first one to think so.
“Take care of the pendulum. It’s very special,” she demanded and, just like that, she closed the door of the shop behind you and flipped the card from “open” to “closed”.
You stood puzzled on the pavement for a minute, not too sure how to feel about all of this. Everyday keeps getting weirder and weirder.
The whole experience was odd, really, and maybe that’s why the purchase feels a little wrong, a little off. Like something that was never meant to happen in the first place.
Now, you place an index and a middle finger around the chain. The pendulum dangles, untamed movements that send vibrations against your skin. Your eyes are trying to focus on the stone, to forget about the people walking down the street you still see in your peripheral vision but, as much as you wish for something magical to happen, it’s nothing but a stone that sways aimlessly in the air. You scoff, it just makes the whole thing even more ridiculous. So, you intuitively take a picture of the thing and send it to Corpse before placing it back on the passenger seat.
[Look what I bought,] you type before clicking on the send button.
[Nice pendulum, didn’t know you were interested in that kind of stuff,] Corpse responds
[Me neither but it’s pretty cool, right? I don’t know how to use it though.]
[Why would you buy a pendulum if you don’t know how to use one?]
Thank you Mr Sorcerer, good talk, you mouth with a fake smile that, realistically, looks more like a wince. He always has a way to make you feel so stupid. You don’t feel like responding, too annoyed to give him the credit of asking an interesting question. Yet, your fingers are telling another story.
[Do you wanna teach me, maybe?]
You twist the key inside the ignition. Is this conversation even of any use? It feels like rhetoric at this point; you already know he won’t answer such a question. Yet the phone lights up in your palms before you’re able to put it out of sight. A two letter response that makes you regret hoping he would answer in the first place.
[No.]
There’s this deep exhale as you rub the exasperation out of your face. Why does he always have to be so ungracious? As if bitterness was the only thing he had left. In the end, this is nothing but a reminder that it’s just your friendship with Corpse in a nutshell; shallow and endless exchanges of fuck yous and you toos and that’s just as deep as it can get. You’re stuck inside this infernal game of cat and mouse, looking for a way to approach the real Corpse without him flinching away. This really isn’t of any use. Why would you even try to crawl inside his mind in the first place?
You push the gas pedal, trying not to stare too long at the shop that gets further and further away through the rear-view because, soon enough, you’ll forget about that odd encounter, about that even odder attempt to feel like belonging in a world you could almost think you despise.
You find yourself thinking about Corpse’s harshness, about the expression he probably wears on a face you know nothing about. Can the coldness be seen on his expression every time he chooses the crudest answer? The city scrolls before your eyes and you don’t pay much attention to it. Does he always consider the options or does his mind automatically go to that place where you’re not allowed?
It feels like every response serves a purpose to draw a line you’re so tempted to cross. You sigh heavily. Leaning closer in the purpose of a touch that can never lead anywhere is one weary way to live a friendship. You’re stuck between the wish to get closer and the wish to let go, neither one of the two being a possible thing.
By the time you reach your apartment, it feels like you’re more confused than you usually are. It’s usually so easy to brush it off, to shrug and think that it’s just Corpse being Corpse. Not today, today you're trying to understand an existence that can’t be put into words.
Why can’t I let it go? It’s with that question that you spent the rest of the day answering emails and reading more gruesome stories and now lay restless on your bed. You press the cold pillow against your face as if it would’ve been enough to stifle the question that spreads in your mind like mold. Maybe, at the end of the day, it’s not that you don’t want to let Corpse go, but simply don’t know how to.
The light of the full moon is growing electric, shining so bright that you doubt even being able to sleep.
You fall asleep, eventually, and when you do, you get woken up by the irrepressible necessity to snatch what tickles your nose with an irritating vigor.
Huh?
Your vision gets clearer as you become aware of your surroundings; vastness of meadow and cottony clouds passing fast in a blue sky. Your body rolls on what feels like a picnic blanket under your touch. You sit up abruptly, meeting the eyes of the one who sits cross legged in front of you.
Dream?
Your lips part to talk but you find yourself unable to let a word escape your grip. The energy that emanates from Dream is familiar but this face is new. He never showed it. A secret he wasn’t ready to share before.
Quite the irony if you think too much about it; the man granted you a secret that probably could have ruined his life but has never been comfortable enough to show his face.
You describe his face; green eyes that show confidence, a good amount of pride and wrinkle under a rooted smile as dirty blond hair frame the whole living painting.
If it wasn’t for the feeling that agitated your heart, you would’ve believed to be in front of a complete stranger. Warmth agitated your heart. The leap of faith he took months ago reflects on the softness he never fails to perform. Warmth and relief to have the confirmation that, after all, Dream is still here.
You try to talk again but no breath dares to fall out of your mouth as relief gets caught in your knotted throat. You wish you could wrap your arms around him, you wish you could cry from worrying so much.
It’s with the same gentleness he radiates that he raises a kettle to pour steaming water in a tea cup that sits in front of you.
“Why aren’t you wearing your mask, Dream?” You say, head leaning on the side with a confusion that is starting to grow more and more intense.
“Do I really need to hide my face any longer?” He answers as he hands you a slice of fruit pie on a golden detailed plate. The wind gently ruffles his hair and you find yourself deep diving inside your own mind in search of an answer to a question that really is more rhetorical than anything.
The meadow is as endless as essentially peaceful but there’s something so bittersweet about it. Maybe it’s the silence that makes the wind’s whistle so clear and the lack of human contact even more obvious, maybe it’s Dream’s unexpected presence. In any case, there’s something about those stirring eyes that makes your mind wander near the ghost of a presentiment you’ve been willing to forget this whole time; am I dreaming?
“This place isn’t real, is it?” You ask and Dream’s eyes lower to his tea cup, only proof that he heard the question since he doesn’t acknowledge it verbally. The light gets softer as a cloud obscures the sun and you wonder; if you were to touch him right now, would you even be able to? It’s a tempting wish for a confirmation that Dream isn’t only a chimera, something that would’ve been meant to ease a bit of disorientation.
