#I listened to it for the second time today

[in-my-feels-probably]

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone. 

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway. 

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet. 

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled. 

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life. 

None of them mattered. 

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile. 

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence. 

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels. 

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way. 

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars. 

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye. 

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score. 

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop. 

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips. 

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard. 

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you. 

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail. 

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like. 

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better. 

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen. 

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door. 

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest. 

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head. 

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

#challengers x reader #challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #taylor swift #so high school #ttpd #the tortured poets department #the anthology

[erwinsvow]

we need more moment where shy!reader was studying and practicing new things to show rafe!! ik that girl is so kinky and it’s always the shy girls <33

YESS omg i srsly love that drabble when i reread it im like she was cookin.. i feel like shes the type to try to prep herself with a dildo bc she can never take all of rafe but imagine he found it n was like ?!!?

really—your boyfriend was too big. it was excessive, and though you could never find the words to tell him to stop or slow down—mostly because you didn't want him to—he always did anyways.

no matter how much you insisted that you could take all of him, rafe didn't like to listen. so you were stuck in a conundrum, and your choices were either lying to your boyfriend that it didn't hurt or accepting the fact that he'll never be as rough with you as you want.

you were willing to sit down and accept a lot of things without a fight—but this was not one of them.

one discreetly wrapped delivery later, you had yourself your very own rafe-sized dildo—a pretty pink color and of such a size that it had your insides churning with anticipation. about half an hour later with the use of some lube and lots of work, you were successfully able to fit about three-fourths. it wasn't perfect, yet, but it was a work in progress.

you didn't want to overdo it and end up insanely sore either, and you were beginning to realize even half was enough to have you cumming over and over again. so much so that you almost forgot about the date you had planned with rafe for that night—scrambling to get up and get ready.

that night, after a nice date and way too much ice cream, you realized you were too fucked out from your afternoon activity to go for another round for rafe. it was no big deal—except it happened the next day. then the day after that. and the one after that.

you had mastered the rafe-sized dildo, and you could take the entire thing after week of practice. but it also meant that it had been a full week without your boyfriend fucking you—something that hadn't happened since you had lost your virginity to him.

a little too clueless around rafe like always, you hadn't realized anything was wrong. rafe was on edge—pent up and unable to keep taking out his frustration on the golf course after almost breaking one of his clubs—but you didn't really notice.

you were waiting for tonight, after another date to show him your new-found skills, but of course, he didn't know that.

getting ready in your bathroom, blasting music and doing your makeup, you don't even hear the door open to your bedroom. rafe came to get you early, knowing you would need more time but way too antsy to wait alone in his car.

he sits on your bed, listening to the muffled music from behind the closed door. he's not impatient with you and hardly ever like this, but the current situation had left him more desperate to see you than usual.

leaning against your headboard, he feels something under your pillow. lifting it to move whatever it was—knowing you, the book you had been reading last night—his jaw clenches when he sees it. a dildo. not just any dildo—a huge dildo. under your pillow like you'd just been using it or something.

the pillow stays in his hand but he has an overwhelming urge to chuck it across the room. was this the reason the two of you hadn't had sex in a week? were you finding pleasure from some stupid toy instead of him?

"rafe?" you ask, stepping out of the bathroom and staring at the scene in front of you with big eyes. you're distractingly pretty everyday but even more so today with a short skirt and done-up face for the date he's not sure if he'll be taking you on.

your face burns with humiliation—stupidly realizing you hadn't put the damn thing away after last night. rafe is looking at you and then looking back at your bed, his fist tight around your pillow.

"um, i-"

"do you wanna explain? i'll give you five fuckin' seconds to explain-"

"no, it's not what it looks like-"

"really, kid? what it looks like is you're fuckin' this stupid thing instead of me. y'know, i'll just fuck off and you can have fun-"

rafe stands, not really angry but still sounding like he is. it's more pent-up frustration bubbling up, but you rush over to him anyways, looking so panicked he feels bad the second he said anything. he can't stay mad at you for longer than a minute.

"it's not what it looks like, i swear-"

"what is it then, huh?"

"i was just practicing! i was just trying to get better for you. see, it's yours." you motion to the toy still on the bed.

"huh?" rafe asks, looking between you and the bed.

"it's you. see. it's like... your size. um-" you get flustered again, shutting up in the fear that you've just said something to rafe that you should have kept to yourself. "i'm.. sorry?"

"no you're not."

"no, but i feel bad. are your feelings hurt? i'm sorry."

when rafe glances back at you, tearing his gaze away from the bright pink that's beginning to hurt his eyes, he realizes how sad you look, thinking you've done something to upset him.

"no, m'fine. just.. tell me next time. it was a jump scare."

"okay.." you stay still infront of him, awkwardly playing with your hands waiting for him to say something. you're a little concerned rafe's still upset, but he doesn't seem to look it, rather looking at you expectedly.

"what?" you question immediately, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"what? get on the bed. you've had enough practice. time for the real thing."

#oop #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

[dr-solomon]

(🔞) — "you can only touch me when the music stops."

w: bf!gyu × fem!reader, unprotected sex, pussy eating/slapping, dirty talk, little mutual seductive games?shows? (wildness wildness wildness wildness)

~

You had been busy all week, so when the weekend came, the excitement of having a chance to spend time with each other made you both silly.

This time Beomgyu was at your house and you realized once again that the house was really empty without him today.

You could have chatted in your bedroom until dawn. It was probably your favorite thing. Both of you would take turns talking about your week; Beomgyu's tragic events with his boss, or your annoying teachers were the most viral topics of your nightly chats.

For you, talking only under the moonlight and the led lights made this activity extra special.

That's why tonight you were sitting in your bedroom, which you had decorated together.

But tonight, something was different.

"Hey, is your alarm going off?" Beomgyu was the first to hear the strange sound coming from under the covers.

"Oh, yeah." You hurriedly found your phone and stopped the stupid sound.

Annoying music is always ideal for alarms.

You smiled at Beomgyu. "I forgot to turn it off." And he smiled back. "My love, are you setting an alarm for this time?" It was funny to him because he had never seen you set an alarm for the night before.

"Yeah, it's just a new way of getting to bed early." you laughed to yourself. "I'm too stubborn to ignore alarms."

"Yeah, I've noticed." He always hid something in that smile. "That's because you're so used to it that instead of turning it off again, you snoozed."

"Oh?" A real laugh this time. "God, I've been so stupid for the last week."

He looked at you as if to say you were cute instead of stupid. You reached for the bedside drawer with the phone in your hand but he stopped you.

"You're gonna cancel the alarm?"

"Yes."

"How many times does the alarm go off before it automatically goes off?"

"Um... I think it's 7?"

"So it's gonna go off 6 more times?"

"Mhm."

"Okay, so how many minutes does the snooze last?"

"Five."

"Good."

"What's on your mind?"

You smiled together, his was much dirtier. "Do you wanna play a game?"

"What kind of game?" asked curiously.

"It's like..." he licked his bottom lip. "Only when the alarm stops going off, you can touch me" whispered. "And I'll touch you."

"Wow."

Your body warmed up to what he was offering you, his little games and his cheekiness.

You realized that the game he was talking about would give you both heaven and hell, he let you think about it. He always liked to start fires.

You crawled towards him, he watched you curiously. Seeing in his eyes the endless desire he had for you. The only good thing about all those stupid days and weeks was that Choi Beomgyu belonged to you.

“I think the second alarm is less than 5 minutes away.” you whispered. Your foreheads touched, fortunately you liked playing with fire as much as he did.

His smile slowly left his face during the whole conversation. He put his hand on your cheek and joined your lips passionately. Your hair caressed his face, your bangs tangled. You listened to the wet sounds of your slow and warm kiss. And his humming.

Sounds were Beomgyu's weak point, he always went wild to hear more.

He bit your lower lip “Come here.” grabbed your hips and helped you sit on his lap.

This time he pressed your tongues together before your lips and you knew he wasn't closing his eyes. His hand moved down into your shorts and touched your bare cheeks. His palm was warm.

Your teeth touched his upper lip. Beomgyu opened his mouth and closed his eyes, letting you bite him as much as you wanted.

You squeezed his hair at the nape of his neck as his right hand slipped between your thighs and reached your pussy. He pressed his middle and ring finger against your hole through the panties and not even a few seconds into feeling that sweet pressure, the annoying sound was heard.

Second alert.

Beomgyu slowly pulled his hand out of your shorts and your whole body trembled with disappointment. You took your hands off him and got off his lap, reached for your phone and snoozed the alarm.

Beomgyu's cheeks were pink, he didn't like the space in his lap, but there was still a smile on his lips. “Do you like it?”

You leaned your back against the headboard and hugged your legs. You watched as he put his fingers to his lips, wet from having just touched your panties.

His cat tongue appeared between his lips, wiped his middle and ring finger nicely and went back inside.

My god. You gulped, looking like he was waiting for an answer to his question.

Really? He followed curiously as your hands moved down to your shorts. You locked your eyes on his as you slowly removed the soft fabric from your legs.

Beomgyu pressed his lips together and immediately looked into your eyes after your shorts fell to the floor. He wasn't smiling anymore, he was just there looking at you with his messy hair and going a little insane.

His eyes widened when your hand went to your hips again. “No.” Beomgyu growled. But what could stop you?

“Y/n...” He watched with his open mouth as your thin black underwear made its slow journey down your legs. Your t-shirt covered your thighs and you licked your lips, ending the show you were putting on for him.

You were happy to do such a good job while wanting his hands all over you. Beomgyu pressed his hand to the bulge in his pants and backed up a little. Cursing silently, closed his eyes and threw his head back.

By now your hands were sweaty and your t-shirt was a rag in your palms, you bit your lower lip excitedly. The sound of your phone letting you know that the stupid time you'd been trying to count in your head over and over again had come to an end.

And God knows, it was the first time you liked that brain-piercing sound so much.

Third alarm.

Beomgyu didn't even let you move. When he was on top of you with a speed you had never seen before, you squeezed his shoulders impatiently, but he wasn't thinking the same thing.

He pulled you down and holding your knees, spread your legs and buried his face in your pussy.

“Oh my-” at the end of a hellish five minutes, you regained the warm sensation of his mouth.

“B-beomgyu...” grabbed his hair. He repeatedly opened and closed his mouth over your hole as if his life depended on it.

He was squeezing and lifting your hips and making you settle better in his mouth, he was the best at it.

“Mmm” All those sounds he was making from you as your juices mixed with his saliva, almost making him cum too.

He parted your lips with his fingers and stubbornly pressed his tongue deep inside you. Just like he needed it more than you did.

He lifted his head and watched you drip a little more intensely and looked at that wonderful expression on your face. With his right hand he slapped your pleasure spot hard, “Ah!” that made you squirt a little. That's exactly why you felt you couldn't take it anymore when he landed the second slap harder. “Beomgyu, no-” you didn't want to cum right away but you wanted him to make you squirt like crazy.

You got up on your elbows, Beomgyu stuck his tongue out, looking into your eyes as his mouth covered all over your pussy again.

Well, you wouldn't mind coming more than once tonight, would you?

Just as your stomach is trembling with pleasure and you feel one step closer to the high...

Fourth alarm.

"Fuck! Fuck..." you turned toward the phone and snoozed the alarm with a tap, almost as if you wanted to break it.

The sensation of his mouth disappeared. Beomgyu is a total stunner with a dripping chin, teary eyes and red lips.

He put his hands in his messy hair, combed it back and returned to a sitting position on the bed. You could see him panting with rage, pulled his shirt off and threw it on the floor.

It was his idea and you were having fun, but now you can see he hates himself.

As you sat up, Beomgyu turned his head towards you and watched your glistening thighs. His art.

You didn't feel the need to fix your messy hair like he did, just leaned your head back and sighed as your pussy throbbed like crazy.

You took turns looking at his thin bracelet, his hair tucked behind his ear, his naked upper body and the triangle in his pants.

"I hate myself." Beomgyu laughed and made you laugh too. Both laughed at what a sucker you were to each other.

You touched the hair clinging to your neck, only your breathing could be heard in the room. You had never been eaten so savagely by Beomgyu before.

"You're gonna take that off too?" he taunted, knew there was nothing under your shirt. His hand settled on his belt, it was obvious he wished for nothing more than to see you naked. And that you didn't like the space between your legs.

"No." you replied, "This is for you."

Beomgyu laughed, you could see what you had done to his cheeks.

You watched him unbuckle his belt, he didn't just throw it on the floor, he ran his fingers over its surface.

The few scenarios in which he used it on you unfolded as if they had always been there. Pressed your knees together, your vagina, sensitive as hell, made a wet sound and that made Beomgyu turn to you.

You've never seen his eyes so dark before: "Can you do it again?"

The voices...

Swallowed, his eyes were on your knees and thighs, everywhere. Slowly spread your legs and... 'Pop!'

He watched all over your vagina, which was soaked thanks to him, getting a little closer. "You're a fucking goddess." His breath hit your pussy, your eyes watered with desire. "Beomgyu..."

Eyes met, you felt your nipples itch as he smiled at the needy expression on your face.

He stepped back, dropped the belt he was holding and continued to watch you, that smile still on his face. "Your pussy has never tasted anything like this before, has it darling?" licked his lips, looking quite delighted. "Even if I let you sit on my face all night, you wouldn't get tired of dripping, right?"

"Beomgyu-" his dirty words coming out of his still glistening chin made you drip some more on your sheet, you pulled your legs towards you and hid.

"Ahah," Beomgyu laughed, looking down at your writhing body with pleasure. "Even if the fucking alarm doesn't go off, I can make you cum with my words."

You pressed your face into the pillow, Beomgyu followed your movements, wishing he was right behind you now. "You're such a good girl."

Guessed he was pressed against his cock again.

Fifth alarm.

You lifted your face and threw the pillow on the floor, Beomgyu didn't let you break your prone position and settled on top of you. He lifted your hips up and stood behind you, just as he had just imagined.

When his penis finally touched your vagina, you gave him your most beautiful moan ever. Closed your eyes as Beomgyu slowly entered you. All his hardness expanded you, hitting your clit, sliding over your wetness, filling you mercilessly...

Your immediate grip and squeeze caused Beomgyu to fall onto your back. "Ah, ah..." You swallowed almost too well for him to move. He put his hands on top of yours, his hot breath coming in behind your ear. At this point you both forgot about your little game, there was only desire and passion.

Beomgyu introduced you to his fastest tempo, your bodies started pounding against each other. Both of you smeared all your wetness on each other.

Beomgyu was trapped between your walls, forgetting the whole world and making you forget the whole world.

The electric sensation in your stomach again, the sound of the alarm you heard along with Beomgyu's growl, could not be prevented this time.

He reached for your phone and, cursing, turned off the alarm, threw it hard onto the bed. You laughed at the sound the phone made as it slipped over the sheets and landed on the floor.

Eyes closed with passion, Beomgyu returned to rummaging through you. Faster, faster pace.

With great pleasure, your boyfriend broke his own game and made you cum all over him and came deep inside you.

He put his face to your neck, felt the last wave of pleasure as the sound of your breaths fought.

"C-condom-"

"Fuck the condoms."

The taste of fucking with him raw for the first time.*

Beomgyu wrapped his arms around your waist and made you lie on his chest as he lay on his back on the bed. He found your hands, which you made into fists, and took them in his palm.

You've watched the ceiling many times on this bed, but now enjoy watching it as you lie on top of him.

"Did your phone break?"

~

!! do not 'fuck' the condoms, USE the condoms🖖!!

©dr-solomon 2024

#txt smut #txt hard hours #tomorrow x together imagines #txt imagines #txt scenarios #choi beomgyu smut #beomgyu smut #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu scenarios #txt fanfic #tomorrow x together smut #choi beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu hard hours

[allfearstofallto]

I like writing Yandere Scaramouche as someone with a lot of rules because I like to think about how he enforced said rules.

Getting you to call him "my lord" instead of any other name you'd referred to him by was his first course of action. Scaramouche was already a man wound tight like a string about to snap, he believed that he only had to tell you once to get something done. Anything after that would result in a punishment of some form.

But Scaramouche has a soft spot in his heart for you. He does want you around after all. So when he comes to you that first day, when your big eyes are looking around your bedroom scared and shaking, but somehow still managing to shoot a glare at him, he smirks. You're like a little dog, you could bite any second, but you'd look so cute while doing it. Therefore, he decides to train you like a dog.

"Outside of this bedroom, you will only refer to me as 'my lord.' Understood?" this was your one and only time being told, and despite the fact that you scoffed and begged to go home instead of listening to what he said, he knew you'd think on his words eventually.

The next day you were free to roam his manor. You were mostly looking for your escape, testing doors and windows to see if maybe there was a way out, but your arrival was planned for many months before, even if he had less time to prepare the house for you, there wouldn't be an escape.

With his arms crossed, he watched as you tried to open the door to the back garden, locked of course. Even if you did manage to get out, eight armed guards were placed all through out the area, with orders of capture not kill in regards to you. You'd be dragged back before you even had a taste of freedom. But he didn't tell you that.

"You didn't eat today," he stated plainly. Your first meal in his home and you didn't even take a single bite of it. Even he, who did not need food to survive, didn't enjoy watching such a lavish dish go to the trash.

"You must think I'm stupid, Scaramouche-" your little huff of rude words was stopped in its track by his fingers hitting your lips. Your attitude was another issue he'd need to work on, but he wanted to fix one problem at a time.

It didn't hurt, the way the back of his hand met your mouth. Didn't even sting a little. It just felt demeaning. Like you were an animal being scolded and not a person. He did this every time you opened your mouth to call him anything, but his preferred title, and when you spewed profanities at him, he tap your lips a bit harder.

With a huff, you finally decided to call him, "My lord" after many disrespectful taps against your lips spanning over many days. Annoyance finally made you to decide to allow him to win this one, much to your dismay and his pleasure. Your reward for doing as you were told was a gift of sweets and confections, a treat you weren't given because of his vocal distate for such things.

You are them with your arms crossed and your eyebrows knitted, glaring at him as he watched you eat. That little attitude of yours was going to be the next to go.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere x you #yandere genshin x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #yandere imagines

[mangowafflesss]

PART 3 TO THE EX WIFE

This is the final part, I hate this but whatever I don't care :) Love to everyone who read this <3

Part 1 , Part 2

It had been a couple of days since you had kicked out John and his bitch of an ex. It was peaceful but very quiet. There was more room for your mind to start spiralling into thoughts, so you either had music playing through your speakers or the tv on throughout the day, just to make it seem like someone was here with you in the house.  

You had the locks changed and also blocked all contact with him, yes it was hard but you believed it to be the best thing to do. No more temptation to let him back into your heart. He hurt you and now you had to heal from the wounds. 

However, John wasn’t giving up on you that easily. He would show up to your house daily, knocking, wanting for you to listen to him. But why should you? He wouldn't listen to you, no matter how many times you expressed how much you wanted him to get rid of his ex.  

Today was Saturday. You were fresh out of the shower and heard repeated knocking on your front door. Choosing to ignore it, you did your usual routine before the knocking reached a point where your eye was borderline twitching. 

With a huff, you turned on your heel and charged through the house. When you got closer to the door, the louder the thumping got. “Fuck off John!” you yelled but the sound was relentless. 

Unlocking the door, you twisted the handle and yanked it open “Will you stop before you break down my damn door” you say but when the person on the other side isn’t John, your angry temper fizzles a little but not much. 

“John’s not here” you go to shut the door but his arm stops you and you roll your eyes before opening it again. 

“Where is he?” 

“Don’t know. Don’t care” you say with a shrug and watch as he looks past you and into your house. “I’m being serious Simon. His car isn’t even here” you point to the empty spot next to your car on the drive and feel your lip quiver for a second. 

No. You were done crying for him. 

“Did something happen?” he asks and you cross your arms over your chest “As if you don’t already know. You’re probably one of the first people he would’ve told. Is that why you’re here? He gave up begging so he sent one of his men to do it for him” you scoff while he stands there looking confused. You don’t think you ever seen such emotion on him. 

“I haven’t heard from him in a week. I have no idea what’s going on” he says truthfully and you’re shocked. 

“Really?” He nods his head and you believe him. “Why don’t you tell me about it? Whatever it is sounds like he’s in the wrong” you contemplate it for a while before stepping to the side and letting him inside of your home. 

A couple of weeks later, Simon had been coming over a lot more. He expressed his hatred for what John did to you. You were confused at first, he was the closest thing Simon had to a family. They were friends, comrades. It was strange at first, but you were glad to have someone on your side, telling you how much John had fucked up. 

One night, you were laying on the sofa and stretched out your legs. They landed in Simon's lap and you had apologised before pulling them back to your recent position, but Simon had grabbed your legs and put them back into his lap mumbling something like “You’ll get cramp” but the way his fingers brushed against the skin of your calves made a fire inside you ignite. Maybe it was from the lack of touch from someone but it was all you could think about the entire night until he left to go back home. 

When he returned to your house a couple days after, you kissed him. It was a rushed decision but the way he kissed you back made you realise that he wanted this as much as you. 

From there on out, your relationship got more physical. You would grab him as soon as he walked through the door. Him scooping you up into his arms, dropping the things in his hands to the ground in the process.    

A month and a half later, you were in bed. Legs spread with a head settled in between them. Your hands gripped onto his dirty blonde strands as he ran his tongue up your sopping cunt. “Fuck Si-”  you moaned as he sucked on your clit making you buck your hips and push his head further down onto you. You felt as if you were in heaven, floating on a cloud as he devoured you.    

Well you were in heaven until you heard knocking at the door. That fucking door will be the death of you. 

“Ignore it” Simon grunts before pushing two thick digits into you, making you hum and forget about anything for the moment. 

The doorbell started to ring and you huffed angrily. “It's him” you groaned while covering your face with your hands but Simon continued to swirl his tongue, happily lapping you up. 

You weren't going to be able to come like this. “Simon stop” you say regretfully and he pulls his fingers from you making you whine at the loss of them. 

You had to deal with this or else you’ll never do it. Sighing, you get up off the bed and put on your robe. Before leaving the haven of your room, you press a kiss to Simon's lips “We’ll continue this when I get back” you feel him smile against your lips before slapping your ass and falling onto his back on the mattress. 

You pick up the documents on the kitchen counter and walk to the front door where John stands. He looked rough but you didn’t care as you shoved the envelope at him. 

“Make sure you sign them John”   

He held them in his hand and looked up at you with sorrowful eyes. “Sweetheart, is there anything I can do to save this. Please”  

“No John, I never will listen to anything you have to say ever again” your voice had no emotion in it, you were done. Finally done. 

You heard footsteps behind you and felt a kiss was placed on the top of your head. John looked shocked at the sight of Simon but nodded to himself “I’ll sign them” he sounded broken and you felt a sense of relief. 

Before he left, he looked to Simon and spoke once more “Look after her will you?” you felt Simon pull you softly backwards and stood in the doorway blocking you from view. “I’ll do a lot more than you ever have” is all he says before slamming the door and locking it. 