“It is real but-”
“-but we’re not really here,” you complete the answer as you nod. It’s just a dream. “How do I know that you’re real and not only the fruit of my imagination?”
“Because I know this place and you don’t,” Dream answers and it’s as obvious as deprived of any sense.
You bring a spoon of pie to your mouth, doubting that this would be enough to prove anything. The sourness of the fruits awaken your tongue and he mimics your movements. There’s something so fundamentally confusing about doing something so domestic when it feels like you’re missing the whole point of it. The quietness being more of a hindrance than an actual help. You’re willing to brush the doubts away and believe that Dream is really here.
“Is this where you’ve been all this time?” You ask. The chances of an answer are thin but you simply can’t help it. Dream shakes his head and pinches his lips together. You hold eye contact, hoping to be able to get an intelligible message in those emerald irises.
“Well, have you been safe at least?”
And now he scrunches his nose as he can never be fully honest yet never dares to lie. Maybe that’s the issue. Maybe you wish he could lie from time to time and you could persuade yourself that it’s the truth as you did with his presence inside your dream.
You’re about to continue the interrogation when he interrupts you, “I’ll answer one more question.”
You huff, as if his facial expressions were actual answers.
“You said you knew this place and I believe you didn’t choose it randomly which means you wanted to show it to me … so where are we?”
And now there’s a full wince on his face. You roll your eyes and throw your hands in the air. You just love Dream’s way of answering questions, don’t you? The annoyance is throbbing, the simplest question becomes the most complex puzzle. You look away, plucking some grass mechanically to release the tension that is growing in your fingers.
“My turn. So you tried to use a spell and bought a pendulum,” Dream says before brushing the cup against his lips. “Bold move for someone who hates magic,” and your attention gets back on him; eyes sparkling and proud grin as if he finally proved a point he tried to make a long time ago. He probably did in a way but you won’t let him hear the whole story as it’s more embarrassing than anything.
“So that’s what you wizards do, huh,” you scoff as you raise an eyebrow. “You text each other to make fun of me?”
Dream doesn’t answer, lashes fluttering slowly as to let you steep in your own question but it only pushes you to talk more, “I have to handle this on my own since you're apparently not willing to help me with my issues.”
“Y/n,” he sighs to bring you back to a reality he thinks you’re too far from. “You don’t wanna get rid of the issues.”
You raise an eyebrow to the audacity, “Why not?”
“The spell didn’t work because neither one of you is ready to let go of the other, so what do you want me to do? There’s nothing I can do if you’re not willing to let go,” Dream explains, “and it’s pretty obvious that you’re not.”
Is it? Your mind hisses. Dream’s voice rings with a confidence that is as irritating as unwelcomed but, maybe, it’s just the way you react when he gets too close to an unwarranted truth. He isn’t as wrong as you wish he was. Why can’t you just let it go?
“Oh come on now, was I ever wrong before?” He continues while the words tangle in your brain for too long. You can clearly picture the wide and oh so proud grin that adorns his lips and you mumble something under your breath that is either related to a cuss or a request for the bragging to stop.
“I don’t want to get rid of him. I just hate that our paths always end up intertwining,” you admit in a deep exhale.
“Of course they do,” Dream murmurs. The words linger before fading away. It’s so gentle that, by the time you realize the breath was a whisper, it’s already too late to ask him to repeat himself. You remain silent, eyes fixed on the steam that escapes from your tea cup as you reconsider saying out loud the words that are hitching your throat so badly.
“It’s not as if a relationship with a sorcerer would be something fruitful or anything anyway.”
Shit.
Dream chokes on his tea he almost spit. You wish you could apologize and say that you didn’t mean the harsh words that left your mouth but it’s nothing but a truth that has to be owned.
“Pretty sure you shouldn’t see a relationship by its loss and benefits.”
“You know it’s not what I meant,” you retort. “I would never be able to be with someone who is so secretive about their life. I mean, to the point where they can’t even answer a simple question like ‘where have you been’.”
“I know,” Dream mumbles, quiet and whispery voice that almost melts into the wind that brushes against the tall grass, “but some things are just better left unsaid.”
It shatters the last glimpse of patience you have left. You can already feel your eyes going wide, ready to roll to the back of your head. You’ve heard this sentence too many times for it to be acceptable.
“See? This fruitless conversation is literally my point,” you complain while throwing a hand in the air.
The silence returns. It’s more irritating than any word could be. It feels like the conversation is about to get too heavy to be endured and you know it can never go that way with Dream. The arguments are always sterile, filled with forbidden words that never work at anyone’s advantage. That’s why you exhale deeply and force yourself to move to a lighter subject, “beside, if I were to decide which sorcerer I’d want to be with, I’m pretty sure I’d choose you.”
“That’s why you’re my favorite human,” Dream sings cheerfully and you can’t repress a smile from creeping on your lips.
“No I’m not. I’m just the only human you talk to on a daily basis,” you snort, “and I would only choose you because you’re the less secretive out of the two I know- which speaks volumes about the level of ignorance I’m on.”
“But you can’t choose, can you?” He trails in a low voice and the thought echoes inside your brain for a long time. His lashes flutter slowly, matching a soft smile that seems too compassionate for the situation, almost a little filled with pity.
“No, I can’t,” you finally conclude after thinking about it for a second and there’s something about that conclusion that almost rings as a confession you’re not sure you should be making in the first place. Spoon rattles against the plates and the sun seems to be back, shining to its fullest capacity. The rest of the tasting in silence, trying to brush every matter out of your sleeves to enjoy a time you’ve been waiting for so long.
“I have to go,” Dream informs you and you raise an eyebrow.
“What, now?” You ask, confused. “We haven’t even finished our picnic.”
“I know, peaches, but I don’t have much time left in here. Call me when you wake up and I promise we’ll catch up.”