He turns around with a smile decorating his face and mischievous glint in his eye. “Now that's dealt with.  Where were we?” you grin before sprinting back into the bedroom to continue what was so rudely interrupted. 

Tags: @knightofsexyness, @sleepyoriana @odettecigno @thigh-o-saur @blackhawkfanatic @hotvinimon @ghostlypatrolstranger, @nadinesabre, @v1x3n, @dakotapaigelove, @butchers-girl, @mayadarlings <3 <3

#captain john price x reader #price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty

[writerpetals]

games | 🔞

; optional male lead smut |  ☁️

a/n: i, of course, do not condone solving an argument this way irl at all, no matter how small or silly, but it is hot to think about as a fantasy... hehe

The sound of a door clicking behind you as you lay on your stomach across the sofa doesn’t faze you one bit. Your eyes never tear away from the phone screen you’re engulfed in and even a call of your name renders no response. The one that entered is now huffing and rolling his eyes as he calls for you a second time, and a third, and you grin to yourself since you’re an expert in ignoring him by now.

You’re not even sure why you’re acting so childish. You remember getting irritated at him (maybe he left his clothes everywhere to which you give him the silent treatment until he learns his lesson, because he sure as hell won’t listen to you) and bickering a bit before he left the apartment, and now you’re finding joy in his annoyance since he finally knows how you feel to become so fed up.

“Are you going to answer me?” You hear his foot stomp against the wooden floor, but you only release a sigh and press your thumb to your phone and scroll down the page. “Are you hungry or not? I’m going to get us dinner. Have you eaten?”

No response from you, only nibbling on your bottom lip while hoping he remains behind you so he can’t see the grin you’re trying your hardest to hide. What is it about his flustered state that has you so giddy? Well, you’re not sure, but he sure as shit doesn’t care how irritated you get when he leaves his mess, so maybe he’ll think twice next time.

However, your plan more than backfires when you feel his weight over you, legs pressing to each of your sides as he straddles your body on the couch. Before you can even release a gasp, his chest presses to your back as a muffled release of his name fills the room.

But it doesn’t stop him from whispering in your ear, voice deepening with every word. “You want to ignore me, baby?” He nearly groans the last syllable, with his body pinning you to the couch and his hands finding their way up your thighs. Damn you for picking to wear the flimsiest skirt today. “Do you want to play games?”

He pulls away, and you think that’s that, until your skirt is being pushed up over your ass and he’s hooking his fingers into the elastic of your panties. Another gasp slips from your lips as he yanks the thin fabric down to your thighs, all before gripping your hips to lift your lower body from the couch just a bit.

“Do you still wanna ignore me?” he asks with a certain bite to the words, so beyond frustrated and before you can even think of answering, his palm comes down against your ass cheek. The first hit is light, serving as nothing but a warning to answer him.

“N-no,” you mutter, the word releasing in a moan as your flesh stings and God, you would be lying if you even thought about saying you didn’t want it. In an instant, your body aches for him, dying to be touched without warning and the simplest of his touches drives you crazy with desire. Without saying another word, he places a palm on each of your ass cheeks to spread your folds apart, and you shiver beneath his gaze, hearing him groan behind you. Please…”

“Oh, you only want to answer me now because I have your skirt pushed up and panties down to your thighs, huh?” You can see him licking his lips in your mind, each of his words strained on his tongue as he speaks and it only makes you tremble against the couch. “What was that, baby? What did you say?”

“Please.” Gulping, you allow his ego to grow if only because of the heat between your thighs that began the moment he straddled you.

A soft chuckle leaves his lips a moment before easing the knuckles of two fingers down your slit, feeling how wet you’re beginning to get. A groan follows as he watches you push your hips toward him, however you’re restrained by his legs and can only react so much. Yet the position is more than pleasurable, with him loving to watch you struggle with his teasing the moment he gets his hands on you and with you dying for him to continue.

You whimper once again, growing too impatient and now you realize the irony as he teases your slit with his fingers just so you’ll talk to him.

“Hm?” he hums, and you can hear the smirk on his lips from the smallest of noises. “Is there something you want, baby?”

Put your goddamn fingers in me, is what you really want to say, but you know he is in control and you wouldn’t dare not have him finish you off just because you snapped at him. “Please, make me come,” rolls off your tongue and it’s enough for him to press his index finger to your dripping entrance, all before easing the digit inside to earn a gasp.

Another attempt at pushing your body toward him fails and he chuckles once again, slowly pumping his finger in and out to coat his skin with your arousal. Clutching what you can of the sofa beneath you, the desire to beg him for more seems tempting, wanting to feel full of his fingers and full of bliss, but only knowing it’s exactly what he wants.

So he continues teasing you, painfully slow thrusts of his finger in and out to work you up, and by the time you’re shaking with a lack of patience, he finally grips your ass once again before easing two fingers inside of you. Your walls tighten around the digits, another loud gasp filling the living room to feed his ego, but you can’t care in the moment. He pushes his fingers deep, making you cry out his name once he curls them inside of you.

Thrusting them in and out gently, he finds a pleasurable rhythm of finger fucking you and caressing the tips of his fingers against the spot that has your legs quivering beneath him. You attempt to keep your volume under control, but completely fail the moment he reaches with his opposite hand to press his thumb to your clit. Dizziness takes over and is drowned out by bliss as soon as he begins circling your clit with his thumb, keeping his pace with his fingers inside of you and causing you to whimper in pleasure.

You cry out, eyes screwing shut, “d-don’t… st-stop.” You can hear how wet you are each time he thrusts his fingers back in, knowing your thighs and the leather beneath you will become a complete mess, but the pleasure filling you is too intense to stop, and he definitely loves the view.

“Don’t stop?” he repeats, and you would have known something was up if you weren’t soaring on cloud nine with his hands between your thighs. “So are you going to ignore me from now on?”

“N-no,” you answer, trembling as you feel your toes and fingers tingling. “No, I won’t, please don’t stop.”

“Are you going to talk to me when there is a problem?” As he speaks, his motions become quicker, more intense, and it makes the room spin around you, barely even being able to answer him.

“Y-Yes, Oh my God, yes. Just don’t… don’t stop.” You breathlessly moan each and every word as your legs begin to twitch beneath him and, even though he has you pinned, you try again and again to push your hips against him to get more.

“Good girl,” is all he says, just as you feel the tension pull so tight it’s about to snap, just as you feel the warmth swelling between your thighs, and just as he pulls his fingers from within, leaving you dripping and dying for more.

“Huh?” He lifts himself from your body, allowing you to twist and glare at him just in time to see his fingers slipping past his lips to taste you. He releases the digits with a pop and a smirk, and the rage soon takes over the pleasure that was once filling you. “What the fuck?”

He shrugs. “I just wanted you to talk to me.” And the reply has you jumping up, reaching for your panties to cover yourself, only until he grips your wrists to stop you.

“What?” You huff, brows furrowing and bottom lip protruding, until he pulls you closer, causing you to fall onto his lap.

“Did I say I was done with you, baby?”

#bts smut #nct smut #got7 smut #monsta x smut #stray kids smut #harry styles smut #bts scenarios #stray kids scenarios #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #the boyz smut #the boyz scenarios #ateez imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt smut #bts x reader #stray kids x reader #ateez x reader

[paigesluver]

distraction

pairing; paige x fem! reader

synopsis; paige finds any way to distract you. 

warnings; fluff

a/n; this was a request! i was listening to kehlani and distraction started playing so i hope you enjoy it!

Paige leaned casually against the locker room wall, her eyes fixed on you with a mixture of admiration and playfulness. You were lacing up your shoes with focused determination, and she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride knowing she was about to take the court alongside you.

"Hey ma," Paige greeted with a grin as she strolled over to you. "Feeling ready to dominate out there today?"

Your eyes met hers, a flicker of excitement dancing in your gaze. "Absolutely. With you by my side, how could we lose?"

Paige chuckled, her grin widening as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Well, just remember, if you ever need a distraction out on the court, I'm your girl."

Your laughter filled the locker room, a symphony of affection and camaraderie. "Paige, you know I need to stay focused during the game."

"Of course, yes ma'am," she replied with a playful wink. "But a little distraction never hurt anyone, right?"

Before you could respond, Geno's commanding voice reverberated through the locker room, calling for the team to gather round for a final pep talk. Paige shot you a quick grin before joining the huddle, leaving you to shake your head in fond exasperation.

As the game began, the familiar rush of adrenaline flooded your veins, and you took to the court with determination. The cheers of the crowd melded into the background as you and Paige moved in perfect sync, a seamless display of teamwork and skill.

But amidst the intensity of the match, Paige's voice was a constant presence, a reassuring reminder that you weren't alone out there on the court.

"Hey, superstar! Pass it over here!"

You couldn't help but steal a quick glance towards Paige, who was flashing you a smirk as she called for the ball. Without hesitation, you sent a precise pass her way, and she deftly caught it before returning it to you with a swift flick of her wrist.

With the ball in your hands, you took a split-second to line up your shot, the hoop seeming to loom larger than life in front of you. With a deep breath, you released the ball, watching with bated breath as it sailed through the air in a perfect arc.

And then, as the crowd held its breath, the ball swished through the net with a satisfying swoosh, a triumphant three-pointer that sent the crowd into a frenzy of cheers.

As the final buzzer sounded and the team celebrated yet another hard-earned victory, you sought out Paige amidst the jubilant chaos, a grateful smile on your face as you caught her eye. Because while she may have been a distraction at times, she was also your partner, your confidante, and your greatest ally on the court. And for that, you were endlessly thankful.

#paigesluver #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #paige bueckers #paige x reader #paige bueckers x fem!reader

[johnnysuhbmarine]

What's my Problem? That's Easy, You.

Pairing: Haechan x reader Description: There’s no one on this planet that you hate more than your roommate’s best friend, Haechan, and he hates you back just the same. Though, sharing a best friend meant you had to see him all the time. When giving into one impulse desire ends with the two of you making out, it quickly develops into a friends (or enemies) with benefits relationship that the two of you agree to keep quiet about. Surely nothing could go wrong, right?  Content warnings: swearing, insults, talk about sex, Haechan in skinny jeans, Haechan’s girlfriend (later ex) is really mean to him, lots of eye rolling and head shaking, sexual harassment from reader’s professor, death (not a main character but it affects Haechan), lots of making out…taking off shirts…etc, Haechan is hot and arrogant but kind of a loser when it comes to y/n (eventually), mention of a choking kink, corpse lyrics, they have sex but it’s closed-door/SFW, Haechan makes one really poor decision, angst with a happy ending. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything. Word count: 21,108 :) A/n: Happy Haechan day! This has been in the works for entirely too long, but I’m excited to finally release a longer fic rather than one shots. This was only written because I had to do something after seeing Haechan in the ISTJ dance practice video cause he’s never left my mind since. Shout out to @fullsunstrawberry for listening to me talk about this fic instead of me actually writing it. Hey bestie, *waves* it’s finally finished :) Please enjoy, or don’t…I can’t tell you what to do. As always, feedback would be GREATLY appreciated :)

You open the door to your apartment-style dorm room, and when you see a figure on the couch, you assume it’s your best friend and roommate, Jessica. The two of you met in a class last year and you were over the moon at the idea of rooming with her for the rest of university rather than the roommates you currently had at the time. However, instead of laying eyes on your best friend, it’s a guy you’ve never seen before, casually sprawled out on your couch. You jump in surprise and furrow your eyebrows as you address his presence. “Wha- who are you?!”

He moves his gaze from the TV up to where you were, still at the door. “Haechan…Jessica’s best friend? I’m sure she’s talked about me. Who are you?” He replies in a condescending tone, looking completely unenthused to be talking with you and, within seconds, you were beginning to feel much the same. You shake your head, annoyed.

“No, I’m the one who lives here so I’m asking the questions. What are you doing here? How did you get in?” You ask, though now just wondering how long it would be until he left. 

He looks at you as though you were stupid, like talking to you was a waste of his time. Regardless, he gives you somewhat of an answer. “Are you dense? I’m hanging out with Jessica today. She let me in before she went back to go get ready.”

You freeze, anger coursing through your veins at the audacity of this guy. “I’m not dense. God, I hate people like you.” You spit back. Haechan raises his brows tauntingly. 

“‘People like me’ as in?”

“Arrogant dickheads whose brain power is just used to keep track of how many beds they’ve been in.” You finish, rolling your eyes before moving to set down your backpack and grab what you actually came back to your dorm for - your purse. You miss the devilish smirk that Haechan bears on his face, but you don’t miss the cocky laugh that escapes his figure before he speaks up again as you cross the room.

“Strange, I don’t remember bringing up my sex life before this. It must be on your mind then, huh?” He replies seriously, getting you to pause again. You ball your hands into fists, taking a few steps so that you were back in each other’s line of sight before arguing with him some more. 

“This is exactly what I’m talking about. You think everyone is thinking about sex with you. I hate to break it to you, but you’re not that attractive.” You say, more than glad when your last statement came out firm and serious…you typically weren’t good at lying.

Haechan lets out another laugh, stretching his arms up and bringing his hands together at the back of his head. “Yeah?” He questions lazily. “You’re not that hot yourself, sunshine.”

The nickname has your blood boiling. “Never call me that again. Besides, it doesn’t even make sense. You say I’m not hot and then call me sunshine. You know the sun is 15 million degrees Celsius, right?” You remark, but instead of making Haechan feel stupid, you seemingly gave him more ammunition.

“Oh,” he says as though he just figured out the answer to life. “So, you’re a nerd. I get it.” He adds, a stupid grin on his face.

You furrow your brows. “What?”

“You don’t get out much do you? Just spend all your time memorizing pointless facts and praying someone along the way finally has to find that attractive since you know you won’t pull a guy with your looks?”

You freeze, in a deadlocked stare with Haechan, both of your gazes filled with resentment. It wasn’t a pointless fact - you were an astronomy and physics double major, but saying that wouldn’t provide him with anything but more reason to call you a nerd, and the last thing you felt like doing was addressing the part about your looks. Instead, you shake your head, then motion to the purse you were now carrying rather than your backpack. “I’m going out right now, thank you very much. God. Tell Jessica to let me know whenever you’re going to be over. I’ll make sure to never be home for it. I don’t know how she can tolerate someone like you.” You spit out, turning to open the front door again.

“Right back at you.” Haechan replies, not letting up on his glare until the door’s completely closed again, then turning lazily back to the TV just as Jessica walks out from the bathroom.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you just talking to like that?” She questions, eyebrows raised, more than curious at the identity of who riled up Haechan like that.

Haechan shakes his head. “No, I wasn’t on the phone. Your roommate came in…and then left again.” 

Jessica’s face drops from curiosity to disbelief. “You were arguing with y/n like that?!”

Haechan shrugs. “If that’s the name of your irritating roommate, then yeah.” Jessica rolls her eyes, doing the mental calculations of how long this semester was going to feel with her two best friends hating each other.

When you get back from bar and trivia night with your friends a few hours later, your living room couch is back to just being occupied by Jessica. You smile at her as you walk in and lock the door behind you, but her face when you turn back around is more grave than you think you’ve ever seen.

“We’re gonna have to talk about you and Hyuck.” She says seriously, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

“Who the hell is Hyuck?” You laugh, and Jess just rolls her eyes playfully, nodding her head to motion for you to sit down next to her on the couch.

She looks you in the eyes intently. “Haechan.” She says, and your playful demeanor drops in an instant. “His real name is Donghyuck- but that’s besides the point. Look, he’s been my best friend for more than half of my life. He’s had an extra key to wherever I’m living every year of college so far…”

“No.” You answer firmly, and Jessica sighs.

“Y/n, he’s not a bad guy-” She starts, but you shake your head.

“I don’t care if he’s bad, I care that he’s the most aggravating person I’ve ever met. I don’t want him to have a key to this place.”

Jessica raises her eyebrows. “Not even if it doubles as a safety mechanism having someone other than the two of us be able to get in here should we need help?”

Technically, that could come in handy, but you don’t care. “No.” You reply, trying your best to be dismissive of the topic, but it’s apparently really important to Jessica.

“Y/n…” She says softly, and you roll your eyes with a huff of breath.

“Fine, but he’s not allowed to just come over whenever he’s bored. You two need to have set plans for him to use his extra key.” 

“Deal!” She says as she lights up, and you try to imagine yourself in her position - you’d probably want to keep the tradition of giving your best friend an extra key, too…though your other best friend wouldn’t be as annoying as Haechan. Regardless, you liked seeing Jessica happy, and if this was what it took, then so be it.

A week later, you and Jessica found yourselves sitting on the couch watching Bones, a typical after-homework routine. It became disgustingly less typical when your attention was turned to the sound of a key unlocking the door to your dorm. You hide your groan but nothing stops your eye roll as soon as you see Haechan. His gaze passes right over you as he greets Jessica, apparently his goal today was just to pretend you didn’t exist. You couldn’t be too peeved - the last thing you wanted to do was talk to him. However, you could be mad because you don’t remember Jessica saying anything about having plans with him today, and you watch as your one guideline for him having an extra key slips down the drain. 

Jessica doesn’t think anything of it, of course she wouldn’t, he’s one of her best friends. “Hey Hyuck, we’re watching Bones if you want to join.” She says neutrally. Somewhere along the line, Haechan must have figured out you weren’t just a demon in one of his nightmares, because you had the pleasure of being the subject of his reply.

“Not if she’s still going to be here, too.” He says sternly, causing you to scoff.

“I was here first, you dick.”

At your side, Jessica sighs, seeming to know exactly where this was going as Haechan’s eyes light with fire. “Okay idiot, and I was her friend first.” He spits back, making you clench your jaw…and a fist. A multitude of insults could be thrown your way and you would’ve brushed it off, but ‘idiot?’ That gets under your skin every time. Though, because you were Jessica’s best friend, she knew that, and immediately jumped to calm you down. 

“Okay…” She says, gently grabbing you by the shoulders and settling you back down into the couch. “Y/n, you are not an idiot, I promise. And Hyuck…” she continues, moving her flat gaze over to him. “You’re not a dick - though you make it very hard to defend you sometimes.” As Jessica finished, her gaze flicked back and forth between you and Haechan. The two of you shot your gaze off towards completely different walls of the dorm, refusing to look at the other even in the slightest. Jessica waited five seconds for either of you to say anything, but when that didn’t happen, she spoke up again.

“You guys are insufferable.” She begins with a sigh. “You know it’s my birthday this weekend. I was looking forward to being able to spend it with my best friends…all of them.” Her words are soft and you know she’s serious. Your shoulders drop.

“Where are you going with this?” You ask, immediately shutting your eyes in preparation for the answer you knew you wouldn’t want to face.

“Is it even in the realm of possibility for the two of you to get along for just one night? One dinner?” Jessica asks hopefully. You and Haechan finally whip your heads around to face Jessica, a matching look of terror on both of your faces.

“No.”

“Absolutely not.” You respond at the same time.

Jessica rolls her eyes, and you hate it because it meant your responses actually put her in a sour mood…and all you ever wanted as her best friend was for her to be happy. The horrible news is that she knew this, and used it to her advantage against the both of you. “If I put you on opposite sides of the table, could you at least be civil? For me.” She adds, the cherry on top of her already disheartened tone.

You and Haechan take one small glance at each other, enough to reach the same conclusion before you both respond. “Fine.” A smirk reaches Jessica’s face and you shake your head, getting up from the couch to instead find solace in your bedroom, letting Haechan take your spot without another word.

In what you thought was too little time, it was already the evening of Jessica’s birthday dinner. The dress code was fancier than you were used to, but all you had time for was one sigh at yourself in the mirror before Jessica was rushing you out the door. The two of you getting in the car must have been the trigger for her to start going over the game plan again, because the first thing she said as she pulled out of the parking lot of your dorm was, “there’s going to be thirteen of us there tonight. You and Haechan won’t be anywhere near each other, but even so, please just try and not hate him an overwhelming amount tonight.” 

You drop your head to face your lap with a laugh. “Don’t worry. You know me, you know the last thing on my mind is ruining your birthday. I’ll be good.” 

Her light laugh and nod in response let you know she believed you, and as she pulled to a stop light she looked your way for a moment. “You look gorgeous, by the way.” 

You roll your eyes but it doesn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. “Look who’s talking.” You say seriously. Your best friend was always gorgeous, but times like these it was hard to do anything but stare. Jessica shakes her head.

“Well, you know. ‘Dress to impress’ and all that.” She replies, and you whip your head towards her, your words coming out as though you were frightened.

“Who are you trying to impress? Please don’t tell me it’s Haechan. Oh my God. No. I can stand the two of you being friends but you cannot date him or I might die.” 

At this, Jessica rolls her eyes, taking time to laugh rather than save you from your worst nightmare. “Y/n, how many times have I talked to you about guys in a romantic sense? Has any of it ever been about Haechan? No.” She answers for you. “It’s always been about…” This time she drags off and leaves you to fill in the blanks yourself. You finally get over the horror that could have faced you and your mind clears, causing you to light up.

“Mark! Wait, Mark is coming?!” You ask excitedly, making her laugh some more.

“Yes, Mark is coming. We are really good friends, after all. I’m just thinking if he sees me all dressed up, he’ll finally realize he has to ask me on a date sooner than later or someone else will. I’m getting tired of waiting for his dorky ass.” She replies, and you raise your eyebrows - you know she would wait forever for Mark, not that she necessarily should, but she would.

The two of you arrive at the restaurant to find out you were the first ones there for the party and start on checking in for the reservation. Then, as you both turn around from the host stand, you’re greeted with Mark and Haechan walking in together. You’re sure Mark looked great, but you would be lying if you said you even took one look at him. Instead, all of your attention was on Haechan, his white button-up tightly hugging his body, the look complete with rolled-up sleeves. You did your best not to stare, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyways, he wasn’t paying any attention to you. Instead, he was now entirely engrossed in conversation with Mark and Jessica. You don’t even know if he knew you were here, and in that moment you realized tonight was going to prove a lot harder than you originally thought, because you hated Haechan an overwhelming amount. 

Thankfully, the rest of the party arrived soon after and you were all quickly seated, Jessica in the middle with you and Haechan at complete opposite ends as promised. Instead, you got to sit and talk with Winter and Jisung. Overall, you really couldn’t complain. Winter was one of the first friends you made on campus. On the other hand, you and Jisung had been partnered for a project one semester that saw the two of you sharing way too many 2:00 am coffees as you tried to squeeze the semester project into the span of two weeks - your friendship with Jisung feels more so like the result of trauma bonding, but you wouldn’t have traded it for the world. 

That being said, dinner went pretty smoothly. After eating your main course, you excused yourself to use the bathroom, but you didn’t even make it ten steps before you realized you were being trailed. As you step into the hallway where the doors to the restrooms were, you turn around to face Haechan. “Really? You couldn’t wait until I was back at the table?” You ask plainly. Haechan furrows his brows.

“I didn’t plan this. I didn’t even realize you had gotten up from the table. I wasn’t paying any attention to you.” He remarks, and you roll your eyes.

“Right, all you ever do is pretend I don’t exist. How could I forget?” You say sarcastically.