Dream gets up and walks through the grass away from you. His silhouette gets smaller and smaller and just as he’s about to make one with the horizon, he turns around, “You were the one who brought up the whole ‘being in a relationship’ thingy. I never implied that.”
And just like that, he’s gone.
[Join the Discord VC,] Dream orders.
Corpse drops the phone on the side table as he lies down, eyes wandering around the crowded room where shelves are filled with books that haven't been read in decades and items he collected from his travels. The white light of the moon mirrors onto every shiny objects. Fatigue burns his eyes and even though it feels like a poker shot, he feels ready to try and get some sleep.
[Stop playing hard to get and join the VC, there’s y/n too,] Dream pushes.
He huffs. Even though he tries his best to keep you at a reasonable distance, you still appear everywhere his eyes lay, do you? He won’t answer, he knows he won’t. His body aches for some earned rest he hasn’t been able to wrap around in a shameful amount of weeks. Corpse exhales heavily, turning left and right on his bed to find the ultimate position he doesn’t seem to find. There’s always a bother he can’t get out of his shoulders. You keep creeping upon his mind as if you had the right to.
He won’t get involved, he knows he won't, but the night rings differently and maybe Corpse is longing to share it with someone a little more than expected. His attention falls upon the plant on a shelf, a distraction from a silence that is almost tempting. It looks miserable and the issue hitches his brain. He gets up, one touch and the plant looks alive again.
In another heavy sigh that drains all the air out of his lungs, Corpse stretches his sore limbs and tense back. He drags his feet to the desk and the computer illuminates the room as much as it hurts his tired eyes. He sits, soulless, for a couple of seconds while still debating whether he should join the call or not before ultimately giving in.
“-stupid. You don’t deserve any apology, Dream,” you roar and Corpse is blown away by a high energy that violently contrasts his.
He has no idea why he joined. It feels like he shouldn’t be here -and he probably really shouldn’t-. You blind him with an enthusiasm he doesn’t know how to handle and surely would never be able to match. He remains silent as voices and wheezes chime too loudly for a disoriented mind like his.
The mouse gets dragged across the screen, he’s so ready to end it before it even had the chance to really start. There’s no point in him being here and he feels like a fool for thinking there was one at some point. Yet, Dream greets him before he is able to.
Fuck.
“What are you doing up so late, you freaks?” Corpse grunts before swallowing a breath. His voice is thundering in a place where the echo is too clear for him to ignore how intense he sounds, too intense for the light mood he felt seconds ago. He doesn’t belong here, he shouldn’t have joined that damn call.
“Why, hello emo Howl, Dream here agreed to teach me how to use a pendulum because he actually cares,” you taunt maliciously as if you didn’t care, as if he never killed a mood he shouldn’t even have bothered to kill.
And now, he realizes there’s no use pushing you away as it only makes him look like the bad guy and doesn’t actually do the requested job. Now that it’s so clear, he almost feels a little guilty, mostly stupid.
“That’s not what I said,” Dream retorts but your voice is already flooding everyone’s headphones with quotes he never stated in the first place and he eventually has to give up.
Your laugh is so candid as you and Dream bicker, so organic and contagious Corpse can’t help but pinch his lips not to smile too. But he gets it now; you just don’t know how to take no for an answer. It’s what makes you so overly annoying but maybe that’s also why he always ends up obliging to whatever request you have to make.
The conversation drifts on and off. Corpse discovers a bond he would have never expected. It’s deep and oh so pretty and it feels like whatever it is, you and Dream are made of the same thing. There comes a point where Corpse wishes he could stop feeling like the outcast and join a conversation he’s somehow scared to interrupt. How nice could it be to be so close to someone? How nice could it be having someone who is there no matter what? He forbids himself to explore the idea. He used to know and now he only has to look through the mirror to really see how nice it is. It’s an illegitimate sense of envy that pinches his heart and tastes helplessly bittersweet.
“Anyway,” you say as the chuckles fall breathless. “Corpse, did you know it was the full moon tonight?”
“Oh really?” He breathes before wincing. He’s well aware that it’s the full moon; he’s a goddamn sorcerer. One glance around him and he can see its reflection into thousands of pieces across the room.
“See?” Dream triumphs
“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh heavily, throwing a side eye to your screen in which Dream and Corpse’s drawn icons are displayed. “I thought you guys would like … dance naked in circles in a forest or something.”
Dream’s confusion is loud in his tone and Corpse surprises himself to laugh at the theatrical tone you chose to deliver the words How cute. Humans are so naive, believing everything they hear and see on TV.
“So, you guys don’t do anything particular on the full moon,” you conclude, seemingly a little upset.
“I do, but that doesn’t imply … t-that,” Dream answers with a tone that blends discomfort and amusement.
Maybe it is as nice as he thought it would be; being able to share a peaceful night and a glimpse of joy with people who seem to care.
That’s why you’re so dangerous; you’re so spontaneous you make him wish he were too. It’s one thing to play with fire. It’s another to play with your own life; too risky to be worth it. Yet, everybody who has experienced l’appel du vide would recognize that thrilling sensation inside their chest. As much as Corpse wants to keep you as far away as possible, you keep reminding him that you’re the tingling sensation on the back of his shoulder.
“What about you, Corpse?” You ask.
“I-I don’t really actively practice magic anymore,” he stutters as if he wasn’t expecting to be given a voice.
“Oh, why not?”
The question echoes inside his mind. Why not? He knows there’s a good explanation but right now it feels like his mind can’t wrap itself around it. He knows there is one yet it feels as though he has forgotten. It confuses him as he parts his lips with a frown, expecting an answer to come out but the words tangle with each other and won’t leave his tongue.
“Well I gotta go,” Dream interrupts the train of his thoughts and it’s almost comforting for Corpse to know that he doesn’t have to further torture his own mind. “You two be nice to each other," he orders and you’re already whining and complaining about his sudden escape.
“What do you wanna do, Corpse, do you wanna go to bed?” You ask.