Haechan scoffs, shaking his head. “Well, all you do is hate me for existing, so I feel like it’s a pretty even balance. Besides, every time I acknowledge your existence, it ends up like this.” 

You pause for a moment, glaring at Haechan. Was it truly easier to pretend you didn’t exist rather than deal with the fact that you do. “I hate you.” You finally say. Haechan feigns surprise, moving a hand over his heart as if he’s just been shot. Though, his face neutralizes in an instant.

“I hate you, too. Can we get on with why we’re actually here now?” He asks, nodding his head towards the men’s room as he looks towards you with disinterest. You clench your jaw, not bothering to give him a verbal response as you walk into the ladies room, where you finally let yourself breathe again. 

The rest of the dinner party went by quickly, and suddenly it was just you and Jessica back in her car. “Well, that went really well!” She said, beaming. You could hardly match the enthusiasm, though.

“Yeah…”

She chanced a look over at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Did it not go really well?”

“It was fine.” You reply softly, shaking your head. You didn’t want to ruin the night now after appearing to have successfully made it through dinner.

“You two weren’t even around each other.” She says, her underlying tone letting you know how confused she was.

“We ran into each other by the bathrooms.” You say, shrugging in your seat.

Jessica grimaces. “Didn’t go well, I’m guessing.”

You let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “I don’t understand what his problem is.”

“He doesn’t have a problem.” Jessica replies with a light laugh, and you shoot your gaze over to her in question.

“Really? So, he’s just always a dick?” You ask, trying your best to keep your tone light while also letting her know that, if that’s normal Haechan, you were harshly judging her choice of friends.

Jessica smiles, a small laugh coming out that’s more so just an exhale. “No…but maybe the issue is just the fact that you hate him. Maybe if you were a little nicer to him, he would calm down, too.” She says, doing her best to be convincing, but you just shake your head.

“I don’t want to be nice to him. Not ever.” You say firmly, and surprising you, Jessica just shrugs lightly.

“Well, I tried.”

You frown, looking over at her in the driver’s seat. “Sorry…it was a really fun birthday party, though.” You say, hoping she knew that Haechan didn’t ruin your day and praying that in turn, you didn’t ruin hers.

There seemed to be no reason to worry, though, because at the mention of the actual dinner party, Jessica lit back up. “Oh, you don’t need to tell me. I had a blast, and you and Haechan took care of all your fighting off-screen. Doesn’t bother me any.” She replies with a laugh, getting you to lighten up, too. Creating cause for excitement in itself, conversation for the rest of the drive back had nothing to do with Haechan. Instead, you learned that Mark did, in fact, figure out that his window of opportunity was closing and now he and Jessica have an official date tomorrow. In other words, the two of you squealed the rest of the way home.

It was close to a week later when you next saw Haechan again. It took Mark and Jessica one date to realize that they wanted to make things official, so you ended up seeing Mark around much more often than Haechan for a little bit. Though on Friday, the familiar turn of the key in the door was heard while you and Jessica were watching Bones in the living room, and you knew your mortal enemy was making his comeback after six days. 

Jessica paused the TV and you immediately got up from the couch, bringing your empty bowl of ramen to the kitchen so you could start on cleaning it. Then, Haechan finally made his way through the front door. You don’t bother looking up to greet his presence, he never did for you anyways. However, in an instant, Jessica was off the couch and grabbed Haechan by the wrist, stopping him from sitting down. 

“You look like you’ve been crying.” She says as Haechan turns to look at her.

He shakes his head solemnly. “No, I’m fine. They just wanted me to try a new brand of contacts since my other ones got discontinued, but these irritate my eyes. I just haven’t had the chance to go back and switch brands again, and I’m not really in the mood to pay for more contacts and waste all the money I just spent on these.”

“Take them out.” She replies instantly, and Haechan lets out something of a forced laugh.

“Well that’s the thing, these are weekly contacts, and I don’t have a case or solution with me to store them…and I don’t want to buy all that just for me to possibly switch back to daily contacts again soon.”

Jessica lets his wrist drop, seemingly understanding. From the kitchen, you shake your head, not remembering when you became so invested in the first place. In an instant, you finish with your bowl and head to your room without a word. 

You lasted in your bedroom doing homework for about an hour, which, everything considered, you thought was pretty good, but then you couldn’t stand the constant noise anymore from the other side of your bedroom wall. You threw all of your things into your backpack, getting up and storming out of the room.

“Agh! I hate his guts! I’m going to the library.” You proclaim loudly as you step back out towards the living room. 

On the couch, Haechan looks over at Jessica. “She talks about me a lot, doesn’t she? I didn’t even do anything this time.” He says with a laugh, but you just glare at him.

“Grow up, not everything is about you.” You spit out before heading towards the door.

Jessica waits for you to be completely gone before she ever answers Haechan. “Ha, she’s actually talking about our neighbor on the right. Their bedrooms share a wall and he has an unrivaled sex drive. I think she was traumatized the first time she heard…it. Though now, it’s just extra noise and it irritates the hell out of her when she’s trying to study.” Haechan’s jaw drops in surprise, the corners of his mouth wavering as he tries not to laugh. Jessica shakes her head, a smile coming onto her face. “It’s a little bit funny.” She says, getting Haechan to finally break into a smile too before continuing their conversation from before you left. Though, with it being a Friday, it wasn’t too much longer before they themselves were out of the house, though their destination was the bar instead of the library.

The next few nights came and went, until suddenly it was Tuesday again, when Haechan and Jess typically grabbed dinner together. You were doing homework at the coffee table, figuring a change in scenery would help you focus - that and the fact that your neighbor on the right was having another fun night. Jessica was still getting ready in her room when Haechan walked in through the front door. From the couch, you move your gaze towards him, figuring out he’s been holding out on you when it comes to his clothes. Today, he showed up in a black t-shirt, totally normal and fine, though said shirt was tucked into blue skinny jeans, not totally normal nor fine. 

“You’re staring.” Haechan says, bringing you back to real life. You shake your head, finally meeting his disinterested eyes.

“You don’t need to wear skinny jeans ever again.” You say flatly, and Haechan just scoffs before letting a smirk cross his face.

“My girlfriend wouldn’t take kindly to you telling me what to do.” He replies, and the news of a girlfriend only shocks you for a second before you snap back.

“Girlfriend? Wow, maybe you’ll get less annoying now that you’ve found someone willing to suck your dick.” You say, your face lighting up, although your tone conveyed how little hope you actually had in that happening.

Haechan narrows his eyes at you, his smirk turning evil. “Oh, I have a long, distinguished list of willing volunteers. Have you found anyone willing to suck yours yet?”

“Very funny.” You reply monotonously. Haechan just rolls his eyes, about hitting his limit of words spoken to you for the day.

“Where’s Jess?” He asks, his typical disinterest when it comes to you now back in his tone. You shake your head before nodding it in the direction of her room, not wanting to bother with actually talking to him anymore, either.

The next week, a casual Thursday night that you and Jessica thought you had to yourselves was disrupted with a soft knock on the door, and Jessica moved from the couch to open it, promptly stepping back to let Haechan inside, and you hate the fact that his loophole to not using his front door key unless he actually had plans with Jessica was just to knock instead. He walks in normally, but Jessica grabs his forearm with raised eyebrows. “Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” She asks, considering the conversation from a little over a week ago.

You watch from the couch as Haechan visibly gulps, dropping his head to try and cover up his saddened expression. “...she doesn’t like when I wear them.” He states, and immediately you and Jessica both know he’s talking about his girlfriend. Despite never meeting her, you hated her guts. Ever since she got with Haechan, all she’s done is be toxic. You know so, because Haechan ends up at your dorm basically every night seeking comfort from Jessica after his girlfriend spends their dates degrading him the entire time.

You immediately pop up from the couch and storm to your room, slamming the door behind you, though that was more so accidental. How Haechan’s girlfriend treated him was none of your business, and not worth you getting worked up over, but his constant need to decompress in Jessica’s presence meant you had to see him a lot more than you would have ever liked, and that’s where you started having problems. If his girlfriend was actually nice and cared about him, you probably would have never had to see him again because he’d be spending so much time with her…it was your luck that the opposite happened. 

Almost two weeks passed of seeing Haechan every single day, and you started just strictly staying in your room any time past 5:00 to try and avoid seeing him completely. Though, when the next Tuesday rolled around, you were the one to open the door in response to the firm knocks. You knew Haechan and Jess were going out to grab dinner tonight, it was a weekly thing, so you didn’t understand why he couldn’t just use his key. In an odd turn of events, the first thing Haechan says as he steps through the door frame is ‘thank you.’ You stand there in shock, and he takes it as a sign that he needed to elaborate. “Sorry, I didn’t come from my house so I don’t have my extra key to this place.” He explains, but now you’re hardly listening to his words. Instead, taking the proximity provided by neither of you leaving the doorway to study his face with a frown. 

“Are you wearing makeup?” You question with furrowed brows. Surprising you, Haechan ducked his head, and his voice was weaker than you’ve ever heard as he responded.

“She said I have too many flaws on my skin right now and it was embarrassing her.” Your eyes widen. His girlfriend. His girlfriend, the reason he’s stopped wearing glasses and apparently the reason he has foundation and concealer covering his face right now. Your jaw clenches involuntarily. This is where you draw the line.

“Fuck that.” You spit out, grabbing Haechan’s wrist and dragging him to the bathroom with you.

He glances towards your physical contact before looking back up at you with scrunched eyebrows. “Y/n, what are you doing?” He asks as you place tons of different items on the counter.

“Taking off your makeup.” You reply sternly, and his eyes go wide.

“No, you can’t. Please.” He begs, and your heart chips a little. Your hand freezes above the water tap, sighing deeply in place of turning on the sink.

“Did you want to put it on or did she make you?” You ask softly, and Haechan’s face drops once again.

“She made me...” He replies in defeat, and you immediately turn the water on, much to his dismay. “You can’t take it off! I’m seeing her again tonight for something at her sorority!” His plea falls on deaf ears as you let the water warm up and start rubbing cleanser onto his face. You finally finish with your typical skin care routine for him, taking a step away to hang the washcloth to dry and start on putting your products away.

“If you want to wear makeup, that’s fine. But don’t ever come over here in makeup she’s made you put on again, or I’ll give you a reason to need concealer.” You say offhandedly as you finish and walk out of the bathroom with Haechan in toe.

“Did you just threaten to punch me?” He asks, a scoff accompanying it.

“Of course I did. I despise you. You’re an annoying prick, but I don’t need you feeling bad about yourself for any reason other than that…especially for something like this.” 

Haechan stares at you bewildered, trying to figure out if your words just meant what he thinks they did. “Y/n-”

“Have fun getting dinner with Jessica.” You cut him off, not giving his curiosity the satisfaction of an explanation. “Don’t worry about your girlfriend after…she won’t even notice. I gotta go do homework. Jess should be ready in a minute or so.” Then you were behind your closed bedroom door, fists clenched at your sides as you let anger run through your body. It wasn’t long before you heard Jessica come out of her room and start up a conversation with Haechan, and that was when you finally let yourself relax a little. 

Haechan was the one to start intentionally avoiding you after that. You figure you probably crossed a line that enemies don’t, but you don’t regret it. You and Haechan weren’t friends anyways, so it’s not like him now avoiding you really changed anything - it just made your own efforts to avoid him even easier.

So, about a month passed of you and Haechan avoiding each other, and when that wasn’t an option, sending each other nasty glares and rude remarks. You tried not to start anything, seeing as his girlfriend was doing enough damage to his mental health in the first place, but you still couldn’t back down and let him win if he started anything. Nevertheless, it was your birthday today and you were determined to make it as great as it could be, starting with not having Haechan anywhere near your thoughts. Instead, you were more focused on the three classes you had today, almost all of your brain power going towards making up scenarios for how your conversation with your last professor would go. 

As always, Dr. Choi never let your class out early, and you’re thankful you didn’t have a class following this or you would never get the time to ask him questions after. From your seat in the middle of the lecture hall, you made your way down to where his desk was set up, completely going against traffic as the rest of the students rushed towards the exits. As your footsteps grew closer to him, he looked up from his desk, a smile flashing across his face. 

“Ah, y/n. You look…” He starts, and you freeze as you withstand his eyeing you up and down. You should’ve known better than to imagine a case where this conversation went any differently. Dr. Choi habitually let his gaze linger on you too long, even if you were in a big t-shirt and jeans, but now here you were dressed up for your birthday. “Are you here to ask for extra credit?” He continues, and you slightly cringe in disgust. You were too used to it to have a bigger reaction, and you knew that if you didn’t play it cool, he would be uncooperative anyways.

Instead, you just shake your head lightly as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “No, I was wondering if you could open up the exam again so I can see which questions I got wrong.” You reply seriously. You got a 96 on the exam in question, and you’re sure no one who gets a 96 on a quantum mechanics exam ever takes the time to care about those 4 lost points…but it almost bothered you more than if you failed. You weren’t unprepared - all that a 96 shows is that there’s something you genuinely did not know, and not being able to look at the answers after grades were posted wasn’t helping you figure out what that was.

Dr. Choi’s reply is fast, monotone…deliberate. “Depends on if you open up your legs.” 

“Dr.-” You start flatly, but he’s quick to cut you off as his eyes light with fire.

“Into roleplay, are you?” He asks with a smirk, and if you were any less used to his behavior, you would have thrown up. Instead, you roll your eyes.

“No, Dr. Choi. You have a doctorate, so I’m being respectful. Is there any use in getting you to let me see the exam again?” You ask, staring him dead in the eye. His face loses its passion as he turns stoic, though maybe you could sense his disappointment in your dismissal.

“I told you my requirements.” He says somberly, and you just nod your head.

“Great. Thank you for your time.” You reply. Your walk out of class is natural in manner, but immediately once you get outside, your shoulders fall as you drop your head into your hands. You stand like that for only a moment to regain your composure, and then start up on your walk to your dorm. You had to get over it quickly and act like nothing was wrong. You still haven’t told Jessica about this professor. He was one of the heads of the physics department, so you’ve had to deal with him all the way up to now, and you’d have to deal with him after this course. You didn’t want Jessica to get all angry if there wasn’t anything you could do about it. So instead, you place a light smile back on your face and let yourself relax, knowing the rest of your birthday consists solely of time with your best friend - no vile professors, and no Haechan.

Another week goes by without a hitch, and so on Friday, you had spent most of the evening on the couch watching Bones. You had no homework and Jessica was out on a date with Mark for the night, not planning to get back until after 11:00. So, you figured you would occupy the living room rather than be huddled inside your bedroom hiding from Haechan if he had no reason to come over anyways. Though, it was only a little after 6:00 when the door to your dorm began to open, and you instinctively roll your eyes, knowing the only person it could be. “Jessica isn’t here, and frankly I’m gonna have to talk to her about you having an extra key-” You start as he opens the door, but then you finally see the state he’s in and worry begins to overtake your annoyance. “Haechan?!” You question, his tear-stained face a completely new sight to you.

His gaze has yet to be picked up off the floor, as he stands in complete defeat, his body shaking with sobs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know if she would be here or not, and I couldn’t take the time to text and ask.” 

You’re immediately up off the couch, though you’re still frozen in your spot a few feet away from him. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” You ask, trying to make your voice sound calmer than you felt in an attempt to get at least some control of the situation.

Haechan shakes his head. “No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have barged in. I shouldn’t be here.” He states, turning around to walk right back out of the door. He’s stopped though, by your firm tone.

“Lee Donghyuck, what is wrong?” This time, your question comes out more as a demand, and it’s enough to make Haechan freeze in his spot, dropping his hand that was reaching for the door knob. 

“My dad got in a car accident. He didn’t even make it through the ambulance ride.” He says, his words cut up by his cries. Your world stops, and you just stare at him. You were already really bad at comforting people, and this was the last thing you were expecting to hear, not to mention the last person you expected to be confiding in you.

“Hyuck…” You begin, but all you can do is fumble for words you know won’t come. Haechan gives you the pleasure of cutting you off.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” He replies, now fully crying again as he brings his hands up to cover his face. His sobs only silence for a second as he registers your touch. He brings his hands down to actually get visual confirmation that you were hugging him. You were standing in your living room and hugging your worst enemy, but you couldn’t just do nothing anymore. Your face pressed into his chest, you mumble out the best response you can muster.

“Here is just fine. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, and I’m sorry Jessica isn’t home to be the one to comfort you. I’m sorry it’s me, instead. I know you probably have other friends but…I’m watching Bones if you want to join. We can watch, like, an entire season if you want, and I’ll order your favorite food. If you want. I just- don’t really want you alone right now, and I’m scared that if I kick you out, you won’t ever find your way back out of your bedroom.”

At your words, Haechan seems to settle a bit more into the hug, using one sleeve of his hoodie to dry up his tears before replying. “Bones sounds good. What season are you on?”

You pick your head back out of his chest, staring up at him with a weak smile, hoping it conveyed just how grateful you were that he accepted your offer. “Just started season four. Come on.” 

You let go from the hug and motion for Haechan to find a place on the couch while you headed for the kitchen. While Haechan had been over more than you would have ever liked, your constant avoidance of him meant you had no clue what he actually liked. Instead, you stared at the open pantry with a frown before deciding to just grab all of your favorite snacks to share in hopes that he, too, enjoyed at least one of them. 

You place them all down on the coffee table in front of the couch, but suddenly you feel too awkward to say anything. So, you just make hesitant eye contact with Haechan for a second or two before he breaks away to actually look at everything you brought over. Though, because you’re still staring, you manage to catch the faint “thank you” that left his lips as he reached for a bag of chips. Despite yourself, the corners of your mouth perk up in a soft smile as you finally move to sit down next to him on the couch…a few feet away, but next to him.

It would have been completely quiet had the show not been on. Apparently you and Haechan were still really bad at being even acquaintances. Though, with the introduction of a new character, you quickly found your in.

“God, she’s had like, two minutes of screen time and I already hate Agent Perotta.” You say with a slight laugh, trying not to let it show how nervous you were to talk to him. Instead of glaring at you or pretending your input was the last thing he needed, though, he nodded a bit, smiling.

“Thank God you said it, because I hate her, too, but as a man I feel like saying it out of the blue would be distasteful.” He replies, and before you could stop it, you let out a heavy exhale of laughter. Immediately, your hand reaches up to cover your face, but Haechan had already whipped his head towards you. “Did you just find me funny?” He questions, the smile on his face growing.

You quickly shake your head, though your face wears a matching smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This conversation is about Agent Perotta.” You say, looking back at the TV.

Haechan flashes his eyebrows up for a moment before redirecting his attention back to the show as well. “Yeah, I hate that bitch.” He says flatly, getting you to nod.

“I think this is the first thing we’ve ever agreed on.” You say, letting the shock factor show in your voice.

Haechan shakes his head, smiling in disbelief. “Should’ve known it was going to be about hating someone. Pretty sure you hate everyone except Jessica. I mean, what are we at now?” He teases, beginning to count them off on his fingers. “Me, Agent Perotta, your neighbor on the right, your professor who makes sexual comments about you…”

Immediately you jump up from the couch, staring at him with the widest of eyes. “WHAT?! How do you know about that?”

You watch as Haechan just shakes his head quickly, as if his previous statement would erase like an etch-a-sketch. “Oh, sorry. He’s on my list of people I hate. Mixed them up.” He replies like it’s nothing, and you don’t know how he’s being so nonchalant about this.

“Hyuck, we don’t share that class, how do you know about that professor? I haven’t even told Jessica.” You ask again, the panic beginning to seep through your words some more. You didn’t know how he knew, you didn’t know if he was going to tell Jessica, you didn’t know if it would change the way he viewed you, you didn’t know why Haechan’s view of you mattered because it was already shit anyways…all of it made you anxious. 

Haechan hangs his head back, staring up at you from where he still sat lazily on the couch. “Please don’t worry about it. Forget I said anything.” He responds, his orders strict but his voice calm. You just shake your head once more.

“Hyuck-” You start, but this time he rolls his eyes, finally getting fed up with the conversation.

“I just wanna watch Bones! Can we make this day about me again? Hello, I’m sad and in need of a light-hearted distraction in the form of crime-solving.” He says, his volume already much louder than it just previously was. Typically, his whining would just make you want to punch him, but he was right, at least a little bit. He was the one with the bigger stressor, and while it wasn’t a competition in the first place, you did want this to be a comforting time for him, not one where you grilled him over his knowledge of your personal life.

“Agh, you’re so difficult!” You shout back, though placing yourself down on the couch again anyways.

Haechan flashes a quick smile in response. “Great! You hate me, we hate Agent Perotta, we’re back on track. Press play.” He says, moving his arms out towards the TV in a showy fashion that you hated. Though, with Agent Perotta back on screen, it did bring up another truth.

“...I hate you less than I hate her.” You say quietly, but with your focus back on Bones, you miss Haechan’s smartass smirk falling into something softer in response. Then, Bones is the only sound to fill the dorm again.

A few hours and entirely too much takeout later, the front door opens again as Jessica walks through. 

“Hey y/n, I’m home-” She starts, locking the door, but then she finally turns around to the living room and her jaw drops. “Hyuck?!”

“Hey!” You reply as though nothing were amiss. Jessica looks back and forth between you and Haechan more times than you could count, her eyebrows furrowed.

“You two are hanging out??” She questions, and Haechan just shrugs.

“I had a bad day. Needed some comfort.” He replies neutrally, but Jessica’s eyes just grow wider.

“So you decided to hang out with y/n? Who you typically can’t stand to be in a room with for more than 0.5 seconds.”

You shake your head with a small laugh. “Jessica, he came over to see if you were here.” You say, stating the obvious. It doesn’t help Jessica’s shock.

“But when he saw it was just you, he stayed?” She asks, and you’re pretty sure you saw the mania start to set in behind her eyes.

“We’ve been watching Bones.” Haechan says with a smile.

Jessica shakes her head in disbelief. “And neither of you find this strange?”

“We hate Agent Perotta.” You reply with a smirk, and suddenly a wave of clarity washes over Jessica.

“Ah, common ground. Makes more sense.” She says calmly as she starts making her way to the couch as well. “Well, mind if I join-” She starts, but then Haechan’s phone begins to ring and he’s up off the couch in an instant.

“My mom is calling. I have to go.” He says, and the sadness and worry that you had managed to kill over the past few hours reappears in his voice in no time.

“Hyuck?” Jessica questions, but he just shakes his head in dismissal.

“I have to go.” He restates, and then makes his way to the door. You watch from the couch as he starts to leave, probably to go drive to meet his mom - this late at night…driving. Panic erupts in your system.

“Haechan,” you cry out, scrambling off the couch. He whips his body back around to face you rather than the door. Without thinking, you wrap Haechan in a hug, speaking softly into his shoulder. “Be safe, okay?” 

Haechan lets out a small sigh, knowing exactly where your mind was at. Gently, he places his arms around you, as well. “I hate you less than I hate her, too.” He says softly in place of replying to your last statement. You freeze in his arms and he’s the first to let go, his phone beginning to ring again and reminding the both of you he had somewhere to be. He’s quickly out the front door, leaving you to just turn back around towards Jessica on the couch. 

“What was that?” She asks, completely confused again. You just shake your head.

“It’s really not for me to tell you. Haechan just…got really bad news today. But you’re his actual best friend, he’ll tell you as soon as he can, I’m sure. Then you can take over my role and do a much better job at comforting him or so help me God.” You reply, a small laugh accompanying the end of your sentence before you continue. “I’m gonna go get ready for bed, if you don’t mind. I hope your date with Mark went really well.” Jessica just nods from the couch, a little dumbfounded by your behavior if you had to guess, but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain any further. 

Within the following week, Haechan had told Jessica about his dad. However, he also told her another piece of news, which Jessica immediately relayed to you once she got back from hanging out with him. 

“Hey, just thought I would let you know that Haechan and his girlfriend broke up.” She says after entering your dorm. You look up at her from the kitchen table, eyes wide.

“What?!” You question with more emotion than you could have imagined, but with the situation with his dad, was this really when she had to break it off and hurt him further. Jessica doesn’t answer your question, probably because it was incredibly vague. Instead, she moves on to her actual point of telling you.

“So, he might be over even more often than before.” She says carefully, trying to gauge how pissed you were gonna be at that piece of news. You just shake your head.

“Did he say why they broke up?” You don’t know why you asked, you didn’t care, but Jessica didn’t seem to think any of it was out of the ordinary.

“No, but he’s pretty torn up about it, which sucks because we both know how horrible she was to him.” Right, regardless of what horrible timing this was because of his already sad state, his girlfriend, or ex, probably wasn’t helping anyways while they were together. You figure Haechan dodged a bullet with the relationship ending sooner rather than later. You nod in response, speaking through a sigh as the past memories and stories about his ex replayed in your mind.

“Yeah…”

Jessica seems to be doing the same, but she shakes out of it quicker than you. “I think I’m gonna take him out to the bars next weekend or something. I don’t have a lot of free time right now, but I figure he could use a night out.” She says neutrally, and you nod, letting her know you probably couldn’t come up with a better idea.

“Yeah.”

Then two weeks later, you were telling Jessica to be safe as she left for the bars with Haechan. She extended the invite, but you figured Haechan probably had enough of you trying to support and comfort him, so you just told her that you’d stay home and to call if they needed a ride back. At one in the morning, that call came, but it was from Haechan rather than Jessica, and as you pick up, you forget the entire reason they went out tonight, your mind running on autopilot once you see his name light up your phone screen.

“What do you want?” You ask, your disgust at his call hardly hidden in your voice. You immediately feel bad though when he responds and his tone is much gentler than the one you used for him.

“Hey, Jess was the one who apparently needed to unwind tonight, so I let her do all the drinking at the bar…too much, apparently. I was gonna drive her back to your place but she was concerned about ruining whatever image she thinks you have of her in your head, so instead of her getting sick at your place, I let her get sick at mine. She just got in the shower, but I gotta be honest, now that I’m home, I’m pretty exhausted. Do you think you could come grab her?” He asks, and for a moment, you smile softly. You could tell Jessica had been stressed the past few weeks, truly probably needing the night out more than Haechan, and it was comforting knowing that he didn’t drink so that he could look out for her at the bar and back home. 

You nod your head before realizing he couldn’t see it, and then you speak up, much softer than before. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon. Send me your address.” You say, then hanging up and grabbing your things to head his way.

Haechan opens the door in response to your knocking, the familiar bored expression back on his face. “You got here quicker than I thought you would…Jessica is still in the shower.” He states, as though your early presence was a huge inconvenience. You don’t pay attention to his tone, though. Your mind focuses on his clothes as you unintentionally scan his body up and down.

“Skinny jeans, huh?” You question with a straight face, meeting his eyes again as he smirks down at you.

“Well, I knew there was a high probability I’d see you tonight so I thought it would be fun to torment you-” You don’t know what came over you, but surely it wasn’t your fault. You told him not to wear skinny jeans ever again, and he did so just to spite you. Somehow, it all made him really hot, and you find yourself cutting off his words as you press your lips to his. You pull away quickly, shock covering both your faces as you simply stare at each other, eyes wide and breath heavy as you process what you just did. 

You swallow hard, trying to remedy your suddenly dry throat. Your courage to look him in the eyes diminishes within milliseconds, and you drop your face towards the floor, which seemed to irritate Haechan to no end because as soon as your gaze met the floor, he walked the one step back over to you, grabbing your jaw to the point where it almost hurt and forcing you to look his way again. Then he kissed you harshly, and you fell right in line. 

There was no romance in the kiss. Instead, something like lust had your tongues fighting for dominance with each other as your hands tried to memorize every part of Haechan’s body. The two of you moved with intensity, stumbling around the room because you couldn’t possibly stay still with the amount of passion embedded in this kiss. The first time you remember breaking away wasn’t so you could take a breath. You were fine never needing oxygen again. Instead you broke away to pull his shirt up over his head, discarding it to the side without much care. You immediately press your lips back onto his, but he’s quick to pull back this time, looking at you with a shake of his head as his eyes move back and forth between your two bodies.

“No fair!” He complains, causing you to roll your eyes before removing your own shirt to reveal your black lace bra because the universe was apparently on your side when you got dressed today. You watch his adam’s apple bob up and down as he takes you in, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “No fair…” He whispers before rushing to close the distance between you two again, but this time, his lips don’t land on yours. Instead, they find your chest as his hands squeeze at your waist. You throw your head back in response, giving Haechan the ability to leave a trail of kisses from your chest up your neck, stopping in the middle to nip at somewhere near your collarbone before his continued exploration, and you thank God that Jessica has the shower running to cover up the moan it produced from you. He kisses up your neck and jaw before eventually finding his way to your lips again, and you waste no time getting your tongue back in his mouth. Before you know it, he’s picking you up, just to throw you right back down on the couch. Your eyes open in surprise, but then the sight of him on top of you has you unable to function. For some godforsaken reason, he’s able to read you completely, chuckling as he looks at your breathless expression. 

The sound of his laugh gets you to break out of it, and you rush to connect your lips with his again. Your hands trace up and down his bare back, your nails sending goosebumps to his entire body as they claw at certain spots. Your hands get caught in his belt loops, causing a smile to cover your face and impeding your ability to kiss him, but you couldn’t help finding humor in the fact that his skinny jeans caused all of this. You shake your head, pulling away from the kiss for a moment and making Haechan pout before he moves to suck on your neck again.

“God, you have such a slutty waist for no reason.” You spit out in feigned anger, hands resuming their roaming over his figure. Haechan pops up so his eyes could meet yours. A playful smirk on his face covering up the split second glance you got of him looking ready to devour you.

“You love my slutty waist.” He responds confidently, and while you would love to prove him wrong, you can’t bring yourself to. So, you open and close your mouth, fighting for words that would never come out, and for a moment, Haechan looks down at you with something resembling fondness written over his features, though you were positive you were making that up. He shakes his head softly with a smile before leaning back down to kiss you, and once his lips were on yours, his entire demeanor was coated with a certain roughness and desire again that had you weak.

The only thing that pulled the two of you out of your bubble was the sound of the shower turning off, and suddenly your background noise was gone, making everything feel more real. Haechan broke out of the kiss with wide eyes, rushing to get off from on top of you as he grabbed your shirts from the floor, throwing yours over to you as he fumbled to put his own shirt back on. 

“Don’t you dare tell anyone about this.” He says sternly, running a hand through his hair to get it back to somewhat normal. You rush to put your shirt back on, bounding off the couch before Jessica could walk out of the bathroom.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” You reply in kind, refusing to acknowledge the pit in your stomach that formed as Haechan gave an uninterested eyebrow flash and went to busy himself in the kitchen, preparing to act normal for whenever Jessica eventually walked out so you could take her home. 

It was only three days later when you saw Haechan again. More excited than usual for their Tuesday dinner, Jessica opened the door before Haechan could even use his key. “Hey!” She greets with a smile which he reflects right back. 

“Hey!” He replies, actually stepping into your living room. 

Jessica immediately starts talking about how she’s not even close to being ready yet but was swamped with homework and couldn’t wait for the forced study break that came with dinner, even though she had to go make herself look presentable first. Haechan nodded along, but you’re not sure he was listening at all, because even though Jessica was right in front of him, his gaze kept wandering over to you on the couch before he could noticeably snap his focus back to Jessica. You tried to stay natural, that way if Jessica actually followed his gaze over to you, she wouldn’t immediately suspect something. Though, when Jessica did finally go back to start getting ready for dinner, you jumped off the couch and dragged Haechan by the collar towards the corner of the room furthest away from hers. 

“You have to stop being so weird around me. Jessica is gonna know something happened.” You say sternly, though you kept your voice at a near whisper just in case you weren’t as far away from Jessica as you thought. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked over Haechan. He had never been this uncool before. 

Haechan shakes his head, keeping his volume low though his words were more frantic than yours.  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” You take a small step back in surprise, finally letting go of your grip on his shirt. That was probably the last thing you were expecting him to say, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart jump up in your throat. 

“So…” You start, begging for clarification on what that meant.

Haechan moves his head down so that he’s able to make better eye contact with you, so that you could see the seriousness in his gaze. “So can we maybe see each other when Jessica isn’t getting ready in the next room?” 

You swallow hard at the question. “That sounds like a lot of sneaking around.”

“It’s worth it for you.” He replies instantaneously, making you freeze again. He was saying a very right thing under what felt like the wrong context, and despite yourself, you try to remedy that.

“But- does it have to be all sneaky? I mean, couldn’t we just-” Though, that’s as far as he lets you get before he cuts you off, shaking his head with a small laugh.

“Y/n, be real. We don’t like each other. This isn’t something emotional, it’s physical. Yeah?” Right, this was your mortal enemy you were talking to. You guys didn’t like each other. An actual relationship would be the worst idea in the world, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he looks like a dream in skinny jeans…and you’d take what you could get.

“Yeah- uh, yeah. Let’s do it.” You reply, and Haechan flashes you a killer smirk before breaking away and settling himself on the couch to wait for Jessica to get done. You don’t join him, already feeling dizzy from the conversation. Instead, you just find refuge in your bedroom until they leave, but that night didn’t end without a text from Haechan, already making plans.

You and Haechan quickly fell into routine. The first time you went over to his house under the guise of you going to study at the library, you hardly said two words to each other. Instead, Haechan opened his door to your presence and immediately pulled you inside by your arm, pushing you towards the general direction of the couch so he could get on top of you.

The next time you came over, he opened the door to see your bright smile. “Hey, Hyuck-!” You could hardly get your words out before he pulled you inside and pinned you against the now closed door. Through heavy pants in between harsh kisses, he speaks. 

“I love it when you call me that.”

You involuntarily smile a bit as you do your best to look at him with raised eyebrows. “Your name?” You ask sarcastically as he sucks on your neck.

He pops his head back up so he can look you in the eyes as he replied. “My name that the people who I care about call me.” You freeze, chills running through your entire body at his words, and in that moment, you knew you were fucked, because this was not just physical to you. Haechan was naturally flirty - a sweet talker. That wasn’t hard to deduce from his looks alone. He was hot and he knew it, which also meant he knew how to get whatever girl he wanted for the time being, but the idea of being a ‘time being’ girl of his began to make cracks in your heart. That night, you left with a spare key to his house and instructions of coming over whenever you wanted, for physical purposes, of course.  

As soon as Jessica said she was going back home for the weekend, you immediately texted Haechan to let him know, and not even five minutes after Jess closed the door to your place, you opened it back up again to Haechan’s presence. “Hey, y/n.” He says with a smile you can’t help but reflect back to him. 

“Hi, Hyuckie.” You reply bashfully. You watch as his eyes widen a bit, his smile now reaching the rest of his facial features. Without spending much time thinking about it, he leans in and gives you a quick peck on the lips before instantly retreating back and facing the floor. You laugh as you step back and actually allow him inside, figuring that kiss was probably too domestic for him to handle. 

Since the two of you hadn’t commenced this whole operation at your place before, Haechan waited for you to take the lead on deciding where he could have you. You watch his idle presence, laughing a bit, much to his confusion, before shaking your head. “Come here.” You say, nodding your head, and he’s quick to follow.

“Um, y/n?” He says as you turn into the room. “This is your bathroom.”

“I know.” You say, bending down to grab something in one of your cabinets. Haechan just stares at you bewildered, even more so when you pull out a lens case and contact solution. You smile at his expression. “Go on then. I know you still haven’t switched contacts and I know you brought your glasses with you.”

“What?” He asks with wide eyes. You shake your head fondly, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

“Your contacts irritate your eyes. You look cute in glasses. Please take out your stupid contacts and put your glasses on.” You watch as he dismisses your words, shaking his head as his eyes glaze with fear rather than confusion. You bite on the inside of your cheek, beyond pissed that his ex turned him into this. “Hyuck, you’re the hottest person alive. I don’t care about whatever your ex-girlfriend said. I understand if you get self-conscious and want to wear your contacts out in public, but you don’t have to with me. All I want is for you to be comfortable, and I know you’re not in your contacts.” You watch as he nods his head slowly, and you leave the bathroom with a soft smile as he gets close to the mirror to start taking his contacts out. 

You sit on the couch as you wait for him to come out of the bathroom, scrolling idly on your phone. You pop your head up to meet him when you hear his footsteps cause the floor to creak. He looks small, his arms crossed, gaze aimed at the floor, and his glasses on. You smile warmly. “My pretty boy, come here.” You say, standing up with open arms, but Haechan freezes.

“What?”

You don’t know what he’s confused about until you trace back over your words, eyes going wide as you try and remedy the situation. “I- I didn’t mean to be so possessive, calling you mine and everything. I know you’re not…mine. I mean, this is purely physical. I wasn’t trying to be like- you know. It just slipped out. I’m sorry. Please come objectify me and make things normal again.”

“Y/n, you know you’re not just a body to me, right?” He asks softly, a skeptical eyebrow raised. You raise your head to look at him through narrow eyes. 

“I’m not?”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “No, of course not. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“But then- but this is just physical…you don’t- I mean we don’t like each other so I don’t know how-” Your stumbling words are cut off with a kiss that you melt right into. Haechan pulls back finally with a tired expression on his face.

“You seriously talk too much. Yeah, we don’t like each other, but that doesn’t mean I act as if you’re just some body for me to use. You’re y/n, which means you’re my favorite person to hate. And you hate me back, which is great because you always look so hot when you’re pissed at me, it gets right under my skin in all the best ways. And I get the pleasure of knowing what you taste like? Do you know how big a flex that is? I mean, come on. You’re the hottest nerd around, and instead of the other nerds who probably have the biggest crush on you being the ones to kiss you like this, I’m the one who gets to know you use dragon fruit chapstick.” 

You’re able to let out a soft laugh. “You know it’s dragon fruit?” You ask in response, and Haechan raises his eyebrows, a smirk covering his lips.

“We kiss a lot.” He replies. You toss his words around visibly in your head.

“I don’t know. I don’t think we do it enough.” You say back, and Haechan just licks his lips. 

“You don’t know how badly I want to make you eat your words.” He says through his teeth, and you just throw a taunting grin his way.

“Then why don’t you?” You ask, and Haechan audibly laughs before grabbing you by the waist and crashing his lips onto yours.

You break after who knows how long when your stomach starts feeling like it’s caving in on itself. Haechan wastes no time in moving his lips from your own to your neck, guessing you probably just needed to break for air. You roll your eyes with a smile. “Hyuck.” You say monotonously, making him pop his head back up to your joyless demeanor.

“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry. I just-”

“Hyuckie,” you laugh, and he seems to calm down a bit. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet today. I’m starving. I can’t physically kiss your pretty face anymore.”

Haechan shrugs. “Okay, let’s order a pizza.” 

You look at him, bewildered. “What- I thought- you’re not just gonna…I thought you were gonna go.”

“And why would I do that?” He questions, making you scrunch your brows down.

“Because then it would be like us hanging out while we eat. Not…this.”

Haechan laughs again. “I know. Let’s order a pizza. We’ve watched Bones on your couch before. You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna leave you so soon.” 

The shyest smile crosses your face as you reach for the phone to call the pizza place. You stare down at the number entered on the keypad - all you had to do was press the call button. Instead, you turn your gaze back over to Haechan, holding your phone out towards him. “Can you do it?” You ask shyly, and Haechan’s brows furrow.

“What?” He asks with ample confusion. You drop your head in response.

“I get really nervous when I need to order something over the phone.” You reply, your words hardly audible under your embarrassment. Haechan shakes his head, but the biggest smile comes across his face.

“You’re so fucking adorable. Give me the phone, you go get the TV ready.” He says, and you snap your gaze back up to him, a small grateful smile of your own painted across your lips as you move towards the TV. “Just a large pepperoni pizza, yeah?” Haechan continues, and you turn back to him with a nod.

“Yeah.”

You immediately turn Bones on the TV for the two of you to watch while you eat, and you’re pleasantly surprised to find a normal activity such as this didn’t feel awkward at all with him anymore. Haechan finished eating before you did, and he frowned at the space between the two of you on the couch for only a second before sliding over and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You will your face not to blush at something as stupid as this, and you don’t even know if it worked. Regardless, there was still twenty minutes left on the episode when you finished eating, too. So, you made yourself more comfortable against his body.

Haechan started rubbing his thumb up and down your side where it had laid, incredibly too domestic for your liking. You try and shake it off pretty successfully, until his thumb moved ever so slightly to caress your covered breast. You sigh, turning to face him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re an idiot.” You say monotonously. 

He doesn’t look away from the TV, but he grins widely. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He replies. Though, his attempt to feign innocence is completely ruined when he straight up grabs your boob.

“Okay, that’s it.” You huff, switching from your position laying at his side to instead straddling him on top of your couch. Haechan looks at you as though he has no clue what you’re doing there, though his hands immediately latch onto your thighs, pulling you as close as possible to him. 

“You had enough to eat yet?” He asks with a smirk.

You give a minimal shake of your head. “I don’t know, you look pretty tasty.” You hardly get through your words before your ability to speak is taken from you. Haechan kissed you with a passion that couldn’t be rivaled, as his hands left your thighs to grab your waist, trying his best to pull you even closer to him. You knew you messed up when you started moving your lower body against his, making him break away from the kiss immediately. 

“Fuck, y/n!” He says loudly, but his grip on your waist only encourages you to speed up. As he tore his lips from yours, you moved to suck on his neck, another thing you shouldn’t have done. “No, no, no! That’s my job. Need your pretty neck.” He huffs, doing his best to remove your shirt. You let him, and then Haechan has a field day with your neck and chest as you still grind against him. Somewhere along the way, you managed to rip him from his shirt as well, your fingers lightly tracing his abs and making him go crazy. He eventually started dipping his fingers beneath the waistline of your pants. “Y/n, tell me to stop.” He breathes.

“Do I have to?” You reply in between kisses. 

“Yes, y/n. I- You don’t know how badly I need you.” 

“Show me, then.” 

Haechan pulls back from your lips, staring at you intently. “Y/n, I refuse to let this be something you regret.”

You laugh a little, shaking your head in dismissal. “I won’t. I promise.” 

Haechan looks at you as though he’s holding back his own laugh. “That sounded so certain. I would hate to be the guy that has you sure this won’t be as bad.” He replies, and you suddenly understand his interpretation of your words, causing you to duck your head, moving your attention to your hands that were currently fiddling with Haechan’s fingers.

“Oh, no. Hyuck, I’ve never…” Your words taper off, and Haechan looks at you with wide eyes.

“Oh my god, y/n. I can’t be your first. I mean, that’s a big deal, you know? You deserve-”

“Hyuck, there’s no one I trust more than you for this.” You say, cutting him off and getting him to render still. He licks his lips in contemplation, sighing heavily before he looks back up at you.

“You might end up bleeding - that’s okay. I don’t want you to worry about that or feel embarrassed at all because of it. I’ll clean you up after. If at any point you get uncomfortable, you tell me right away. I do not care what point that is, you tell me and it stops immediately, no questions asked. I will do my best to not hurt you, but you gotta tell me what feels good, okay? I’m gonna need you to be vocal and I mean it literally. I wanna make this about you, yeah? Tell me what you want and what feels good. And if you’re not 100% sure, I need you to be honest about it right now because-”

“Hyuckie.” You say gently, cutting him off. “I’m sure. You don’t have to worry.”

“Yes, I do!” He rebuttals. You just roll your eyes playfully, leaning in to give him a quick kiss before making eye contact again.

“It’s okay. Look, all you have to do is wrap your pretty fingers around my neck and we’ll be good to go.” You say plainly. Haechan looks at you in disbelief.

“A choking kink? You’re kidding me.” He says, adding on a dismissive chuckle. Though, you just raise your eyebrows at him expectantly, letting him know you were serious, and he turns slightly shy.

You watch as he sucks on his lips, eyes darting down from your own as he fights back a smile. “Like, is this good?” He asks, wrapping one of his hands around your neck lightly. His face contorts as you audibly laugh.

“Absolutely not. Come on, choke me like you hate me, Hyuck.” 

His eyes go wide as he pulls his hand from your neck. “You know, I don’t know if I want to take you to the bedroom anymore. You scare me.” He remarks playfully, but you send a pout his way and he instantly folds, picking you up from under your thighs and making his way to your bedroom. The two of you spend an ample amount of time just making out, exploring each other’s bodies. Then, with another check of assurance from Haechan and a rip of a condom packet with his teeth, he gave you a glimpse of heaven. 

Afterwards, Haechan got straight to work on his promise of helping you clean up. “Alright, beautiful, do you wanna shower?” He asks, but you don’t answer his question.

“Don’t call me that.” You say instead, watching as he furrows his brows. You sigh, dodging his eye contact. “Too domestic…” You add on, and you can hear him sigh.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t call you that, but really, do you want to shower?” He asks again, and you nod. He immediately scoops you up, carrying you bridal style to the bathroom. 

“I can walk you know?” You say playfully before he sets you down on the bathroom floor.

“Yeah? Guess I need to go harder next time.” He replies with a smirk, but your playfulness falls into genuine happiness. 

“I’m glad there’s still a ‘next time’ after all this.” 

Haechan drops his shoulders, taking the opportunity provided by the fact that you were staring at the floor to look at you with a softness in his eyes. “There’s always a ‘next time’ with us.” He says, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before moving to start up the shower for you. Standing frozen, by the time you realize you had to tell him that forehead kisses were also too domestic for you to handle, he was already out of the bathroom. 

When you walk back into your room wrapped in a towel, you’re shocked to see your bed stripped to just the mattress. You move your gaze to Haechan, a questioning look on your face. “Your sheets are in the washer right now. Do you have another set I can throw on your bed? If not, you can sleepover at mine. I’d just want to make sure we get your bedding in the dryer before we leave to go back to mine.” 

You’re quite honestly dumbfounded, and a smile takes over your face as you shake your head. “No, I don’t have another set. You didn’t have to do all this.” You say softly, but Haechan snaps his head back to you in an instant.

“Yes, I said I would. And this isn’t about me. How are you feeling?”