Behind the loudness and vulgarity you’re always performing, Corpse understands now that there’s a certain elegance in the way you interact with him. A delicacy that resides in the tone of your voice. As if you cared, really cared about what he has to say. How could you still think of him as a friend when he keeps treating you so poorly? He doesn’t deserve it, deprived of a sense of empathy they took away from him too long ago.
“I’m not really tired,” he lies as if you didn’t already know that fatigue was his trademark. He’s surprised you don’t point out the fact that he keeps lying for obscure reasons.
It’s not like he would complain about it. The silence the night brings along is contemplative. He wishes there would be more night like this, when time would almost stop to let him catch his breath. Somehow, he feels like it could be filled with something good, something worth it.
“What are you thinking about?” Corpse asks in an attempt to explore that peaceful quietness.
“I wonder what magic could look like,” you answer with what you deem to be an useless honesty.
The question is stupid but he doesn’t seem to find it funny, considering it with a gentle seriousness before saying,“Do you want me to show you?”
A grin grows on your lips, heart beating with anticipation, “Would you really do that?”
Corpse hums and you lift your head as requested. You stare at the ceiling where shadows move when headlights are projected on the windows. There’s a long pause -too long for your impatient mind- before multiple sparkles of light spread on your ceiling. They twinkle and crakle like fairylights and multiply in front of your amazed eyes. Soon they gather and turn the dark ceiling into a starry night.
Your breath gets caught in your throat as you admire the stars that seem to be floating above your head as if they have always been here, as if they belonged to you.
“Is it working ?” Corpse asks nervously when you’re too silent for his liking.
“What do you mean ‘is it working’? This is fucking amazing, Corpse,” you choke out as you giggle as frenetically until your belly hurts. There’s no human words fitted to describe this state of perplexity and admiration. There's no such beautiful and clear sky in the city, that's why it's so special.
Corpse laughs with you. It’s nothing new but, somehow, in the quietness of the night, it vibrates differently. It doesn’t sound like the kind of forced chuckle he makes when he feels like people are expecting him to laugh but rather genuine and oh so endearing.
You thought you could never enjoy anything related to magic but now you realize that maybe it’s more likely that you never learned how to grow fond of it. When a shootingstar crosses the crafted sky, you both exclaim a "oh" before faintly chuckling. You let your back rest on the chair, imagining that Corpse is probably doing the same and looking at the same sky you’re looking at.
“It feels like you’re sitting next to me right now,” you murmur and it feels so special to be able to share a moment that seems so intimate that it makes your heart warm from a proximity you never knew could be possible.
“You’re cute,” Corpse breathes before he can realize it and once he does, it’s too late to take it back.
“No I’m not,” you grumble between your teeth.
“Sure, if you say so,” he finally shrugs in a battle he knows he can’t win.
Somehow, it feels like a turning point you can sense in a feeling nested inside your chest; a sense of novelty that makes you a little nervous as you don’t know if it’s for the best or the worst. Yet, this new beginning feels like it’s about honesty.
“Are you happy, y/n?” Corpse whispers and it’s so faint you wonder if it’s meant for you to hear.
“I am,” you still answer with a soft smile. “Are you happy?”
“I try to be,” he says after considering the question for a while. A confirmation that you wish you never had to deal with. It sends you back to every conversation that ended up in half bitten words and a concerning amount of melancholia that almost choked you even though it wasn’t yours.
It clicks. Bitterness is not the only thing Corpse has left in him. It’s a protection.
“Why are you so sad, Corpse?”
When the words linger for too long and he can no longer stare at the stars above his head, his throat gets sore, lips trembling as he bites them firmly. He feels seen in a way he thought he was safe from. It’s discomforting, unnerving and a spike that threats to burst into his heart. He takes a moment to remember that he has to breathe. He always seems to forget.
“Because when you live for so long, you live through everything,” Corpse mutters and that’s as honest as he can be.
“And everyone,” you conclude and he hums dryly.
“Can I give you a piece of advice?” You ask, knowing damn well that the amount of deep conversation has passed a long time ago and that the loan you’re deciding to take will have some sort of consequence. “If you keep hoping for the people who haunt you to come back, you’ll never be able to cherish the ones who are actually in front of you.”
The words tinkle in Corpse’s head in an odd way like a call for an awakening. He remembers that Sykkuno used to tell him the same thing; it’s time to let it go. It rises inside his lung like a sea of anguish he’s not ready for and it’s so overwhelming it’s animating him with emotions that are too violent for him to think.
“So what?” he scoffs, “are you saying that you’re the one in front of me?”
“I’m not the one who should answer that question,” you simply answer. It’s not enough, it’s not enough for him to make up his mind. Is that a yes or a no? He can’t think and the words are crumbling, too eager to get out.
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” he says with an unexpectedly strong voice that spreads shivers on your arm. “There’s no place for a human in my life.”
“Good because I don’t like sorcerers,” you thunder before ending the call abruptly.
You sit on your chair puzzled for a second. What the fuck was that?
☾ A/N : WOOOOOW I can't believe I finally finished this chapter it's surreal. I can't even begin to tell you how much I wrote and rewrote this I just COULDNT DO IT!!! Thank you for your patience it has been the wildest ride (I feel like I say that every time but hehe) Anyway thanks for reading I feel like shit is finally about to get started in here and I'm so damn excited!! As always let me know what you think and Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)
☾ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 *OPEN* dm me or ask me to get tagged :
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#the sorcerer#corpse husband#corpse husband x you#corpse husband x reader#corpse husband x y/n#corpse x reader#corpse x you#corpse x y/n#corpse imagine#corpse fanfic#reincarnation au
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Ghost of You || Luke X Reader || Part 1
Hello everyone!! welcome to my first Fanfic pretty much.... im really nervous about posting it, and really hope you guys like it! Im going to warn you that there are some punctuation mistakes, and probably some misspelled words, and run on sentences... but nobodies perfect eh? lol anyways Enjoy! please let me know what you think, I am already writing part 2 so if this goes well ill post that soon :)
A/N: Your best friends with Julie, since the stamp was removed from the boys they are able to be seen by lifers at choice and can touch lifers at choice, but are still ghosts. You and Luke grow closer and closer starting to go from friends to more than that and everyone starts to notice, it just takes a little longer for you two to figure it out.