“Good.” You answer truthfully.

“Can I get you anything?” He continues, and you shake your head.

“No.” You reply. There was a beat of silence, and you lick your lips. “Actually…” You drag off, staring up at him to make sure he actually didn’t care about you making requests. “Could you just- can you just hold me for a second?” You ask weakly, and Haechan’s eyes widen.

“Yeah…yeah! Come here.” He says gently, and you take the few small steps right into his waiting arms. You don’t hug him back, your arms instead at your chest, holding up the towel that was still covering your body. Though, if Haechan minded, he didn’t let it show. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his embrace comforting. Then, without being able to really explain why, you began to cry in his arms. Haechan didn’t seem shocked. Instead, he just ran one hand gently up and down your back, though not letting up on his tight hold of you. 

“I’m sorry.” You say hoarsely. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” 

Haechan kisses the top of your head. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay. You’ve had an exhausting day. I’d rather you cry in my arms than alone.” 

You dig your head out of his chest, using one hand to wipe away the remaining tears on your face. “You can’t be this nice to me.” You say seriously, and Haechan sighs.

“Okay, no more being nice to each other…after tonight.” He says, and you find yourself nodding your head in response, getting him to relax again. “Do you still want me to hold you, or do you want to get dressed and head to mine?” He asks, truly not caring either way. 

You pull yourself out of his arms in response, facing the floor. “I’ll uh- get ready.”

The drive over to his place is quiet, with you staring out the window the entire time. Though, as soon as you walk through his front door, you find your words again. “I don’t regret it.” You say seriously. “And I won’t regret it when I wake up tomorrow. Or any time after that. I know I’m acting weird, but it’s not because of that. I promise.”

Haechan looks your way with a fond smile. “You aren’t acting weird, y/n. I put you through a lot today. I get it. Just come crawl into bed with me. I’ll hold you some more.” You don’t hesitate to give into his offer, though, you add it to the list of things that probably shouldn’t happen again if you don’t want to fall in love with Haechan. 

You ended up spending the entire next day with Haechan, under the reasoning that this would be the most time you guys would be able to spend together without Jessica getting suspicious. The two of you were walking back into your dorm Saturday night so that you could put your bed back together and hang out some more, figuring Haechan could just spend the night here and leave in the morning before Jessica gets back. That plan is instantly ruined when you open up the front door and see Jessica moving around in the kitchen. As quickly as you could, you shove Haechan back into the dorm hallway with one hand and slam the door behind you, praying he got the hint that Jessica was here and you didn’t just suddenly turn into a bitch. 

At the sound of the door slamming, Jessica shoots her gaze your way with a smile. “Hey, y/n!” 

You force your legs to start walking, moving towards the living room as if everything was normal. “Hey, Jess. I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow afternoon.” You say, wondering why the hell she was already here. She waves an uninterested hand in the air.

“That was the plan, but I have so much homework and my parents had a brunch planned with some of their friends so there was really no reason for me to stay another night.” 

“Ah.” You reply, trying to just sneak away to your room without any more complications. You had nearly gotten away with it, but before you can step through the open door into your room, Jessica speaks up again, making you turn back to her.

“Oh, yeah. Where are your bed sheets?” She asks, curious, and you wince.

“Uh, they’re in the dryer. I washed them.” You say neutrally, but Jessica raises an eyebrow.

“You? Washed your sheets? You never wash your sheets.” She says with a laugh.

“Yeah well, you know. Just seemed like they needed washed.” You reply, trying your best to sound normal. 

“And uh- would that have anything to do with the hickies on your neck?” She asks, and you freeze on the spot, eyes wide as you make contact with her knowing expression, praying to God she didn’t know the all of it.

“Uh- yeah you know. I might’ve hooked up with someone while you were gone.” You say, fumbling through your words. You watch as Jessica lights up.

“Who?!” 

Your throat turns dry, and you start fiddling with the rings on your fingers as you find someone to pin this on. “Johnny! You know, the kid from Chicago who takes the least amount of credit hours a semester as possible so he can spend as many years at college parties as possible? Him.” You look back up to meet Jessica’s bewildered face.

“Wow.” She replies, seeming to be incredibly amazed by your ability to pull Johnny, and you can’t even begin to imagine what she would look like if you told her you actually pulled her best friend, instead. 

“Yeah, so- I’m just gonna go grab my sheets from the dryer and go to bed. I’ve had quite the weekend and we still have all of Sunday to get through.” As soon as you finish talking, you dart to where the washer and dryer were before rushing back to your bedroom and closing the door, immediately grabbing your phone to text Haechan.

Jessica is back early! I’m sorry for slamming the door in your face, but I didn’t know what else to do.

His response comes a few minutes later, finally letting you relax again. Don’t worry, I figured that was the case. I’m already back at my place…

Though you were glad he wasn’t still outside your dorm, because he definitely couldn’t come in now, your heart struggled with the idea of him already back at his house…without you. I wish we could’ve had our extra night together. I miss you, Hyuckie.

You watch as his text bubble appears and disappears. You bite on your bottom lip, opting to start putting your bed back together to keep your mind from running. After putting one corner of your fitted sheet back on, your phone dings and you instantly move to grab it and read his message. I thought we weren’t supposed to be nice to each other.

A small smile spreads across your face. He was making fun of you. You were the one who set those boundaries in the first place. You glance from your phone to your bed and immediately know how to respond. Don’t worry. I only wish you were here so you could help me make my bed like you said you would.

There’s my y/n. You read his text over and over again. Surely he just meant it in regard to your typical personality with him, the y/n he knew. Though, the more you looked at his text, the more you knew you didn’t want him to mean it in that way, you wanted him to call you his. That’s when you knew there was no way you could respond to that message. So, you continue the task of making your bed so you could go to sleep, trying to ignore how empty it felt without him. 

Two days later, you walked back in from class to see Jessica and Haechan hanging out in your living room. Your breath hitches at the sight of him, and you quickly turn around and act like you were still fiddling with the door so you could take a moment to fix a neutral expression on your face…and prepare yourself to scowl at him once you turn back around. 

“Hey, Jess. I’m home-” You start, moving to walk towards the living room. “-oh great. You’re here.” You continue with a roll of the eyes as your gaze lands on Haechan. 

His deadpan stare looks you up and down as his nose scrunches in disgust. “Yeah, cause I was told you weren’t.”

You flash your eyebrows at him, unamused. “Well, don’t worry. I won’t be bothering you.” You state as you start on your walk to your room. Haechan calls out after you.

“You already are, sweetheart.” He says condescendingly. 

“Yeah, fuck you.” You reply back, closing the door to your bedroom and giving yourself the ability to actually breathe again.

On the couch, Jessica rubs her forehead. “You know, I thought things were actually gonna get better between the two of you after you watched Bones that one day.” She says with a small, but defeated, laugh. Haechan clears his throat awkwardly. 

“Sorry to kill your spirits, but y/n and I are not meant to be friends.” He replies in kind before quickly getting the two of them back to their conversation topic from before you walked in. 

You were getting through some homework when there was a knock at your door. Assuming it was Jessica, you throw the door open, though shock courses through you when you see Haechan, instead. He leans in to give you a soft kiss before standing straight up again, as if that type of thing was normal between the two of you. “Jessica is in the bathroom.” He says softly, and you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s great, but I don’t think that gives us enough time to fuck.” You respond with a laugh, though Haechan’s brows furrow.

“What? I didn’t come here for that. I came to tell you I’m sorry for being mean to you when you came in.” 

Surprise runs over your face, but it soon drops into a gentle smile. “Don’t worry about it, Hyuck. We’re supposed to hate each other.”

He rolls his eyes. “I know, but it didn’t feel good this time.” He responds, riddled with defeat, and you can’t help yourself from getting up on your tiptoes to lightly kiss him again.

You pull back quickly, facing the ground. “Hyuckie-” That’s when the sound of the bathroom door opening fills the air, and you immediately jump to lean uninterestedly against your doorframe, arms crossed in front of your body as your face falls flat. “Homework! So, can you stop annoying me just because Jessica is gone for one second and you can’t annoy her?” 

As predicted, Jessica quickly finds her way over to the two of you, eventually coming to stand at Haechan’s side. “Can’t believe I come out of the bathroom to find you talking with y/n.” She says with genuine surprise. You make concerned eye contact with her.

“Talking? More like tormenting…” You say in response.

Jessica turns to look at Haechan, nudging him slightly. “Hyuck, I would be careful about pissing her off, now. She’s got some big men on her side that can come beat you up. I mean, she hooked up with Johnny Suh.” 

Your face becomes painted with shock. “Jessica!” You yell, causing her to put her hands up in defense.

“Look, it just came out.”

Haechan makes eye contact with you, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Hooked up with Johnny?! Really?” He responds, playing his part of not believing you pulled him exceptionally well.

You flash your eyebrows at him, doing your best to try and act all powerful now because you apparently hooked up with Johnny. “Yep! It was one hell of a first time.” You reply, and a soft smile is quick to adorn your face as you continue. “Not to mention he took…really good care of me after. You could learn something from him about how to treat women.” You add on, looking back up at him with a smirk. Almost all of Haechan’s body language could lead anyone to believe he hated you, didn’t give a damn about who you slept with, could hardly bother himself with this conversation at all, but his eyes were filled with fondness as he looked back at you. You inhale sharply, thankful when Haechan starts talking again to remind you of the environment you were in.

“Yeah? I’ll be sure to ask for lessons on how to tolerate you first.” He responds with a smirk of his own. Jessica finally gets fed up, rolling her eyes and grabbing Haechan by the arm to drag him away from you before you could argue any more. You almost instantly throw your homework back in your backpack, walking to the door to leave as you turn around to face them again. 

“I’m gonna head to the library since I obviously can’t get any work done here. I’ll be back later tonight.” You say with a smile aimed in Jessica’s direction. She threw a thumbs up your way along with a ‘be safe,’ and then you were out the door. 

You had just gotten to the library when your phone lit up with a text from Haechan.

I’ll pick you up from the library after Jess and I eat dinner.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, though really, you’re beyond glad he could see how much you wanted him tonight. I’d be pissed if you didn’t :) 

His response is instantaneous. Yeah, yeah. Go do your homework before I fuck you dumb <3 

Around an hour and a half later, you get a call from Haechan and you immediately stuff your laptop back into your bag before picking up the phone. “Hey, where are you sitting? I’ll come pick you up-” He starts, but you cut him off in an instant.

“Absolutely not. We cannot be seen in public together.” 

“Y/n, this isn’t some big scandal.” He replies lightly, but you shake your head, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t see it.

“You’re wrong. Everyone knows we hate each other and everyone knows Jessica is our mutual. If they see us together, it’s getting back to Jessica in an instant. Tell me where you’re parked and I’ll come to you.” A small laugh accompanies your words, even more so when Haechan pouts on the other end and you can imagine it vividly.

“Fine, but you’re never allowed to complain that chivalry is dead when you’re the one causing it.” You roll your eyes, stepping out of the library and immediately seeing his car anyways. You hang up on the phone and open his passenger door to slide into your seat. “Finish all your homework like a good girl?” He asks with a smirk and you send a glare his way.

“Shut up. I finished all but one assignment. I got a little distracted.” You drag off, and Haechan lights up.

“Oh my god, did you touch yourself in the library bathrooms?”

“No!” You reply adamantly before sinking back into the passenger seat a little. “But I would’ve if I had to wait any longer. Dinner took a long time, Hyuckie.” You add with a frown, and Haechan just shakes his head in the driver’s seat. 

“God, it is taking everything in me to not throw you in the backseat and have you right here right now.”

You roll your eyes, more than aware that you couldn’t have car sex in front of the library. Instead, you place a hand on his cheek and kiss him deeply. He didn’t complain, figuring making out with you in his front seat was enough to hold him over since he couldn’t fuck you in the back seat. You let an entire song play through the radio as you indulged in Haechan’s taste, finally pulling back with a heavy breath before you could forget your morals. “Um…Please drive now so we can go home and you can undress me. I need you.”

 Haechan tries to hide his smile as he shifts into drive and places his hands back on the wheel. “Yeah, yeah. Next stop…home.”

You stumble your way inside his front door, passionate kisses getting in the way of actually walking. The second you get inside, Haechan is sliding your shirt over your head. He keeps his kisses as consistent as possible until everything actually registers in his mind and he pulls back to look you up and down, absentmindedly licking his lips. “Y/n, goddamn.”

You look down at your chest just to laugh and fix your gaze back on him. “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. I did some shopping.” You say offhandedly, as though your new lingerie set wasn’t killing Haechan. He finally brings himself to look back at your face, not bothering to hide how pissed he was.

“On the couch, now.” He orders, and you just roll your eyes playfully, grabbing him by the neck of his shirt to bring him along with you. In no time flat, he’s completely on top of you, kissing what seemed to be every inch of your body. Though, the second his lips land on your neck, you remember the new boundaries you had to set. 

“Hey, you can’t leave marks on my neck anymore.” 

“Oh, but Johnny can, huh?” He teases as he props himself up to make eye contact with you. 

You roll your eyes. “He was the first guy that came to mind.”

Haechan shakes his head. “I’ll make sure you can never think about another guy again.” He says with conviction, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe.

“God, you’re so hot.” You say through an exhale, and Haechan just laughs before moving to suck and nip at your neck again. “Hyuck, that didn’t mean you could still bruise me, baby.” 

He hums against your skin, finding a way to respond without putting too much space between your two bodies. “Can’t help it. You look so pretty, all marked up as mine.” He mumbles. You sigh, running a hand gently through his hair as he works on your chest instead. 

“Hyuckie, I’m not yours.” You say softly, trying to make sure the defeat you felt while admitting that didn’t show. Haechan freezes immediately, and when he finally finds his ability to move, it’s just to press a lingering kiss on your lips.

“Just for tonight. Be mine just for tonight.” He says, though it comes out more so as a question. You let out another small sigh, shaking your head before moving to connect your lips to his again. 

“Jessica knows I don’t do any homework past 10:00.” You tell him as you break apart. Haechan takes a moment to glance at his watch, reading the time before nodding his head softly. 

“I’ll get you back by then. Don’t worry.” From then until 9:45, Haechan spent all of his time making sure you were his that night.  

It was about two months into whatever it was that you and Haechan had gotten yourselves into. You were currently sitting in the living room. You knew Haechan was fully aware that Jessica wasn’t home, so now you were just waiting for him to burst through the front door at any moment. When he finally does, he walks to put his keys and wallet down on the counter before making his way over to where you were sitting and placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Hey,” he says smoothly, causing blush to cover your face. You still weren’t used to the days where he would be more gentle with you, not that you were complaining, but it was unfamiliar nonetheless. You smile back at him, about to respond when he finally moves his gaze to assess what you’ve been up to. “Are you playing Mariokart?” He asks, and you laugh from slight embarrassment. 

“Yeah. Had to kill time while waiting for you somehow.” You say as you hit the home button to exit out, but then you notice the smallest traces of sadness cross his face, causing you to smirk. “Did you want to play?” You ask, and Haechan shoots his gaze back over to you, looking more like a boy than ever. 

“Of course I want to play!” He replies, and suddenly your laughter isn’t from embarrassment anymore. You move to grab another remote for him so the two of you could play together. You spent the next two hours playing Mariokart with him, trying to perfect all the circuits so you could collect all the best trophies, and though today’s physical touch went no further than celebratory kisses, playful shoves, and your head on his shoulder, you wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Though, it brought about a fundamental truth - you were not having passionate sex with your enemy. No, you found that you liked being around Haechan. 

The two of you had finished a quick dinner before the realization hit that Jessica would be coming back home from her night class soon. With a shared glance, you and Haechan both knew he should probably head back to his place. You reluctantly walked him to your front door, hand reaching for the knob to open it when Haechan’s hand grabbed hold of your own. You look up at him, confused, but he just stared down at you with a grin before leaning in to kiss you. “We can do this more often, too.” He says softly as he pulls back. You raise your brows in question. 

“Kiss?” You reply, trying to figure out what he was referring to. 

Haechan laughs, shaking his head and making his hair fall messily around his eyes. “No- well, yes, I always want to kiss you, but I’m talking about just hanging out. You know, playing Mariokart and all that…if you want! We don’t have to, I can just come over and immediately undress you and I wouldn’t mind that either-”

“Hyuck,” you say with a laugh, cutting him off. “We’ll hang out more, don’t worry. Besides, we still have the 200 cc circuits to beat.” 

You watch as he smiles brightly back down at you before leaning back in, this time to kiss every inch of your face and turn you into a giggling mess. “I’ll see you soon.” He says smoothly, and then he’s finally out the door and leaving you blushing profusely because you think Haechan just admitted to enjoying being around you, too. 

A couple of Fridays later, Haechan lets himself into your dorm as casually as ever when he comes over to actually hang out with Jessica. At the sound of the door closing, Jessica walks out from her room to greet Haechan, who already had his attention occupied by the new addition to your kitchen table. “Flowers? I didn’t know you could keep things alive.” He jokes as he turns around to face Jessica. She just rolls her eyes with a laugh.

“They’re not mine. Y/n bought them, and for your information, I can actually keep flowers alive way better than she can, thank you very much.” She replies, and Haechan turns back to study the bouquet again, trying to memorize them before Jessica could catch onto his actions.

“Should’ve known y/n bought them - these aren’t the prettiest flowers by a long shot.” He says with a scoff. 

Jessica shakes her head. “You should be glad she isn’t home right now to hear you say that. The bluebells in there are her favorite flower in the world.” At this, Haechan shoots his gaze back towards Jessica.

“Really?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows after the fact to try and cover up the genuine curiosity that painted his question. Jessica seems not to notice as she just nods her head, but that’s when you finally come in through the front door, and they both turn their attention towards you.

You didn’t know Haechan was going to be at your place right now, but you probably should’ve guessed with it being a Friday - if Mark and Jessica weren’t going on a solo date, their friend group typically hung out and bar hopped all together. Regardless of the fact that Jessica was there, you couldn’t bring yourself to put on a look of disgust once you saw Haechan. Instead, you were radiating off a sort of empty feeling - you weren’t really sad, just hollow, not concerned enough to fake-hate Haechan. You don’t say a single word in greeting as you just go to your room and start getting things ready for a shower. 

Haechan turns back to Jessica with raised eyebrows. “Where did she just come from?” He asks, wondering what the hell had you looking like that. 

“Ummmm, today’s Friday, right?” Jessica asks, then looking at the time. “She just got back from quantum mechanics.” She answers, and that seems to calm her worries - she would look dead every time she had to sit through quantum mechanics, too. On the other hand, Haechan’s hands balled into fists. He knew that class was with your dick of a professor, and he could only guess as to what disgusting things he threw your way this time that had you feeling so dirty you had to shower right away. 

Haechan wanted to barge into your room, wrap you in the biggest hug, and let you cry in the comfort of his arms, but he couldn’t - not with Jessica here. With every muscle in his body tensed up, he thought about the consequences of his actions should he go wrap you in a hug anyways, but that wouldn’t be fair to you. You were a part of whatever relationship the two of you had going on, and you both agreed that relationship stayed hidden. He couldn’t ruin that now without your consent.

Instead, he just looked back at Jessica flatly, flashing his eyebrows in recognition of the answer, and then quickly moved along. “Do you wanna head out to meet up with the guys?” He asks in return, and if there was any desperation in Haechan’s voice conveying how much he needed to get out of your dorm before he cracked, Jessica didn’t pick up on it. She nodded, grabbing her things, knocking on your door to let you know they were heading out, and then following Haechan out of the dorm.

Before you knew it, six months had passed since Haechan lost his dad, and you decided to surprise him with his favorite meal. It wasn’t like the two of you weren’t planning dinners/hangouts/hookups basically every day anyways, but you still wanted this one to be more lowkey, more intimate in an emotional, rather than physical, way, and a surprise dinner would do just that. You picked up his favorite takeout for the both of you before driving over to his place, pulling out your spare key to his house with excitement overtaking you as you walked in.

“Hey, Hyuckie. I’m here with din- Oh god.” Your face, along with the bag of food in your hands, instantly drops as you turn back from the closed door to his living area, only to notice him on top of another girl…his ex. Tears immediately sting at the back of your eyes, and you’re using everything in you to not let them fall down your face.

Haechan pops up as soon as you had started speaking, his eyes wide as he turns to look at you over his shoulder, and his body still straddled over his ex. “Y/n!” He yells out in shock.

His ex moves to prop herself up on her elbows, giving her a clear view of your frozen state at the door. Then, she rolls her eyes with a laugh. “Oh, I forgot she was the one getting my sloppy seconds.”

Your brows furrow. In any case, this could have been two friends grabbing dinner together. There was no way for her to so confidently say you were hooking up with her ex without him saying so. You face Haechan with betrayal covering your entire being. “So much for not kissing and telling, huh Haechan?” You spit out before walking back out of his place and slamming the door.

When you were finally outside, that’s when you gave yourself the chance to bawl your eyes out. You knew you wouldn’t be able to drive home safely without letting yourself cry beforehand. What sucked is that it gave Haechan time to fling the front door open. “Y/n-” He starts, grabbing your wrist to stop you from walking. You do your best to face away from him entirely, yanking your wrist out of his hand and cutting him off.

“Don’t touch me, Haechan!” You choke out, and he lets go immediately, regardless of the desperation on his face.

“Look I-”

You stop him again, his voice alone sending more tears down your face. You finally turn to him, slowing your words down so your voice doesn't crack, or at least, you tried to. “How long has it been going on?”

Haechan’s face and shoulders drop in unison. “This is the first time she’s been back over since the break up.” He replies softly.

You shake your head, none of it making sense and all of it hurting you. “Why…?” You had more of a question prepared, but that was all you could get out. You watch as Haechan sighs.

“I ran into her at a darty today. She approached me and started conversation. I tried not to involve myself in it, but she laughed and told me I was stupid for not wanting to talk to her because she said no one else will ever love me. And when I went to refute, I accidentally mentioned you. And she- she laughed again, telling me that I was dumb for thinking you would ever care for me, cause you hate me. And I couldn’t think of anything to say in response. And so then we ended up here.” The more he spoke, the more enraged you became. You shake your head in disgust.

“Fuck you!”

Haechan’s eyes widened. “What-”

You make sure to maintain eye contact with him as you begin to speak, though your words were broken up by your intense sobs. “You couldn’t think of anything to say against her point?! Who was the one washing off the makeup she made you put on? Who was the one telling you that the last thing you needed to do was cover up your stupid pretty face in the first place? Who was the one with a contact lens case in their bathroom so you could take them out and wear your glasses while you were over because you’re more comfortable in them? Who was the one you came to for comfort when you lost your dad-?”

“I went over to find Jessica!” He yells, cutting you off, but you don’t take any of it.

“But you stayed when you saw it was just me! Haechan-”

“Can you stop fucking calling me that?!” He pleads, tears now running slowly down his own cheeks. 

All you can do is shake your head again sadly. “I don’t understand how you could go through all of that with her and then go back to it. Do you know how idiotic I feel?! Sneaking around and lying to Jessica because I’m hooking up with her best friend, who everyone thinks I hate, by the way, behind her back. Being so euphoric from your touch that I want to tell the world but I can’t because you told me I couldn’t tell anyone, and I wasn’t gonna break that promise because I wanted to be able to keep seeing you- would do anything to keep seeing you. Thinking that maybe there was the smallest chance any of this was real to you, too. To be so upset over something I have no right to be upset about because you were never mine.”

“Y/n-” He says as gently as he could given both your states. You lose the courage to look him in the eye, instead dropping your gaze to the floor as you respond.

“I feel like an idiot, Haechan.” With that, you turn to get back in your car and go home, and Haechan doesn’t stop you. 

You continued to cry the entire drive back home, but you managed to stop the debilitating sobs, and instead soft, insistent tears just rolled down your face. You unlock the door to your house, your voice cracking as you announce your presence.

“I’m home.”

“Y/n-” Jessica starts excitedly, but then she sees your state and instantly panics. “-are you okay?! What happened?!” She continues, running up to where you stand defeated at the entryway.

“Is everything okay?” A male voice adds, and you sigh as your cries get more intense again.

“Mark is here. Of course Mark is here. Cause you guys are together and happy.” You say in a snarky response, and out of your peripheral, you see a frowning Mark take two steps back from the hug you and Jessica were encased in.

“Y/n, what is going on?” Jessica asks, more confused than ever because you’ve never been anything but happy for her and Mark. You shake your head rapidly in response.

“Nothing. You would hate me.”

Though your face was buried in her chest, you can sense her rolling her eyes. “I can assure you, I wouldn’t.” She states plainly, and though you knew she definitely would once she actually knew what was up, you took her words for what they were worth and your explanation tumbled out of your mouth.

“I’ve been hooking up with Haechan behind your back.”

Jessica immediately pulls away from the hug, making concerned eye contact with you instead. “WHAT?!”

Mark glances between the two of you, feeling incredibly like he was intruding, even more so because Haechan was his friend, too. “I’m uh- gonna go grab food!” He interjects before dashing out of the door behind you. With him gone, you continue with your explanation.

“For months, Jess. And we agreed not to tell anyone because it was just a friends with benefits thing, or enemies with benefits I guess. But it was more to me. It was real. I love him, Jessica.” The words just tumbled out of your mouth, but they were true, you knew so the second you said it. You loved Haechan.

Jessica looks at you with a frown. “So why the tears?” She asks gently, and you immediately drop your gaze to the floor, embarrassed, ashamed.

“I went over and unlocked his door with my spare key because we were gonna have dinner together.” You say slowly, your words finally coming out more even.

“Yeah?” Jessica probes when you had seemed to stop talking completely. You swallow hard, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid more tears from falling, but then you just spit it out.

“He was with his ex. On top of her. On the couch that knows my imprint.”

Jessica’s eyes widened impossibly. “Y/n-”

“Why the fuck would he do that, Jessica?” You practically shout, your rage finally mixing in with your sorrow.

Jessica just shakes her head, sucking on her bottom lip. “I don’t know.” She replies softly, and then she just holds you in silence until your tears finally stop and you move to lock yourself in your bedroom. 

Two days later, when there’s a knock on your door, you assume Jessica is there to try and get you to eat something again. You slump over to open your bedroom door, already preparing how to tell Jessica you still couldn’t imagine stomaching food yet, when instead, it’s Haechan’s worried gaze meeting yours. Your eyes widen, stinging with tears already, but you can’t bring yourself to close the door just yet - maybe it was the fact that he was in his glasses, goddamned skinny jeans, and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Y/n, it was the worst mistake of my life.” He says sincerely, and you drop your gaze to the floor.

“What? Getting together with me or her?” You ask with venom.

His response is instantaneous. “With her. Obviously!”

“You sure? You sure she doesn’t love you more than I do?” You spit back angrily, daring to look him in the eyes once again just to glare at him.

The sadness in his face neutralizes in an instant, and he stares back at you with wide eyes. “You- do you- do you love me?” He asks hesitantly in response, and the tears you’d been holding back fell freely now.

“I’m not fucking putting myself through this.” You respond defeatedly, and you immediately close the door in his face, running to bundle up in bed in a mess of tears. 

When you finally step out of your room again to grab a water bottle, you’re met with the bouquet Haechan had in his hands now laying on the counter. You walk up to it, reading the sticky note now attached. 

This was the only bouquet they had with bluebells…I know they’re your favorite. Coincidentally, one of their meanings is forgiveness (according to the flower shop guy, at least). There’s nothing I want more than your forgiveness. Y/n, I messed up so bad, I know, I’m sorry. I never should have done that. I don’t know why I did that, not when you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m sorry I never made you mine when I really had the chance. I was terrified you didn’t feel for me the way I do for you, but now I know how stupid that was. You’re the only one to ever care for me the way you do, and if you decide that what I did was too terrible, just know you’ll forever be my standard…my beautiful, incomparable standard.

When Jessica walked in through the front door after grabbing lunch with Mark, she found you still standing there in the kitchen, looking down on the now tear-stained note as your body still shook with sobs. 

She walked over to the counter, silently sliding the note away from where it laid in front of you to read it herself. From your right, you hear her sigh and she’s quick to put down the note and wrap you in a hug instead. You stay crying in her arms for what you felt had to be too long, but she never said a word about it if it was. 

Your days quickly started to blur, all of them feeling the same as you would drag yourself to class and then back home, with no extra plans to ever keep you occupied or active. You were currently on the couch, sweats adorning your figure, Bones on the TV, and a pint of ice cream in your hands. You had given up on trying - no longer caring about nice outfits or makeup, hardly eating anything of actual substance. As long as you had enough energy to sit through class, you considered it a win. It was after dinner time when Jessica got back from one of her dates with Mark, closing the front door to turn around and see you as her face falls. 

“Hey…how are you?” She asks lightly, walking over to where you sat in the living room.

You don’t move your gaze away from the TV, or more so, the ice cream you were eating. “Fine. Why?” You reply monotonously, and Jessica looks at you defeatedly.

“Because sweetheart, it’s been two months and you’re still devouring pints of icecream at a time on our couch.”

“I don’t like life without him.” You spit out in reply, though your voice is weak, and the more you thought about how true the statement was, the closer you got to tears. 

Jessica reaches over to brush some of your hair back from where it covered your face, making sure the two of you could make eye contact. “I know. He feels the same way, you know?”

“You’re just saying that.” You snap back instantly, but Jessica shakes her head.

“No, I’m not. I wouldn’t do that to you. Every time I go over to his place, he looks almost exactly like you do. He keeps beating himself up, saying he should’ve stuck to his plan for your birthday, that everything would’ve worked out perfectly if he knew you at least tolerated him before he indulged in your physical attractiveness.”

This finally gets your attention, and your face fills with confusion, feeling something other than sadness for the first time in two months. “Wh- what do you mean his plan for my birthday?”

Jessica seems surprised at the question. “Oh, I thought he would’ve told you. He was gonna pick you up from class and walk you back here so he could wish you a happy birthday.” 

In an instant, all of the color drains from your face again. “Why didn’t he?”

“I don’t know. He never told me.” Jessica answers seriously, now cementing the idea you had in your mind of what happened, everything clicking into place.

You finally speak again after what felt like forever of silence, your brain going 100 miles an hour. “...Do you know where he is now?” You ask seriously, and Jessica doesn’t hide her shock at your change in behavior.

“No, but I can find out. You okay?” She asks, and you just shake your head.

“No. No, not at all.” You reply, and you’re already up off the couch, rushing to put the pint of ice cream away and change into nicer clothes as Jessica texts Haechan, who just so happened to be at home…because his daily routine practically reflected yours over the past two months.

You knock harshly on his door, pacing back and forth as you wait for him to answer, nerves coursing through your entire being. After what felt like a lifetime, the door cracks open, and all of your movements pause. At first, it’s hardly open enough to see him at all, and you gulp back your awkwardness. “What do you-” He starts quietly, but he quickly recognizes you from the tiny view he allowed himself, and suddenly the door is swung wide open. “Y/n?” 

You stare up at him, heart melting at the sight. He was in a big hoodie and wearing his glasses, making the corners of your mouth perk up in a smile. Though, the smile quickly drops as you take in the rest of his features. Jessica was right, he looked as bad as you. To be fair, he was still the most attractive man alive, but he had dark circles around his eyes, and he looked as though he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. 

You lick your lips, which were now noticeably dry, building the courage to speak as you did so. “You were gonna pick me up from class on my birthday?”

His eyes go wide as he moves his gaze away from you for the first time since he opened the door. “I-”

“Hyuck.” You cut him off, staring up at him intently and getting him to crack with a huff of breath.

“Yeah…yeah I was. Jessica said it was your birthday. And we still weren’t friends then, but I would’ve felt bad not at least wishing you a happy birthday. So I texted Jessica to see where you were and decided I would just walk you back from class. And I-” He breaks off with a faint laugh as he recalls the memory. “I put on a pair of skinny jeans beforehand because I figured even if you hated me, you found me at least a little more tolerable in skinny jeans. Then I went to go pick you up. When you didn’t come out with the rest of your class, I went inside the lecture hall to see what was up or if I just missed you somehow. That’s when I saw you talking to your professor. That’s when I heard his comments. You weren’t even in anything close to scandalous anyways. You just dressed up for your birthday. You were pretty. That was it, so I figured it wasn’t a one-off thing. How you handled it made me think it wasn’t the first time for it to happen, either. You could barely see your wince. The same couldn’t be said for me, though. I was mad, fuming. I got out of there as soon as I could so that I’d be out of sight by the time you got out. If you saw me and started a conversation, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from bringing it up. God, I was so angry, and I figured that wasn’t what you wanted on your birthday.” He faced the ground while he spoke, but you studied his figure the entire time, your eyes finding their home as they landed on Haechan again after all this time. You hardly let him finish his last word before you speak up.

“Tell me you want to kiss me.” You say, and Haechan finally whips his head back up to face you, eyes wide in surprise. “Tell me you want to kiss me and have it mean something outside of these walls.”

“What?!” He responds, visibly thrown off. You don’t have the patience for it.

“Hyuck!” You say, and Haechan seems to come back to the moment, nodding his head rapidly.

“I do! I want to kiss you. Always.” 

The biggest of smiles overtakes your face as you press up on your tiptoes to finally lock your lips with his again. One of his hands immediately flew to your waist, while the other placed itself lightly on the side of your face, holding you as though one harsh movement would cause this moment to break, this dream to end. When you pull back for air, Haechan wastes no time. “Y/n, please be my girlfriend. Please be mine. Please let me tell the entire world that you’re mine.” He says, his intonation practically making it a beg. 

You nod your head before digging it into his chest in a tight hug. “I’m yours.” 

#Haechan #NCT Dream #NCT 127 #Haechan fic #Haechan x reader #NCT Dream x reader #NCT 127 x reader #nct x reader #Haechan fanfic #Haechan angst #Haechan fluff #NCT #NCT Dream fic #NCT 127 fic #Lee Donghyuck

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 2 of 3)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

-🌼🌼🌼-

Monday

December 12, 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somewhere bad? Good? In-between?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hence you being here.

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

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

We. I’m not alone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, you had a thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was perfect. Just as you’d imagined.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you, sweet baby.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My safe place. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My lavender. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was safe. This was home. 

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

Your safest place.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was time. 

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

Home, you thought. He looks like home. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No wonder you liked things so pristinely clean. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Living room. The living room. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like your current situation. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it just seemed to be getting closer. . .

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

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

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

“Y/n.”

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

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

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

A dark memory. Bad. So, so bad.

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

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

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

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

“Pig.”

No. Not that nickname. No no no.

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

The person on the couch.

“Piggy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked lost. . . Confused, yet furious. 

The fury, pointed towards you. 

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

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

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

Mr. Morgan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes. I’m safe. 

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

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

Then, you felt him. Jake. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart monitor. 

Shit.

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

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

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

And then you remembered. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit. 185. What the fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

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

A long fucking session.

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

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

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

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

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

And Jake was the person you wanted most. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stay focused, y/n.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cleared your throat to break up the air.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s just a blood circulation disorder. I think I’ve had it nearly all my life. But it can be brought on by stress and cause things like fainting. . .,” you trailed off, glancing down at your belly. “Which I was obviously feeling a lot of with the baby. I mean, talk about massive life change,” you smirked, rubbing the bump that was more and more noticeable every day. 

“And I was the only one who knew this giant thing for a bit. . . then only Elsie knew. And, yeah, when Josh found out, I was feeling a little better. Felt lighter. . .,” you paused, your next words, being important to you. “But I still wanted to tell you most,” your lips lifted in spite of yourself. “But, we weren’t really talking because of all the shit that happened between u–.”

You stopped yourself at that, though. Shit. Today didn’t really seem like the time to get into all of that. It had already been such a long day. 

The car stayed silent for a few beats. 

Once Jake started speaking again, your eyes found his handsome profile.

“Yeah. . .,” Jake offered in response to that, his jaw clenching. His eyes were dead-set on the road. The expression on his face, hard. Yet. . .it wasn’t angry. Not angry at all, just thoughtful. 

He seemed to be contemplating it all.

He proved you right with his next words, bringing you back. “I need you to know—I’m really fucking sorry for not being so present—for not noticing more. I wish I would’ve been more aware and been there for you. . . Shit, I should have noticed you weren’t eating normally and were constantly sick,” he rubbed his forehead once, jaw tight again as he spoke on the subject. “I was still just stuck in my own head over stuff — really hurt. I still am, I think. But, I also, more importantly, had no way of knowing that you were carrying my kid, so. . .,” he trailed off, clearing his throat. “So I didn’t watch too hard for things out of the ordinary — my mind was in other places.” 

Other places, your mind repeated, mocking you. Like Maya. . . 

Your stomach was still churning at the depressing thought of him having ignored you and still being hurt (albeit, you’d deserved it), when his voice echoed back through your train of thought. 

“I did notice you weren’t home that night, though. . . After dropping Maya off at her place, I got home and you weren’t there. I. . .,” he sniffed, running a nervous hand through his hair as he looked both ways to make a turn. “I panicked, noticed your chapstick and house key were on the ground outside — it made no fuckin’ sense. I called Josh to ask him where you were — assumed he’d know. And, he did. But he told me the bare fucking minimum. I didn’t even know you were at the emergency room. He just told me not to worry and cut me off with an ‘I love you’ before hanging up on me,” Jake rolled his eyes at the memory, fists gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Now I know it’s because you obviously really needed him. . . But at that point, I was so pissed. Obviously, you were in some sort of bind and there was nothing I could do to help since we were. . .,” he let his train of thought fade into nothing. Your mind was a frenzy of everything he was telling you, but you tuned back in when he began speaking again. “And then your heart monitor came in the mail. . . I didn’t even think about how they could be connected. I just knew the very little Josh had told me from that night and then I saw a damn heart monitor show up. . . I was just super fucking confused and terrified for you. . . I was trying my best to connect all of the dots.”

“Well. . .,” you started, not sure if you should say what you were thinking. But still, you did. “It wasn’t really any of your business at that point. I didn’t want to make you— it was just a lot to process for me and we. . .,” you trailed off, at a loss. Still so tired from the session. “I don’t know. . . I had reasons.”

“I know, y/n,” he responded, voice tight with masked emotion. 

You didn’t know what to say after that. Your eyes were trained on what was outside the passenger side window.

The air in the car was dense, slightly awkward on your end. 

It was strange how weird things could feel after a damn conversation when, just a week ago in this very car, you’d had him in your mouth. 

It was slightly embarrassing that a hard conversation topic was what it took to make both of you freeze up. But, somehow, you could still find the wherewithal to have your mouth on his. . . Mhm.

That was what you got for making sex such a giant thing before. . . now you’d made that easy and everything else fucking taboo. 

But the sex had just been too good to not make it something you did all the damn time. . . 

God, you missed sex with him. . . Him, inside of you, his hips going at a perfect pace. . .

Thanks to your motherfucking hormones, you were back in the living room floor with him. . . So often, you went back to that one rainy morning with Aretha Franklin on the turntable. . .

The look on his face when you fucked him, one of your favorite sights. That morning, just like always, he’d watched you so closely. . . Your face, your breasts, your ass, or your pussy that was wrapped around him, so tight. 

As he fucked you so slow and purposeful, a hand raising your leg to get a better angle, he hit a secret spot inside of you. Your toes had curled as you whined his name.

And just as his name fell from your lips, he’d scrunched his brows, and let his mouth fall open with certain movements of his hips. His jaw, clenched, when you’d flex around him or biting his lip when you’d let out a shaky breath. . . 

“Y/n?”

“Yes?” You shook your head of the fucking delicious scene in your memories. 

Now was not the time. 

To show respect, you did your best to wipe the picture and put your full attention on him. You glanced at him. He looked so beautiful under the natural light of the early evening and the streetlights. And his hair looked so healthy and long. . .

“I’m not upset or anything that you kept any of it from me,” he ventured to explain, your mind coming back to the topic at hand. “I need you to know that.”

“You’ve kind of already told me all of this before,” you started with a smile, eyeing the radio for a bit. 

Music. You needed music. 

You began to mess with the buttons, turned down the volume, and hooked your phone up to the aux. “I know you, Jake,” you continued with a sigh, scrolling your playlists, finding a song you were suddenly craving to hear. “I know you well enough to know you aren’t upset with me for keeping it all from you for a bit. You have a good heart.”

“You give me too much credit,” he humorously laughed. “I’m not always so sure about how good I am these days — kind of always doubted that about myself and right now is no different.”

At his words and sound of disbelief, you looked over at him with a wrinkle in your brow. His own eyebrows were set with an odd, unreadable emotion. You hadn’t clicked the song to play yet. This was too important to not address.

“Jacob,” you said sternly. His eyes stayed glued to the busier street. “I don’t give you ‘too much credit’.  I just see you and know you well – anyone who truly matters sees you for who you truly are. I, like all of them, love y— appreciate everything you are.” 

Shit. What was that that almost slipped from your lips?! Nothing. It was nothing. Ignore, ignore, ignore. . . 

You were just hormonal and emotional. 

You continued with intent to make your point known, doing your best to forget the slip-up. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes – we all have. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m not about to hold anything against you right now.”

Cracking a smile, you decided you wanted to throw in a bit of a joke. “I mean, I would have to hold it against you if you killed someone or some shit,” you giggled, his own raspy laugh joining you. 

But fuck, you couldn’t ignore that one emotion you were feeling. . .

It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. You didn’t know why the fuck you’d said that word of all words.

But this feeling. . . It was intense like love could be. It had your heart in your throat and your tummy tied in nervous knots. . . 

You’d felt a need to say the words. A need for him to know how much you. . . how much you. . . How much you what, exactly?!

This was going to drive you fucking nuts. 

So, to break the nonstop, crazy wave of thought, you played the song you felt like playing at the moment. 

The song was “In the Moment” by Snoh Aalegra, one of your favorite R&B goddesses. 

And, of course, the lyrics matched your heart. Perfectly. Oddly. Precisely. Music was your favorite language.

Do you mind if I try to come apologize to you?

'Cause I said some things that I realized wasn't true

You couldn’t stop your movements when your head slowly turned to look in his direction. His sunglasses were off due to the darker sky, so you could see every blink of his pretty eyes, long lashes touching the dark circles under his eyes with each blink. He watched the road carefully, maneuvered around cars with an ease that had you hoping he’d be around to drive you to the hospital on a certain day in May. . . 

Your heart swelled in your chest at his attention to the road. This particularly protective nature of his, as the driver, was new. . .

And I'm sorry for it 

I'm emotional 

This is your fault 

Please listen when I say 

I care about you

You tried to look away from him. Really, you did. It just couldn’t be helped. The way these lyrics kept pulling something from deep within your soul as you watched him drive. . .

But you still couldn’t figure out what was getting pulled in you, exactly. It felt weird, but only in a fulfilling way. . . Your heart ached, your head clouded with all things surrounding him. 

And then, just as he stopped at a red light, his eyes met yours. 

You had been caught red handed in your stare, but it didn’t seem to matter. Not to you, not to him. He smiled at you, the same, warm smile you knew all too well to be uniquely his. (And hopefully your baby’s.) 

The lyrics and melody of the song were adding to your already emotionally-tangled state. You just wanted to be with him always—hold him tight so he couldn’t leave. Never wanted him to leave.

Out of pure instinct, your hands found rest on your tummy, tucking underneath the bump. His smile only grew, stretching wide on his lips as his eyes followed the movement. Your heart did a little flip in your chest. 

This moment. . .

His foot let off the brake when the light turned green, pulling his eyes away from yours. The music coasting through the speakers said all the things you so desperately wanted to say. Though, Snoh sang them far more beautifully than you could ever say them yourself.

I was in the moment

I ain't really mean what I said to you

So put away your pride, baby

We can work it out if you want this, too

You hoped on every star in the winter sky that Jake was listening to the words, somehow feeling them as deeply as you were.

But if I could stay, I’d stay with you. . .

Your phone ringing snapped you out of your reverie and when you looked down to see who it was, you were not expecting the contact you saw. 

The OB office. 

Your heart started speeding up in your chest again, breath catching and nerves wracking your system at the most inopportune time. As you turned down the song to talk to the person on the other end, you contemplated why they were calling. . .

The appointment had already been rescheduled. . . So what else could be needed? Was something wrong?

You felt Jake’s palm splay across your thigh, fingers giving light, pulsing grips to the muscle through the fabric of your leggings. Skin heating at his touch, you looked up and over at him. 

“Who?” He whispered, quietly as he could. 

“OBGYN,” you mouthed back, clicking the green button to answer at the same time that he raised a brow in confusion.

“Hello?” You spoke into the phone, trying to keep your voice even-toned for whoever called you.

“Miss y/n?” Dr. Rose responded. Her Southern accent, friendly, on the other end, sounding happy as a lark. 

Hearing her sound okay helped your nerves ease up – weren’t quite as frayed as they had been to begin with. Jake’s hand was still on your leg, offering reassurance. But while his touch did comfort you, it also made your heart rate speed up and head swim for another reason entirely. 

Thankfully, considering the baby, your heart was slowing down. . . If Dr. Rose sounded fine, then surely things were fine, right? 

“Hi, Dr. Rose,” you said, voice perking up just the slightest bit. Looking out the windshield, you focused on the pretty colors in the sky. All light pinks, oranges, and the prettiest periwinkle thanks to the winter evening’s premature setting sun. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, more than, Sweet Cakes! Just checkin’ in to see that Friday still works for ya,” she explained, her drawl not quite as thick the more she spoke. But it was still there and it made you feel warm inside for some reason. 

Admittedly, you knew it was partially due to the fact that she seemed to only be calling to confirm your appointment. According to Dr. Rose, everything was ‘more than’ alright. . . you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

“Yeah. It works for me,” you sighed, running a nervous hand through your hair, knee still bouncing with the unexpectedness of the phone call. “Let me check with Jake real quick. I’m with him right now,” you held your hand over the speaker, looking over to your handsome driver. He’d just made it onto a highway, but momentarily glanced down at you. You hushed your next question, not wanting to disturb Dr. Rose. “Does Friday still work for you? For the week 17 appointment?”