Word Count: 2,352
First day of school is always hard, especially senior year.... big deal or its supposed to be. You have always had a hard time with school because it was just hard for you to focus, you were always thinking about what you would rather be doing like painting, singing, taking a walk, and most recently learning guitar which Luke had been more than happy to help you with. Luke, Luke Patterson he was a member of your best friend Julies ghost band, Julie and The Phantoms, which included members Luke, Reggie, Alex, and of course Julie. You always knew they existed but it wasn't until recently that you were really able to get to know them your self because until recently only Julie could see them. Ever since they had that curse of a stamp removed from them, they pretty much can choose whenever they want to be seen or touch anything. It has been nice, because now you can really be apart of your best friends new world, you also got to make 3 new really fun and funny friends, they were just as chaotic as you and Julie. You and Luke really clicked from the moment you and him were able to actually see each other, well he has always been able to see you, but this way was much better. Since you and Luke hung out all the time, you found your self spending hours with him a day. In fact thats where you were before school, was with Luke, you guys had this little place by a lake you loved to hang out at, which caused you to be late for your first day.
So deep in your thoughts you didn't even realize you made it to your locker until you heard the all so familiar tone of your best friend calling out your name as she approached your locker "y/n!!! I didn't even see you pull in" Julie said as she now rested against the lockers next to you "Hey Jules! sorry I over slept and was late" Julie rolled her eyes "On your first day! man you really setting the bar high this year" she said laughing at you, You laugh too at the obvious sarcastic tone in her voice "alright, alright!! ms setting the bar high, we better get to class" you say punching Julie playfully in the arm before heading down the hallway to class.
As you sat in class, you started to feel really bad about lying to Julie about the real reason you were late to school today, you just didn't know how to explain how much you and Luke have been hanging out with out her asking a million questions, but its not like it was a big deal. Trying to get out of your head you try to focus on Mr. Berty who was describing the different factors of algebra which you never understood anyway, so you just write notes in hopes that when you study it later you'll understand it.... which never happens either. As you're writing notes you notice something in the window, in the corner of your eye, not really thinking anything of it until you notice that the thing is jumping up and down and no one else is noticing which could only mean one thing. You look to the side and you see Luke in his orange beanie and Rush tank top jumping up and down waving his arms in order to get your attention with the biggest smile on his face, you laugh to your self, and then realizing he must want something, looking at the clock you realized you still had 40 mins left in this class *Oh my gosh! for real its only been 20 minutes!* you thought to yourself; quickly looking from the clock to the window where Luke was still jumping, you raise your hand "Yes ms. Y/L/N" you bring your hand down faster than you want to, slightly hurting it on the desk "May I use the restroom please?" you ask hesitantly, eager to know what Luke wants, Mr. Berty sighed with annoyance "If you really need to, I suppose, but make it fast ms. Y/L/N" you stand up a little to excited "Thank you mr. Berty" you said as you scurried out the door.
When you made it outside Luke stopped jumping, but his smile remained. You loved his smile, it was contagious, you noticed you were smiling too "Luke! what are you doing here" you said punching his arm playfully, he laughed and grabbed his arm pretending that the punch hurt him "Wow the abuse Y/N" with a smirk he continued "Someone help!!! im being abused someone help!!!" you roll your eyes and smack your hand over his mouth "Not that anyone can hear you, but shut up! that did not hurt" you say with a small laugh, as he is laughing underneath your hand "What are you doing here Luke?" you say with your hand still on his mouth, you feel his smile grow bigger underneath your hand "Well, Y/N, Im here because I got something for you!! but you have to come with me to get it" he said with pure excitement, still with your hand on his mouth, then he licked your hand to get it off, you pull away in knee jerk reaction, he smiled "Sorry! as much as I love your hand on my mouth we need to go!" he said eagerly, you laughed and rolled your eyes "Luke, you do realize im at school right?" he grabbed your hand pulling you across the school field "Yeah! but if you really cared about that, you wouldn't have come outside would you" he said, still with the biggest smile on his face, you rolled your eyes even more and gave in knowing he was right "Alright! but where are you taking me" you exclaimed, speeding up to be side by side with him instead of him dragging you, he looked at you, and bit his lip still excited "aha! you'll just have to wait and see" he said and you both smiled. As you kept walking you realized never Luke never let go of your hand from when he was dragging you..... not that it meant anything, it felt nice though.