Jake’s face opened up at the question, his eyes brightening with a smile that lifted the corner of his mouth. “Of course,” he quietly responded. “I have the whole day blocked off just for that.”

Your stomach did somersaults at him being so excited for the appointment, but you still dipped your eyebrows in at him. “You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered back. “Take the whole day for it.”

Jake shook his head, and with a dimple in his cheek, he just looked back at the road. Didn’t even acknowledge what you said any further. 

You closed your eyes, a small smile on your lips at his desire to be fully available – it gave you butterflies. Back to the phone call at hand, you faced the windshield again to continue the call with your OB. “Dr. Rose?” 

“Yes ma’am,” she excitedly greeted back.

“It still works for us,” you said, the smile not fading from your lips. Us. You really, really loved the sound of that word coming off your tongue. “Are you sure you’re still okay doing the appointment before week 18? I know how you feel about all of that. . .”

You didn’t know why you were asking – shouldn’t have even said anything. The idea of putting it off any longer was not what you wanted, and you didn’t want to make Dr. Rose think you’d be okay with that. But, it was too late now. You’d already asked. 

“Oh, yes, babygirl. I’m the one that made ya wait past week 16! I felt bad, but I didn’t want ya to have any lull period,” she boomed on the other end, sounding so genuinely kind-hearted. It made your heart feel so full. “Completely fine with me – why I offered it to ya! I gotta admit, I’m a little excited to be findin’ out the gender a week earlier than normal. Ya know I never do that for my girls, but you’ve just seemed very special to me since the day you walked in. You’re a good seed in a bag ‘a bad ones, sweetie pie. So, I just had to make an exception.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Rose,” you gushed, a tear coming to the corner of your eye at her sentiment.

“I knew it would drive ya nuts havin’ to wait.”

“It would have,” you giggled, agreeing with a sniff to attempt to rid yourself of the tear. 

She laughed heartily on the other end. “You have a beautifully passionate heart, little miss y/n,” she remarked. “You’re goin’ to be a wonderful mama for it.” 

Aaand, there was no stopping the tear as it turned into a couple more, drifting down your cheek. 

Jake must have looked over at the perfect time, because as soon as the tears fell, he was squeezing your thigh once more. His hand had never left your body. 

But, you really needed him to stop holding you and caring because you were going to pounce on him. No questions asked. . .especially with the fluffy headspace you were in. 

Emotional over a phone call or not, your body reacted to him in ways you couldn’t stop.

“How’s your heart?” Dr. Rose was in your ear again, bringing you back. She was in no rush whatsoever. You were shocked that she seemed to want to keep the conversation going. Even after the first question, she continued with another. “I know ya filled me in on it a little bit last week on the phone, but any more updates?”

“Doing alright, I think,” you responded, sniffling at her eagerness to stay updated on your wellbeing. Was she just being a good doctor? Probably. But, still. It meant a lot to you. “I will send my monitor in on the 17th. I’m so ready to be done with it,” you replied with a huff of a laugh, looking down to mess with a loose string on your oversized jacket. “And I think everything else has gotten much better since that ER visit, too. Just keeping an eye on things,” you finished, happy to explain everything to her. 

This phone call was officially a highlight to your day now that you knew there was no reason to stress over it. Dr. Rose just made you feel good. You really enjoyed talking to the older Southern woman. Her heart shone through her personality. And, whether she made these efforts for all patients or not (you were sure she did), it just meant the world to you that she seemed to be so thoughtful. 

She seemed to take very seriously that it was a vulnerable time in any woman’s life. Dr. Rose just seemed to do very well at her job. You were grateful for her.

“When Mount Sinai sent over that information all those weeks ago, I gotta be honest, it stressed me for ya for a bit,” she said, voice suddenly thick with a sort of concerned emotion. Not worried anymore, you could tell that much. But, it was obvious she had been troubled by it when it initially happened, from the way she sounded now. 

“Although, when I read all of their tests on my end, I knew you’d be okay. Just a bump in the road, sweetie – it happens. You will be just fine!” She reassured you in her twang, the words made your head clear in a way you’d needed since the night at the hospital. “And, that sweet baby was doing so great still, in spite of it all. You’ve got a strong one, mama.”

Yeah, there was no stopping the onslaught of tears at those words. Your baby was strong. You were so proud. 

“Yeah?” You sniffed. “You think so?”

“I know so. That little one was movin’ and groovin’ already that first day. . . that sure doesn’t happen with every baby! He or she is very special – just like their mama,” she emphasized, sniffling on her own end of the phone. “Well. . . . as long as this Friday still works for you, I think I can let ya go, honey bun.”

“Yes, it does,” you confirmed once more, pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and patting your cheeks with it. “Thank you again.”

“No need to thank me, Sweet Cakes.” You could hear her smile through the phone, imagined her lips covered in the prettiest bright red matte lipstick. “You have a good nigh– oh! Before ya go. . . .”

“Yes?” you questioned curiously, eyebrow raising with a little grin on your lips. 

“You mentioned a Jake earlier. Does this Jake happen to be the baby’s daddy?”

You blushed, looking over at him. He glanced over at you at the same time, an eyebrow raising when you caught his eye. Your cheeks heated even more when you looked into his eyes. Your baby’s daddy. 

“He is the baby’s daddy, yeah,” you explained, continuing to watch him as you said the words. He had to keep his eye on the road, but you saw how his lips stretched, the smile showing his pride at the title.

“And he will be comin’?”

“He will be there,” you affirmed, your heart racing in your chest at the idea of him being there with you. It had you equal parts jittery and utterly overjoyed to have him be present at the appointments.

“Wonderful. Sounds like a good daddy already,” she gushed from her end of the phone. 

And when he came to the next light, much nearer to the complex, you watched him and waited until he looked over at you. When his eyes found yours, glowing amber-brown in the nearly-set sun, your heart squeezed inexplicably in your chest. 

“He is a really good daddy,” you answered, tears threatening to clog your throat. 

After you said the words, you watched his eyes become wet with an unnamed emotion. A wide, slightly shaky grin on his pretty lips. With the addition of a pink blush in his cheeks, you wanted to be able to read the exact way he was feeling. 

But. . . at the current moment he suddenly seemed impossible to read. There was something behind his eyes that seemed so familiar and so hazy all at once. . .

Or maybe you were just really, really tired.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I don’t have to go to this tonight,” Jake offered, pulling into the complex. 

You raised a brow, looking at him. As much as you wanted him to stay with you after today’s session, you knew that sleep was the first priority. He’d end up sitting around most of the night anyway.

If things were different, you would ask him to lay down with you. You’d keep him close. But. . . That wasn’t how things were for the two of you. 

You needed a nap and he needed to be with his girlfriend. As much as it sucked, she took priority over you. He wasn’t yours.

You already felt selfish enough for taking his entire early evening away from him. You didn’t want to steal any more of his night. 

“No, Jake,” you giggled, trying your best to play off the want to have him near. “I’m good. You’ve done everything you can for me tonight. Don’t need you for anything else — you’re free.”

It was silent for a little bit as Jake found his parking space. You were too tired to keep any sort of conversation going, preparing to doze against the window as he went to back into his space. 

Though, when he placed his hand on the headrest behind you to back in, you couldn’t help but turn to glance up at him. 

The way he held his bottom lip between his teeth as he focused on situating the Jeep into the parking space, just right. . . You felt guarded and protected by the placement of his arm above you. It made your tummy flip. 

And the mustache that kept making a reappearance on his pretty face, accentuating his plush lips perfectly. . . 

You licked your lips as you watched him, your eyes lazy as you let your stare wander down his body . . . 

But before you could get too far, Jake’s deep, raspy tone broke through to you.

“Hey.” 

Fuck. Your tiredness was quickly becoming enemy number one, exposing you.

Quickly, you flicked your eyes up to him, swallowing thickly, awaiting him with vulnerability clear on your features. 

For some reason, you expected to see him grinning at you being caught. But his features were unwaveringly straight, studying your face with his eyebrows drawn in concentration.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes soon finding yours to pierce through. Damn, you felt naked under his stare. No two ways about it. 

Your eyes sunk into his, wishing you were naked—.

“You’ve had a long day and I want to be available—.”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off, needing to get out of the car before you made a stupid move. You just needed rest; your tiredness was making you weak. 

“Please. Go have fun,” you encouraged further, looking down to observe your nails, desperate to be repainted. Shaking your head, you continued to solidify your point. “You’ve done enough for me. You have a girlfriend who’s expecting you to be with her tonight.”

And if you stay here tonight, there’s no telling what I’ll try to do with you. . . 

“‘Kay,” he responded. At his short tone, your eyes floated up to check on him. You watched as he quickly grabbed his keys out of the ignition, refusing to look at you until the last second. “I’ve gotta get going pretty soon then.”

“Yeah,” you breathed with a shake of your head, unsure of what else to say. And before he could get your door for you, you were doing it yourself — didn’t want to get in his way. 

Whatever this conversation had become, it was far too much for your brain to wrap around at this moment. 

You needed fucking sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

After you’d filled your Stanley and sat it on your bedside table, your next mission was to change into looser, cozier clothes. You stripped your pants and bra, and found a giant t-shirt. And your softest fuzzy socks had been a last minute must have before finding your bed. 

Finally.

Almost as soon as you landed on your bed, your eyes were fluttering closed. The softness of your sheets and duvet, the cleanliness and the comfort of your bed was too incredible for you to resist sleep for long. 

At the same time, Jake was getting ready for his time with Maya, and had apparently decided to shower. When the steady stream of water sounded through the wall, you relaxed even further. You focused on the soothing sound of the shower running and imagined how near he was to you. 

He hadn’t left you yet.

Admittedly, putting your mind on Jake going about his business made you feel quite at home. 

And that thought had been the seemingly final step to finding rest, sleep finding you quite easily with easy thoughts of your handsome roommate. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

But, to your disdain, the nap didn’t last as long as you’d hoped. 

After only a couple of hours, you’d woken up and couldn’t go back to sleep to get any more rest. You tried to fall asleep again. It was all you’d wanted after your emotionally exhausting day. 

The longer you laid in your bed and tried to find more sleep, you realized it was just not going to happen. The small apartment felt too big and empty and your mind raced with the scene you’d witnessed during EMDR. 

To your demise, the little wooden box had somehow cracked open a little while you slept. You figured it was because you’d dreamt of what you’d seen in therapy. Your subconscious was working without your complete consent. 

That man with the thick fingers and clenched fists. . . He’d come floating out of the box first as you laid underneath your fluffy, white, clean bed covers. . . 

Mr. Morgan. . . Who was he? You could not place his role in it all yet. . . While you were able to remember him and his living room now, that was about where it stopped. 

The smell of him had stuck with you most since the memory. The potentness of his body odor in your subconscious had been a severe trigger – a trigger to things you weren’t capable of remembering yet. 

But, you knew that whenever those things did get conjured up again, you wouldn’t be ready. You just knew. The feeling alone that came associated with him and seeing him again. . . made you feel grimy – made your skin crawl like bugs were living underneath your flesh. 

Then there was your mother. You hadn’t been able to recall the distinct features of her face for years. Your grandparents didn’t have pictures of her up in their home – only ones of you and Elsie through the years. It was like she hadn’t ever existed. 

But today? Today she was back. Full force. You felt her. You smelled her. You saw every. single. feature. 

The stringiness of your mom’s hair when she’d been with the man in the recollected vision. . . 

You couldn’t help but compare the hair in the vision to the fullness of it in small memories you cherished. . . There was a certain Christmas memory you kept close, her sweater had been brand new. Her hair, naturally brown and billowing out beautifully behind her. You had a few of those moments in time. A few decent memories you’d never let go completely away. No matter how much time passed or how foggy they became, you held onto them.

What struck you as disheartening was the way the woman transitioned from one version of herself to another in the fragments of time you could grasp. You remembered, it was rare to consistently witness the same mom growing up. You’d been forced at a young age to confront the fact that you never truly knew the woman that gave birth to you.

She’d been very dirty more times than not, you could remember that much now. From what you were beginning to recall, she rarely smelled good. Showers hadn’t seemed to be her forte from the grease that had been constantly caked in her hair if she wasn’t with your grandparents. Her skin had even been oily from her lack of showers, just as greasy as her hair. 

The houses she had you living in, too. . . you could vaguely picture a few of those (besides Mr. Morgan’s). The one you were in within your recollected memory today had been so filthy. The grossness of the environment was coming to you in small bits. There’d been times you’d seen families of cockroaches climb into the pantry. . . Or when an occasional rat would scurry across the stained carpet, right past your feet. . . 

You shivered in your bed at the thought, toes wiggling against your soft socks and covers. The loose sheet and duvet came closer to your chin as you tried to completely envelop yourself in your current reality. Things were safe.

It was just a-fucking-lot to process alone. And the last thing you wanted to do was burden anyone else with it. So, even if Jake had stayed with you rather than Maya after therapy, you knew you’d still be swirling in circles in your mind. 

You were just glad you only had to wait a week for therapy to continue digging through this with the help of your therapist. 

The images of the man and your mother kept flip-flopping in your mind, not leaving you alone — each taking turns in mocking your peace. It was enough that you felt your breath become choppy and your heart begin to race in your chest. Your clammy hands were clenching and unclenching over and over again, trying to find some sort of relief and distraction from the thoughts. The smells were coming back to you, vivid as they’d been during your therapy today. . . 

And the moment you began to hear that distant, haunting chuckle from your past, embedded in the new flashes of memory, you shut your eyes. You squeezed your lids together so tightly. Your fists came to cover your eyes, pushing down on them just a little to see stars alongside the black. 

Yet, the sound continued to get closer and closer to you. Desperately, you thought back on Gia’s advice should this happen. 

One of the small pieces of advice she’d given you, when the session’s time was five-minutes passed.  

“Now, if these things come back or more memories come to you and you would rather not think of them in the moment they do: take a break,” Gia had advised, going to hold your hands in hers between the two of you. “Take a break, wherever you are, and go to your safe place.”

She’d given you a couple of other things to try, but she’d stayed insistent that you try the safe place first. Every time. Get used to the place, make it a habit to run to it in these times. 

So, you tried your damnedest to shut the thoughts out like you would on her soft, camel leather couch. Your eyes closed as you tried, working to focus on the idea of traveling to a field of lavender and Jake. 

Though before you could get any further, your eyes snapped open, knowing you had one more step before you went there. 

You tried to even your breathing, unclenching your fists. Once you’d relaxed enough to loosen your hands, you searched for some meditation music on Spotify. 

And once you’d found a dreamy playlist, you laid back to feel it. Your goal: feel it enough to let go. 

This time when you closed your eyes, you did it with less force and breathed in and out, in and out. Once again, everything was black. . . but just for the first minute or so. 

It didn’t take long for you to hear the birds chirping and to feel the solid chest breathing beneath you. He breathed deeply – in and out, in and out, just as you did.

Almost as soon as you felt your body settle into him and the soft ground of the earth, you heard him speak, too. It was like you were hearing him through a rush of warm wind, a breeze drifting across your face. “You’re doing great, baby,” he soothed you in his velvety tone, running a sure hand through your hair, fingers tracing your scalp. You shivered, enjoying the wonderful feeling it gave you, all the way to the tips of your toes. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Further, you pushed into him, wanting to be as close to him as you could be. You wrapped your arms around him the best you could while laying down, needing to feel his body tightly against your own. When you did this, he wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you into him. Your round belly, pressed between the two of you, made your heart settle into a soothing thrum in your chest. 

No other words were said as you laid there, the sky blue when you finally opened your eyes to the new place. The field of lavender, so lucious and smelling heavenly around you. The purple flower surrounding you smelled clean, peaceful, and a lot like. . . love. It was a strange idea that a flower would smell like love, but you’d come to associate it with someone who–.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. 

Your eyes opened at a moment’s notice when you heard a knock on the front door. Somehow, the sound against the door managed to break you from your hypnotic-like reverie. The knocks weren’t small or soft thuds by any means, but it was odd that you’d heard them all the way through to your sacred place. All the way through your bedroom door. . . 

Though, thankfully, after having a bit of time to visit the safest place your mind could conjure up, you were on the path to feeling fine again. So after laying in bed for a few more seconds, you got up and padded to the door in your fluffy socks.

Before you opened the door, you peeked through the peephole. 

When you did, your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. Your breathing evened out significantly for the first time since waking from your nap. And without any hesitancy, you unlatched the chain and unlocked the knob and deadbolt. 

As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted by Jake, a very apologetic smile on his face. One of his hands covered his eyes in feigned embarrassment, making a slit in his fingers to look at you through them. His other hand was tucked in the front pocket of his black slacks. 

He’d changed clothes after dropping you off. 

Duh, he’d showered, y/n. He wouldn’t be wearing the same dirty clothes afterwards . . . 

He was now dressed very nicely, his hair looking so healthy and full. A few strands were still damp here and there, from the shower you’d heard him start as you’d fallen asleep for your nap.

And goddamn. He smelled so fucking delicious – you could’ve melted into him. 

Rather than focusing on the way the hints of sandalwood and vanilla in his cologne made you feel airy, you asked the question you couldn’t help but wonder. “Where is your key?” 

A hint of a laugh was present in your tone as you crossed your arms over your boobs – which you noticed were slightly less sore than normal. 

Pleasant surprise. 

Oh, fuck. Your boobs. No bra. Only wearing a giant t-shirt and fuzzy socks. The thong you were wearing was a poor excuse at covering your ass. 

Glancing down briefly, you were reassured by the length. It was long enough to fully cover your backside, went down your thighs a bit. . . but you still felt very bare. 

When you looked up, you found that Jake had noticed your lack of clothing at the same time as you. His stare burned through your t-shirt, all the way down to your blushing skin. Your chest was heaving of its own accord, nipples hardening at the attention from him. . . 

His gaze soon dropped down to your lips, his own parting as his tongue went to wet his mouth.

No. You had to be the responsible one here. You could do it. 

So, you forced a subtle short cough, toes wiggling in your fuzzy socks. And, thankfully, it brought him back to the current situation. 

His wide, brown eyes snapped to yours, staying there momentarily. It made your cheeks pink — the way he was unashamedly sharing this moment with you. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all as he bit his lip with a grin stretched over his lips. 

Fuck.

“Your key?” You tried again with a squeak. Rolling your eyes, your short cough was real this time as you had to clear your throat. Ridiculous.

Not saying anything, he responded like nothing had occurred before. He motioned with his head towards the kitchen bar behind you. Your head turned to follow his eyes. And, you found his keys, still laying on the counter, not having been touched since before he left. 

“Did Maya pick you up?” You asked him, arching a brow at the keys. 

“Yes.”

“How’d you get back?” Okay, y/n, now’s not the time for twenty questions. 

“Uber,” he simply answered, a little hiccup following the word.

“Well. . . did you come back for them to drive yourself?” You asked, turning back around to face him, hoping he wouldn’t say ‘yes’. You selfishly wanted him to stay. 

For the first time since you’d woken up, your body felt light. . . . And, you’d noticed it had happened the exact moment you saw him outside your door. 

Shaking his head, he finally looked at you head-on, and you could see his eyes were the slightest bit unfocused. 

Oh. . . A smirk rested on your lips as you crossed your arms once more.

He had a goofy, carefree smile on his lips. And then you smelled it — the slightest tinge of alcohol on him as he swayed a bit towards you. 

Raising a brow, your lips continued to match his grin. Giggling, you pondered aloud, “Did you have a drink or two, babe?” 

You didn’t say that last word. Nope. 

“Maaaaybe,” he said, shrugging with both hands in his pockets now, the silly smile still plastered to his lips. “It was a party, after all,” he tagged on to the end, a bit of a British lilt falling over his words. 

A party. Hm. For some reason, you hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility. Why did the fact that it’d been a party make your stomach turn a little bit? 

“A party?” You inquired, tucking your arms a little closer against your chest. And there was the tenderness again. 

“Maya’s baby sister— eight years younger than Maya,” he over-explained, tripping over himself a little as he made his way through the door without any warning. “Turned twenty one today.”

Oh, that explains the excessive drinking, you gathered mentally. 

But, as you stood there connecting the dots, you didn’t focus enough on the fact that he was falling into you through the door frame. Thankfully, you put your arms out in time to stop him from bumping into you to the point of knocking you over. But when you put your arms out to stop his fall, he got the wrong idea and put his arms out as well, crashing into you a bit as he wrapped them around you in a secure embrace. 

It took a bit for you to register what was happening as you stood in shock at the gentle gesture amidst his drunkenness. And while you were registering it all, he must’ve gotten the idea that you didn’t want him so close to you. So, very slowly, he pulled away. 

Rather awkwardly, you just stood there, arms still held out in shock from the sudden hug. 

Why were you surprised at all? He’d been like this recently – just today at counseling, he’d been extremely attentive, holding you when you’d needed him. . . 

Was this time different? Was it because now he was doing it for virtually no reason at all? You weren’t in need of his help or his comfort (that he knew of) at the moment. And, he still wanted to hug you – that was what caught you completely off guard. 

He’s drunk, y/n, a voice reminded you. Don’t overthink it. It’s just because he’s inebriated. 

And while you stood in the doorway, he continued to traipse past you, body lopsided and shaky. He was being very careful to not bump into you again, turning his body in odd ways. 

When you turned to observe him, as he made it past you, you noticed that in the process of trying to steer clear of you, he was losing his balance – quite quickly. 

So, you did the only thing you could think to do and followed behind him to help however you could. 

He wouldn’t remember it anyway.

When he started putting too much weight on one foot and started tilting a bit too far to the side, you acted on instinct. 

You wrapped your arms around his midsection. 

It proved to be a bit of a feat to keep him upright and on his feet, but you tried your hardest. The man was wonderfully built. . . but solid as a rock.

Has he been working out? You couldn’t help but wonder this as your arms pressed a bit more into his strong abdomen.

You realized that thought process could become a distraction to the task at hand in no time, so you put it to the back of your mind. Instead, you just put all of your concentration into helping him stay on the track he desired. . . . Which happened to be his bedroom. 

While trying to keep him stable, you felt your belly press further into his back. The baby felt safer there, between the two of you. It felt right to be so close. . .

But, again, you focused on the important goal of getting Jake in bed. You just kept him pressed to you the best you could with a baby in the way. Matching his footing from behind, you walked in even step with him. 

Once you were officially at his door, you reached around him to open his door for him. When your hand met the knob and twisted it, he reached forward, placing his hand over yours to open it with you. The gentle action made your skin flame. 

Though, it didn’t last long. You didn’t pause, instead continuing into the room. And the moment you walked into the room, he tapped your arm, presumably to let you know he was okay on his own. So, you tentatively let go. 

Your arms suddenly felt empty, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. 

He seemed to be a little better now, sitting down on his bed. He did it with more effort than normally necessary, but he still seemed more capable than he’d been a few minutes ago. 

So, without a word, you went to head out of his room. Right before you could walk out the door, though, you heard him from behind you. 