It took about 15 mins to walk to you and Lukes usual spot by the lake, still holding hands you approached the tree you guys likes to sit by, or sit in depending on if you wanted to climb, which about 90% of the time Luke did.. also doesn't help he can just teleport up there if he wants to, where as you had to do it the hard way while he just laugh at you trying to climb up. This time Luke wasn't going up the tree, he let go of your hand, which kind of made you sad, but then you saw the look on Lukes face, which was pure excitement "Stay right here Y/N!" he said firmly grasping your shoulders to make sure you stayed in place, as he hopped over to the tree "CLOSE YOUR EYES!" he yelled from behind the tree grabbing something, but you obeyed closing your eyes and before you knew it he was in front of you, you could feel it "Alright, you can open" he said softly, you opened your eyes, and there Luke was with the same smile, holding an acoustic guitar, you could tell it was a nice one, just from the shine on it and how pretty the strings looked, you didn't even realize your mouth was wide open until Luke laughed "Ya like it?" he exclaimed, and you just looked at it "Is that for me?" you asked shocked and excited, Luke laughed "Is that for me?" Luke mocked you "Yeah its for you! ya dork" he continued as he hopped over around you, to get behind you so he could place the guitar in front of you for you to hold, you could feel his arms brush against you... which you like as much as the hand holding but, a little more ... again it didn't mean anything, he was just a friend... and Julies band mate. Luke continued talking taking you out of your trance "Ya never answered me though, do you like it" He said still behind you, but now you were holding the guitar, you just looked at it in awe "Where did you get this Luke? How did you get this?" you asked still in shock, Luke just laughed "Don't worry about that!" he said with a mischievous tone, and then you got worried "Luke you didn't ?!... you didn't steal this right!" you asked with actual concern, you wouldn't put it past him, he just laughed and in a teasing tone said "Ouch! you think I would do that Y/N.... Im not that bad!" and then he continued but more serious this time "No! I didn't steal it, Since I have this new found power of choosing when to be seen and stuff, I picked up a small job at the music store downtown, thought why not earn some money.... and then when you asked me to teach you how to play guitar, I wanted to get you your own.... sooooo I have been saving up ever since" he said in a soft tone and then you felt him come closer to you from behind, but now he was putting his hands on the guitar softly playing a melody, while pretty much holding you, as he played the melody you could feel his breath on your neck.... you guys have never been this physically close before, right before you got to lost into your thought Luke continued talking "You! still haven't answered the question though!!! do you like it??" he exclaimed with a teasing tone once again, which caused you to laugh, and you turned around in his arms making the current position pretty much a hug but Lukes holding a guitar "Of course I like it you dork!!" you said excited and continued "This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me...." you looked into his eyes and with a soft tone said "Thank you" he smiled, a soft smile, and his whole face became soft as he relaxed the guitar down by both your sides and looked deeper into your eyes "Of course...." he said softly, both of you just looking deeper into each others eyes, you felt some kind of connection, and you felt like you both were getting closer and closer to each other and then a voice came from behind both of you, causing both of you to shake out of the trance you both shared "Hey! Y/N! Luke! what are you guys doing out here?
You and Luke both jump, moving away from each other as you see Reggie come out of the trees eating a meatball sub. You and Luke look at each other confused as crap as to why Reggie was there and how he knew about it "Hey Reg!" Luke said a little nervous putting his hand behind his head messing with this beanie, you looked flustered flashing your eyes from Luke to Reggie and back to Luke who continued talking "the real question is what are you doing out here buddy?" and Reggie just chuckled a little, while taking another bite off his sandwich "Well, I went to the school to see Kayla like I always do, we like to eat lunch together, then I saw you two run off and thought I would follow" Reggie said with a full mouth, you and Luke shared a look "So you have been here the whole time?" you asked, wondering how you guys didn't notice Reggie was behind you guys the whole time, Reggie smiled a meatball smile since his mouth was still full and he answered "Yeah!! but I wanted to eat my sandwich so I decided to sit down in those trees and eat it" Luke looked at Reggie with a confused look "But Reg, isn't that your sandwich?" Luke asked still confused, and Reggie looked at him, again with a meatball smile "No! this was supposed to be Kaylas sandwich but since I didn't see her, because I followed you guys... I decided to eat it!" You and Luke laughed and Luke stepped forward patting Reggie on the shoulder "Kayla is one lucky girl Reg!" Luke said teasing Reggie, you laughed in response, and then Reggie went back to his initial question "So what are you guys doing out here?" he asked taking yet another bite of the sandwich, in which Luke got nervous again and answered Reggie with a slightly nervous tone "Hey! shouldn't you be getting back to the school, Kayla is gonna be wondering where your at bud" Reggie stopped chewing and his eyes grew big and he looked at Luke "Youre right! awww man, im gonna have to go get another sandwich" Reggie answered in a high pitched nervous tone "Ill see ya guys later!" Reggie said while running away nearly tripping over his own feet. You and Luke sighed and looked at each other, Luke smiled "Well should we get you back to school as well?" Luke asked you with a soft tone added with a light chuckle at the end, you nodded "Yeah, Lunch is gonna be starting soon and Julie is gonna be wondering where I went" you responded, and then looked at your guitar and looked back at Luke "I love my guitar Luke, I really love it!" you said as you wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a tight hug, he responded by wrapping his arms around your wait pulling you in tighter, when you guys released from the hug you shared another look, quickly shaking it off with Luke responding "I cant wait to teach you some more chords on it!" he said back to his excited state from when you first got there, skipping forward grabbing your hand again as you guys walked back to school together.
#Julie and the Phantoms#jatp#jatp fanfic#Julie and the Phantoms fanfic#Luke Patterson#Luke Patterson fanfic#Luke Patterson x y/n#Luke Patterson x reader#Luke Patterson fanfiction#Charlie Gillespie#jatp fanfiction#julie and the phantoms fanfiction#im really nervous to be posting this but here goes nothing 💜#marys fanfic
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ＲＥＱＵＥＳＴ:Hey Kid! May I request a platonic Todoroki x pro hero reader? Where she was best friends with Touya and after what happened she always tries to be there for Shota and she always annoys Endeavor (*cough* asshole *cough*). Hope that made sense! Oh and maybe she has an angel type quirk? -🐉
HEY HEY! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH KDSJF i included Dabi a lot more in da bonus,,, hes uhm… really hot.
Ｇｅｎｒｅ：CHAOS/ANGST NEAR THE END
𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: some angst if you squint, cursing, reader being a bad bitch to the fire man,
𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘴: she/her
AN: AHHAHAH I SUCK AT HERO NAMES LMAOOOSDJHF S okay so fr i got really into this… and watch me make up things about the hero world… and in this, endeavour has no redemption arc….
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Readers quirk: Angel Wings
Hero name: Halo
Description: sprouting from just below your shoulder blades come pure white feathery wings, and from tip to tip is 26 feet of pure wing. When you surround someone with your wings you have healing qualities. Your wings can carry you incredibly fast, sometimes faster than hawks if ya try hard enough
Weakness: Alike Hawks, your wings are susceptible to fire.
Italics in between - are flashbacks
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“What was he like?” the hetero chromatic boy besides you asked, eyes wandering into yours.
“He was…” you smiled at him. He's never met him, or really interacted with his own brother, thanks to his father.
“He was really sweet to me Shoto. I think you would’ve loved him.”
“You think so?”
There was a moment of silence, and you reached over to rest your hand on his.
You smiled wide at him, reminiscing over your lost friend.
“I do.”
You sighed over the lost memories, the old ones, and ones you’ll never be able to make. You swung your legs in your stool and bit the inside of your lip.
It hurts to think of him, but he’s okay now.
He's gotta be and you promised him.
You spun in your seat to face Shoto, and to turn your attention to anything else right now.
“Come on, we can get a drink later or soba or something, but we have to be at my agency in twenty.” You jumped off your seat, your shoes landing on the ground with a soft thud.
“Okay.” The boy next to you hopped off his seat as well, and fixed his hero costume. Looking into his left eye reminded you of your best friend, who you lost so long ago.
You tried your best to be side by side with Shoto, knowing how hard Enji was on him.
Not only that, but you promised Toya.
You promised him to stick around, both in life and with his beloved family.
Even if something happened to him.
He promised you the same thing, that if you were to die, he would stick around for the better.
-
“Hey. Can I tell you something?” The red haired boy leaned forward, and swung his legs once or twice. You sat on the roof of your apartment, the one where he slept over on a weekly basis.
The stars were out, the moon reflected off of his blue eyes as he stared at you.
“Yeah, whats up?”
You were only 14 at the time, he was 15. There was nothing between you, just a family kinda love.
“Can you make me a promise? I’ll make the same one back.” He held out his hand, pinky outstretched. It was your thing, you pinky promise before the promise is stated because no matter what,
You guys were sticking together.
You wrapped your pinky around his, and touched the pads of your thumb together.
“I can.”
There was a second of silence, and he stared into your eyes.
“If I die you have to stick around.”
You stared at him, and tears pricked the corner of your eyes. Your wings fluttered and stuck close to you.
“Okay. I promise.” You shakily promised him, and blinked the tears away. You pulled on his hand before he let go and your brows furrowed.
“Be safe, okay Toya? That's all I need you to say right now. Promise me.”
He looked lost for a second, lost in your protection, lost in his own pain, everything.
“I promise.”
-
You walked quickly next to Shoto, talking happily of new soba recipes or shops, your friends, anything that popped up.
There weren’t many boundaries, but Toya was never brought up much.
You fiddled with your necklace charm, the one in the shape of a light blue heart.
“Shoto, how is Midoriya?” you asked him, hoping to change your mind's topic.
Todoroki carried the conversation on his own, until you arrived at your agency. You didn't mind he carried it, it was nice.
“Still breaking hands, hand crusher?” You teased him, and he smiled slightly.
“Not anymore, gladly.”
You laughed with each other as you walked down the halls, waving to sidekicks and heroes who lingered in your agency.
Closer to your office, Shoto had scared himself shitless, turning a corner and he swore he saw something move and he iced the floor, it was fun.
He slid around, squatted slightly, arms out as you flew slightly above the ground.
You giggled at him, rolling around the walls as he struggled.
It was all fun and games.
“Shoto. Halo.” A booming voice echoed through the hall, causing your laughter to cease quickly. You glanced near the sound, already knowing its owner. You narrowed your eyes, and cocked your head to the side and you crossed your arms.
“Endeavour.” You said, your voice monotone.
The red haired male stared at you, his arms crossed and his head tilted up slightly.
“Can we help you?” you asked him, a certain snarl in your voice.
The male looked down upon you as his son steadied himself and stood besides you. He clenched his fists at the sight of his father, the current top hero.
Endeavor said nothing, and you grew frustrated. What does he fucking want?
“Hello?” you waved your hand dangerously close to his face, feeling his flames rise and grow in heat. “Did you fucking hear me?”
Shoto’s eyes widened slightly as he watched his father and your taunting actions.
“If you keep acting like a child, you will never reach me.” His voice boomed, and there was a moment of silence. Shoto turned his head slightly to see you holding in a laugh.
“Father-”
“HAHAHA YOU’RE A GODDAMN IDIOT. YOU THINK I WOULD WANT TO BE LIKE YOU?” you laughed at him, and got closer to his face. Shoto grabbed your hand, but did not hold you back much farther from that.
Being face to face with this man, that took away your best friend from you, caused him pain and trauma and sorrow. And not just him, his whole fucking bloodline.
“You think I would ever want to be like you? You’re the man who took him away from me. My fucking best friend. I would never want to be like you, and I know he wouldn't want to be either.”
You prodded him with your finger, staring into his fiery eyes. His eyes narrowed at the mention of his son, and tightened his arms around his chest. Seeing him made you upset, and anyone could see it.
“So no, if being the number one hero, or fuck, even a top hero, meant being anything like you, then no. I will always choose to never be like you, and anyone with half a goddamn brain cell knows why.”
You pulled away from him, an anger in your stomach and your left hand was made into a fist. The boy besides you tugged on your hand, and you stepped back into line with him.
“So, please Endeavwhore, try me.” Your scowled at him, and he stared. His eyes switched from you to his son to your right. He scoffed and began to turn away.
“Don’t let me down, Shoto.”
His hand clenched around yours, your fingers intertwined.
“Don't worry Sho, you will never be like him.”
You softly tapped his shoulder with yours, and he looked at you. You looked into his eyes, and smirked at him, flashing a wink. You flipped up your middle finger to the fiery males back and stuck your tongue out at him, as Shoto snickered softly.
Endeavor continued walking, his heavy boots echoing down the hall.
I miss you Toya.
-
“Toya, don't continue to be around her.” Endeavor glared at you as he continued.
“She will continue to be a horrible influence, and will never be a top hero.”
Toya’s fists clenched hard, but he shoved them into his pockets to hide his furious action.
“Do you understand me Toya?”
The boy was silent, his eyes with a sharp glare. Your breath hitched in your throat and you began to slowly scooch closer to the boy.
“She’ll always be a better hero than you.”
Toya said as he rolled his eyes and stuck out his middle finger almost directly in his father's face. Your wings spread wide and took off fast, and as you held onto the boy's waist, you heard his father yell over the sound of the wind.
“HAH! FUCKING LOOK AT THAT,THAT BASTARD!” Toya laughed in your arms, his legs swinging over open air. You glanced at where his finger was pointing and saw his father stand in rising flames, and in obvious rage.
You couldn't help but snicker as you warned him.
“Dude, you're gonna get killed! Oh my god, we’re going back to my place.”
-
But, I will protect Shoto with all my power.
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AN: UNDER HERE IS ANGST DUDE HELP AJBHF
BONUS:
An alarm blared through your halls, flashing lights overcoming your senses. Shoto grasped your arm, and began to run. Your wings shook, shuddering to keep up with the sudden action.
“Come on. 17th precinct!”
Shoto ran out of your agency, and you parted ways. Your wings took flight quickly and flew you above the city.
You searched and searched for a sight of chaos, and it only took a moment before your wings acted before your brain could.
You sped off towards a tunnel of smoke, knowing Shoto can meet you there.
Your wings carried you fast and flapped heavily, and you knew you were not fit for this.
You had no choice, and if anything
This is what being a hero is about.
You could die here easily, stripped of your wings, stripped of your and yet here you are.
Because you promised you would keep fighting.
Your wings fluttered as you dropped to the ground, your eyes immediately searching for victims.
There was no one around, just burnt debris and smoke. The smoke filled your lungs, and you struggled to breathe.
Your eyes never ceased to search for victims, high and low left and right,
But you found no one.
You ran into the smoke, shielding your eyes. Eventually, Shoto will find you but for now you must search for others and protect them.
A shadowy figure stalked towards you, barely seen in the thick of the smoke.
“Hey! Are you okay?” you coughed out as loud as you could.
His footsteps were heavy, and a burned coat flew behind him.
“Just fine angel.”
You tensed at the nickname, no one called you that anymore. It was a common nickname, and you were the angel hero.
“Who are you?” You shouted as the figure grew near, more and more, heavy footsteps echoed off burnt and fallen debris.
And there was silence as he stopped walking, the smoke began to clear slowly. You squinted, attempting to see into his figure, searching for any sign of real life in it.
You stood as tall as you could and stretched your wings to the fullest. They were covered in ashes and dirt.
As the smoke cleared you made out his tall lanky figure as much as you could.
His burned jacket flew in the wind, wrapped around his scarred body. His scars were purple and seemed scary, but faintly familiar.
His eyes were a scary blue, but they brought a warmth with the sorrow they seemed to carry.
Your necklace hung against your chest, moving slightly in the wind.
“Still a hero?”
You didn't know what he meant, maybe he’s seen you on T.V. and figured you were a worse version of Hawks.
“Yes, I- Who are you? Can I help? Are you okay?” You asked him, you didn't know if he was okay or not.
It never occurred to you he could be the one beyond it.
“Oh I’m just fine doll!” He raised his scarred hand to the right, and blue flames burst out of it.
“You should be concerned over the destruction hm?”
You stood in shock, the flames, the eyes, the scars.
“Holy shit.” you whimpered to yourself, staring into his turquoise eyes as he smiled at your unmoving figure.
“Holy shit!” You yelled, and began to run towards him.
The smoke hurt your eyes,
But you kept running.
He reached his other hand out, maybe he expected you to stop, to be afraid, but your legs moved before your brain could think.
Your footsteps were quick and light. You avoided burnt debri, and as you grew closer to the male you could make out his features.
Jagged purple scarred half of his face, silver staples decorated the edges of them. His black hair flew in a familiar pattern, and on top of everything,
His blue eyes were even more prominent up close.
You stared into them, brows furrowed in worry, for the destruction, for the civilians, for wherever the hell Shoto is right now.
“Who are you?” you asked again, and raised your hands, your left hand gripping his raised arm, and your right his coat.
He smiled at me again and leaned his head forward.
“Whadda mean, hero?” He said, close enough to your ear to send shivers down your spine.
“Don’t you remember me?”
You opened your mouth to respond to him, but Shoto’s voice began to echo through the debris.
“HALO!” He yelled for you, and you wanted to turn to see him but your eyes were locked onto the black haired male before you.
“Shoto.” you whispered. Your lower lip trembled just a little, and your brows furrowed again.
“Shoto!” You yelled as you began to step back away from the male before you. You stumbled back, and the lanky male grabbed onto the front of your costume, and held you in place.
“HAL-” Shoto’s voice rang through your mine, and your head whipped around to see him, his eyes wide and flames bursting from his side.
“Dabi. Let her go.” He shouted slightly, he was still a bit far. His hair waved in the wind as he moved towards you as fast as he could.
“Hi, Shoto. Nice to see you again. I’m just having fun with my doll, eh?” Dabi smirked at him, as his hand released your costume and you fell back.
You hit the ground hard, and groaned. You stared into the males eyes, switching between his and Shotos left eye.
“Toya.” You whispered to him, lip quivering. He snapped his head to you and smiled wide.
“Hi angel.”
He grasped your throat in his right hand, his hand was hot, overwhelming hot.
“I see you kept your promise.”
His other hand fiddled with your necklace, the one he gave to you so long ago. He stared at it, before switching his eyes to you, and tugging on the chain quickly. The chain broke apart in his grip, and fell apart onto the group.
You were unbothered and delved into your memories of your best friend, the best friend you thought you lost.
“I missed you doll.”
Everything around you began to set itself to flames.
-
AN: might fuck around and write a part 2… has me thinking about yagami yatos dabi
#dabi#dabi x reader#dabi is todoroki touya#dabi is toya#dabi angst#shoto#shoto x reader#shoto todoroki#todoroki x reader#todoroki shoto#todoroki shoto x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#mha x reader#bnha#mha angst#mha#bnha x reader#bnha x reader angst#bnha angst#Platonic mha#platonic shoto#platonic todoroki#platonic todoroki shoto#platonic bnha#platonic bnha x reader#platonic mha x reader
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