“Where you going?” He asked sadly, sounding more like a neglected child than a grown man. 

Turning around with a brow raised, you asked the question with your eyes before saying it aloud. “Why? You’re good now, right?”

His eyes zoned out momentarily on your face. You just blamed it on the alcohol, feeling woozy. When he came back to Earth, his eyes met yours. His eyes suddenly seemed much clearer than before. All of the air in your lungs evaporated at the look he was giving you. Desperation was the most fitting word for it. 

“I’m not good without you,” he offered, his eyes darting to his feet almost directly after saying the words. He leaned down to sloppily take off his boots, but still neatly placed them next to his bed after taking them off. 

It was honestly pretty funny to watch. You would’ve been more amused if your mind wasn’t still reeling a bit from his words. You zoned out on his guitar, placed neatly on its stand.

He. is. drunk, y/n, your internal heckler reminded you. Stop overthinking.

But. . . drunk words are honest –.

“Can you help?” Jake asked, sounding desperate while trying to achieve a task.

You looked over at him, finding him standing now and struggling to take off a necklace. Without argument, you left where you’d been standing, dejected and confused, by the doorway, to help him. 

When you made it over to him, you tapped his hands where they struggled with the latch at the nape of his neck. 

“Let me,” you insisted, replacing his hands with yours when he moved them. 

Once the necklace was taken off, you made your way around him to place the jewelry on his bedside table, whose lamp bathed the room in golden light. 

You glanced down at the necklace, running a finger down the face of the medallion. Medusa. That was who was etched into the gold metal. 

“You into Greek mythology right now?” You questioned, peeking over your shoulder at him.

When you did, the sight that beheld you took you by total surprise. Shirtless. Shirt gone. No shirt. Jake, halfway naked. 

“Oh,” you uttered the word in a moan more than anything else. You even felt your jaw drop the slightest bit. You didn’t really think anything of it. You didn’t really care to control your reactions. He wouldn’t remember any of this. You just kept telling yourself that.

And with the way the heat flooded from your head all the way to your chest, blossoming to the pit of your tummy – you didn’t think you could control your reactions. Then, when he absentmindedly adjusted himself in his pants. . . Yep. 

You bit your lip, tucking hair behind your ear. Suddenly, you felt completely out of control of your body. . . Your hormones were calling the shots – they (and Jake) were making you feel unsteady in the best possible way. 

The only downside was: there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Morals stood in the way of your bodies colliding and fucking it out. 

You understood that the Jeep incident had happened. Of-fucking-course — there was no forgetting that shit. But a big part of you also thought it would be best to leave the other night in the Jeep in the past.

It wasn’t fair to anyone involved. Right? 

So. . . You just focused on the present moment. No sex. Just Jake in front of you. Tried to ignore the surge of want for him at seeing half of him bare. 

But goddamn — what a beautifully welcome sight. . . 

His body had changed in the handsomest of ways. His thighs, as you’d noticed recently, were thicker than before. And he was. . . just broader than before. It started at the width of his shoulders, and worked down his abdomen to fill out with toned, tight muscle — his new addition of muscle was thick beneath the surface. There was just more of him altogether. The perfect amount of body for you to touch, kiss, lick. . . . . goddammit.

He still wasn’t looking at you, instead making his way to the laundry hamper across the room. You observed the way the muscle in his back flexed as he walked. The expanse of skin under his shoulder blades — his back was thick with new strength. . .What in the sweet hell? 

When he carefully swiveled on his heel to make his way back to you, after tossing the shirt in the basket, you still didn’t take your eyes from him. Just admired the sight and the fact that watching him could be your own little secret. . . 

A secret not even for Jake to know.

Though, as if on cue, his line of sight connected with yours. And when it did – damn. Your heart hammered hard in your chest. Your breath was trapped in your throat, all of it stolen from you. 

His chocolate eyes, although hazy from alcohol, were so fucking dark. Dark in the same way they’d been in his Jeep last week. 

He looked the same as he had right before you’d bent over his lap. The same way he’d eyed you as you’d been on top of him – licking him, sucking him, touching him. . . 

So, instead of holding his eyes, you decided you had to look away before you made matters any worse than they were at the present moment. 

Awkwardly, you started your next sentence without taking time to think about it. “You good now, Ja–?”

“What was your question?” 

When he interrupted you, you wanted to look back at him. But you didn’t. Not with the way his voice was suddenly much fuller – deeper, raspier. . . 

Coughing to mask any sort of embarrassing action, you tried your best to think back to what you’d asked. You couldn’t even remember. . . oh. Medusa. Pointless question. Didn’t matter.

“It was noth–.”

“I don’t care. Still wanna know.”

“Jake, it seriously doesn’t matt–.”

“Look at me, y/n,” he demanded, daring to be argued with. “Quit acting like we’re strangers.”

God. Your teeth found your lip, biting harder with a deep inhale. You let the plumpness of your bottom lip fall from your teeth with a tight exhale. Your tongue pressed into your cheek, eyebrows knit with frustration, when you peered up at him. 

Fuck it all. This was why you hadn’t let yourself look at him. 

His hungry eyes scanned your body when he got his way. He stood there admiring all of you, but his eyes were zeroed in on your ass, not leaving it.

You looked down to get an idea of what he was looking at. 

And, to your horror, you noticed that the t-shirt had ridden up, completely exposing the bottom curve of your ass cheeks. 

But, you didn’t move to change it. Instead, you decided to just stand there. Let him look. You wanted him to. This wouldn’t even count in the morning when he forgot it all.

You definitely weren’t offended by his staring. Not in the slightest. Just sort of made you nervous where things would lead if he didn’t stop observing the exposed skin.

Diversion. 

“Jake,” you purposefully spoke his name, vying for his attention up top, rather than having his eyes on your ass. 

You got your wish. Sort of. His eyes dragged from your ass to your thighs. . . Only to stop at your tits. Your skin was flushed and your skin was tingling. Your breasts, heavy under his stare and nipples tightly peaked against your oversized shirt. 

Fuck. Your body really was your worst enemy — constantly gave you away. Pregnancy hormones were a pain in the ass. 

So, you did the only thing you could think to do: you watched him watch you. The idea of his eyes burning into you without the ability to control it. . . It was almost too much for you to handle. 

Then, he wet his lips, afterwards biting into his plump bottom lip. You might as well have been naked under his stare, completely at his mercy. 

His gaze stayed consistent on your chest, residing long enough to have you feeling so desperately needy for him. . . but, eventually, his eyes moved up to your face. 

You missed his stare on your body as soon as it was gone.

“You’re so fucking—goddamn,” he breathed, his expression still dazed. But, now it was from more than alcohol. Maybe not from alcohol at all. “Do you know how good you look carrying my baby?”

Your head became a flurried mess at his words, the feeling carrying all the way down to your toes. 

“Jake,” you tried, not sure what else to say besides his name. 

But he didn’t respond with words. No, all he did was walk closer to you, still half-dressed. Seeing so much of his body made you feel so utterly pathetic for him. 

In a split second, before you could even wrap your mind around it, his hands found your waist. A soft, yet firm hold of your body. His eyes were locked on your parted lips, his face slowly leaning in and coming dangerously close to your own. 

And just as he was with you, your eyes found his lips, plush and wet from his tongue gliding over them. So kissable. All you wanted, all you needed, was to feel them collide with yours. To taste him again, to savor the sweetness that you knew to be Jake. 

He was so close that you could smell the bitter remnants of alcohol on his breath. His breath, that felt so warm against your flushed skin. You couldn’t help it as you slowly let yourself lean into him. All too well, you knew how wrong it was. . . Yet, you were having the worst time finding it within yourself to care any longer. 

Amber-brown eyes flicked up to yours, golden flecks glowing from the dim yellow lamp lighting. Your own eyes were wide under your fluttering lashes. 

The drunkenness wasn’t as prevalent in his stare as it had been before. This felt so eerily intimate — like it had happened before. You couldn’t fucking shake the feeling this moment was giving you. The dim lighting. Him so close to you—tempting you. . . 

For some reason, your eyes fluttered down between the two of you to your small, rounded tummy. 

Jake’s lips brushed your forehead with the action, his hand coming to tuck hair behind your ear. 

Your belly—it was nestled so well in the middle of your bodies, brushing up against his firm stomach. Protected.

And then a memory, clear now, came rushing back to you. It was coming out of the shadows, having been foggy and faded, but not anymore. 

The only place to go was your room, your door ajar just enough that it opened easily on its own. Jake had reached a hand behind him to close it gently– not wanting to wake anyone. 

Your lamp, still left on, just as it had been earlier in the evening, shed the perfect amount of golden glow. 

You’d grabbed his face, pulling him away from you momentarily to appreciate his features. Finally out of the dark you could look at him. 

And, God, you loved his face. Everything about it, having been so intricately and delicately created — making the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on.

A quiet smirk had graced Jake’s perfect lips, his eyes tightly locked with yours. 

“What’s the matter?” He’d asked, his hushed, now-sultry voice making your need for him that much more heightened. 

You thought a moment before you answered. 

With all of your feelings for him finally becoming realized in your own mind, there was just so much you felt you needed to say. So much you needed him to know. 

As you’d stared in his sparkling eyes, pupils pure black from the weed and his need for you, the only word your mind could conjure up was love. Over and over again. Not just the word, but the feeling; the new desire for him that went far beyond the purely physical one that you’d tried so hard to convince yourself of. 

But it wasn’t new; it had been clear all along. You’d just shoved it down to the deepest trenches of your mind, only to be discovered by the most skilled explorer. 

There was so much you had wanted to say, but you just couldn’t conjure the proper words. 

You decided your body could do all the talking. It could say more than your voice ever could.

“Nothing,” you’d whispered against his lips as you pulled him in for the deepest kiss you were certain the two of you had ever shared with one another.

You gasped as you looked up at him. The night you’d conceived—.

“Y/n, sweet girl,” Jake’s smoky voice brought your attention back to the situation. You let your body melt into his even more, needing him near. 

The reality of it all suddenly began to set in when his hands, slow and steady in their pace, moved up your waist. Strong hands now moving under your shirt, set in their direction of ascension. They came to a steady stop just beneath the curve of your tender breasts. 

“You know,” he breathed, breath washing over your lips. You blinked up at him, at his mercy. “I wanna do so much more than just hold your pretty tits,” he whispered, his lips brushing ever so lightly against yours. “How do they feel?”

“H-heavy,” you stuttered, shivering against his touch while his thumbs met at your sternum, tracing delicate patterns. 

His palms suddenly dropped from beneath your shirt. You sucked in a breath, whining as your breasts pushed out for more. Your skin begged for his touch, on fire for him. 

Before long, though, his hands came back to their spot over the fabric of the t-shirt this time. 

And, over your shirt, he cupped as much of your chest as he could, keeping you in his hold as he gently massaged. 

Stars. You saw so many stars. 

“But, not—not as sore tonight,” you sighed, settling into his grasp. There were no worries evident to you right now. 

All that mattered was Jake and his searing hot touch.

You felt him smile as close as he was, his lips almost connecting with yours as you fought back every desire to kiss him. “Yeah?”  He whispered again, raspier, while his thumbs lightly grazed your hardened nipples through your shirt, your breath catching in your throat. “What do you need right now, baby?”

The moan that escaped your lips should have been embarrassing. But it wasn’t. Not at all. It fit quite well with the way his fingers continued in their path over your nipples, circling them. He was stealing every bit of air left in your lungs, making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Tell me, baby,” he growled, lips touching yours with each word. 

Closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip, you answered silently. You, Jake. I fucking need you. 

He returned to his grip underneath your breasts, over the shirt still, cradling them so well. . . Your body just fit with his. The touch of his hands cured even the most uncomfortable changes in your body. 

You whined, not able to help the effect he was having on you and your aching body. “Jake, I need–.” Fuck. 

No. This was wrong. He was drunk. Odds were, he wouldn’t remember this. You were the one letting it happen, letting it get much further than it should have. 

“Tell me, y/n,” he repeated, brushing his thumbs once again over your taut nipples with more intent this time as your body began to tremble. “Tell me what I can do for you–.”

“I’m hungry,” you muttered out of nowhere, shaking your head as you effectively interrupted him. You pulled away, getting yourself out of another situation that could turn sticky real fast. (Yes, pun intended.) 

And you really were very hungry. Hadn’t eaten for hours. So, it was the perfect mood killer. 

“O-oh, yeah,” he breathily spoke, eyebrows dipping in just a bit as he dropped his stare. His long hair waved out around his shoulders when he shook his head. The sound of inebriated haziness was evident in his tone still, but you could tell he was quickly coming back to himself. 

And that also terrified you. The moment just now. . . Had that brought him back? You’d seen his eyes brighten when you’d leaned into him. 

He went to move past you, his body nearly meeting yours. You put out a hand, millimeters away from his heaving chest. But you couldn’t touch him yet. Not yet. Had to clear your mind. 

“Want me to make something for you?” He wondered, sounding ready to help even amidst his tipsy state. 

“I can do it,” you assured him with a small sigh and grin. “I’m capable.”

“You sure?”

“More than.” 

Your eyes held one another’s for a heavy minute. He was trying to make sure you were being honest, you could tell. 

You just encouraged him to believe your statement with a little pat to his warm, bare chest. Shit. 

You had to go. Get out of the room. Make some damn food. 

But he was right there. . . 

No. 

You quickly took your hand away before he could do something like hold it there. He didn’t get the chance, thanks to your reflexes. 

Your hands interlocked under your belly as you peeked up at him through your lashes. “I promise. I do things for myself all the time. Please let me.”

“You don’t have to ask for–,” hiccup, the sobriety still not fully present. He held a fist over his mouth, trying to be polite. Your smile met your eyes, so gone for him. . . “For my permission, y/n. Seriously. I just want to help you however I–,” hiccup, his eyes bugged a little. The giggle that came from you couldn’t be stopped. “ I can. Jesus.”

“Go to sleep,” you tried, wracking your brain for the best possible plan for him to feel better. “I’ll be okay.”

“Nah. Not yet. Wanna take a shower first,” he iterated, eyebrows drawn together with the sureness of his plan. “It’ll help.”

“Okay,” you smiled, inhaling a breath before shaking your head and moving to open his door. 

Rather than letting you get it, he raised his arm above your head, holding the door to do the job himself. You watched as he opened it wider, seeing his bicep flex with the action above your head. He’d opened it just enough for you to exit. 

You connected eyes with his, looking at him over your shoulder. 

The grin that lifted your features occurred on its own. Everything he did was making you swoon. The fucker.  

He snickered a bit at you, his teeth coming to show past his pretty lips. Dimples fully present with his knowing smile. “Go eat,” he motioned with his other hand before stepping towards you, planning to exit behind you. “My baby momma needs sustenance.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

About forty-five minutes passed. 

You’d eaten an entire box of macaroni and cheese. The noodles and yellow-y, plastic cheese weren’t making you want to gag anymore. Thank god, because it really was quite delicious. 

Now, to wash your dishes and go to bed.

You’d just heard the shower shut off about ten minutes prior to the moment you heard footsteps approach in the doorway to the kitchen.

Jake. 

“Will you come sleep with me?”

You spun to give him a questioning look from over your shoulder that held a million questions.

“Wh-what?” You stilled your task of washing the bowl you’d had your quick meal of macaroni and cheese in.

But, now, you weren’t thinking of mac and cheese. No, now you were thinking of what he just said.

When you’d looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes stuck naturally on the man standing at the doorway of the kitchen. The gesture that was meant to be quick, definitely turning into a whole-ass Jake Appreciation Fest.  

Just like earlier that evening, there he was. Shocking every nerve in your system. 

Pajama pants, slung low on his hips. . . his handsomely tanned and toned chest, still bare. His wet hair, laying on his pecs, dripping water onto each muscle. The drops of water made their way down his hard nipples, probably chilly from his shower, down his sculpted obliques and solid abdomen. . .

. . . And down, past the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. Your favorite ones. 

The pursuit you took with your line of sight was unstoppable. You had to know if he was wearing them. . . And, to your complete gladness, you saw just enough of an outline of him as he leaned his weight on one foot. . . That was all it took to know. . .

“No, I’m not wearing underwear,” he smugly remarked. 

His tone and words made your heart flutter and your cheeks become the deepest shade of crimson. Fuck. He’d caught you.

Deciding to ignore his little remark, you went back to washing the dish, still being held over the sink. In a much looser grip thanks to his comment. Gripping the dish tighter, you put all of your spinning nerves into washing it properly. You fumbled a little, but hoped he didn’t notice. 

“What did you mean before? About sleeping together?” You tried, working to maintain enough attention on the dish that you wouldn’t drop it against the sink and break the thin Corelle. 

“Just sleep,” he emphasized with a chuckle, sounding more and more like himself the longer he stood there. “Nothing more. Cross my heart.”

“Oh,” you offered lamely, heart thumping a hundred miles an hour in your chest, boobs suddenly aching for. . . Fuck. 

Why was he asking you to simply sleep with him? What the hell? 

God. . .

Should you? Was it a good idea? Well, no. You could answer that. It wasn’t a good idea. At all. 

But. . . should you go lay with him? Maybe fall asleep in his arms. . . Would it help you sleep easier after your short, uneasy rest from earlier in the evening?

Shit.

You knew the answer. Knew the answer very well. Even before EMDR, when the bad dreams would occur, they were always better – tamed, happy, or gone completely – when you slept in the same bed as Jake. 

“Yeah,” you said, not taking any more time to contemplate. “I will.”

“Alright,” he replied, sounding relieved behind you. Why did he sound so happy? Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. He still had alcohol in his system. That explained it. 

 You rinsed the rest of the bubbles from the bowl when you heard him speak up again. 

“Want me to wash it?”

“N-no,” you stuttered nervously and shook your head, focusing on the sudsy dish. “I’ve got it.”

“Okay. You full? Get enough to eat?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he answered, the smile evident in his tone. “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t,” you reassured, willing your pulse to return to normal. 

And, seconds later, you were hearing his footfalls against the carpet as he made his way back to his room. 

Well. 

Finishing the job of the bowl, – taking much longer than needed – you contemplated. 

You guessed his tone was still a little wavy, but you knew better than to think he was still drunk. 

He definitely wasn’t.

Had the shower helped that much? Had it been the moment in his room? Both combined? 

After the equally clean saucepan was put away in the drawer below the oven, you dragged your feet a bit more as you went to check on Stevie and put some more food in her dish. When her tail swished across your calves, you felt a bit of calmness return to you. 

Your heart was still thrumming in your chest. But you were able to slow your thoughts down enough to feel more at peace as you took notice of yourself in your full-body mirror.

Damn. . .oooo-kay, y/n. . . 

Why did you suddenly feel completely confident in your body? You turned, getting every angle. 

It just felt so great to not doubt your appearance. It was just like last Monday. You could get used to this feeling. 

Your boobs looked fantastic and big under your gray t-shirt, nipples peaked as they most-often were these days. Your ass looked perfectly rounded out from the way it peeked out of your soft shirt. . . And, lifting your t-shirt, you looked at the little bump of your tummy. 

The best addition to the entire look. Your grin was natural as you admired your baby. . .

Your tummy was growing steadily as you still sat on the bigger side of pregnant bellies. Your bump wasn’t a little subtle thing. No, it was an obviously pregnant belly. 

Small, but definitely still noticeable. And it was just cute as hell. 

After rubbing a gentle hand over the expanse of skin on your belly, you pulled your shirt back down over it. 

And with a final fluff of your hair, you grabbed your Stanley from the nightstand before making your way to where you’d find sleep tonight. 

You were just going to get good rest for your baby. It was for the baby. 

That was what you worked to convince yourself of as you walked with quiet purpose to his bedroom. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Why did you come home?”

You were laying in his bed. Just like old times. 

Except, in the past, where you would’ve most likely been naked, you were not tonight. 

Everything else though? Same as always.

Your legs were tied into his, looped around his just right, playing footsie with him beneath the covers. Your head rested on his bare chest, your hand underneath your cheek as it laid so perfectly well on his exquisitely strapped pecs.

Oh, also. . . One more thing different than before: the bump. The baby, tucked snugly against his side where you were turned into him. 

It was heaven. That was what it was. 

A yawn emitted from deep in his chest. You knew sleep was finding him faster than you would’ve liked. Naturally, a little yawn found you as well.

Sighing heavily to follow the yawn, you felt his hand that laid above you come to comb through the strands of your hair.  “I don’t like being away from you.”

Your heartbeat was heavy in your ears – did your best to ignore it.

“Was Maya mad?”

“Yeah.”

“Jake,” you scolded, for no reason. You didn’t give two shits about how she felt. But. . . you did care about his happiness – didn’t want to ruin his relationship when it made him feel happy and whole.

“She’ll get over it,” he reassured with another yawn that lifted your cheek with his rising chest. “She was drunker than I was.”

“Are you still drunk?” You pondered aloud with a yawn and a giggle, naturally emitting in his presence. 

But. . . you knew better. Didn’t even have to ask. It just made all of this more understandable if he were to still be drunk. It made this easier to submit to. 

You didn’t know why the prospect of simply laying beside him was harder to come to terms with than having his dick in your mouth. Just like it’d been a week ago. 

Your cheeks heated at the thought. Of its own volition, your thigh came to momentarily graze past his crotch.

“Not really,” he answered, sounding a touch offended that you’d even asked. “Pretty sober now, honestly.”

The more coherent he sounded, the more intimidated you became. . . 

Best to let him find sleep. You’d answer to this in the morning. . . For now, your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the moment. 

“I believe you,” you settled with a contented yawn of your own, nestling into his chest. Couldn’t help it. Had to be closer.

You blinked, slower and slower. So sleepy — just felt so right in his arms. His hand came to hold the base of your skull as a thumb traced your head so lightly. 

Goosebumps rose on your skin from his precious gesture. . . It felt so damn incredible. 

“You should,” he iterated, his lips coming to meet the crown of your head, giving you a feather-light kiss. 

And, within a minute, he was lightly snoring. 

It took almost no time at all for you to follow him to slumber. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Just like you would’ve guessed, the bad dreams didn’t come that night. 

. . .Because Jake made everything better. That was just it. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

December 16, 2022 

As you sat in the waiting room, you surveyed him and noticed he wasn’t wearing the Medusa medallion. The newer one you’d noticed on Monday. 

“No Medusa?” You questioned, at a decent enough volume to not disturb the few other mothers and fathers in the waiting room. He flicked his amber-brown gaze over to you, caught in a trance by the beautiful, light decor of the clinic. 

Once he looked at you, his eyebrows only dipped at your words, not understanding. You motioned to his neck with a slight flick of your wrist. “Your Medusa medallion. I noticed it the other night.”

He snorted, lips quirking in a small grin with a shake of his head. “That was a stupid gift I got from Maya’s little sister,” he explained, scratching the back of his head. 

“Jake,” you disciplined his words, but you couldn’t help the tiny giggle that slipped past your lips. It was kind of funny that he found it stupid. 

“What?!” He turned to you, a full smile on his face. You raised a faux disappointed brow at him and he contended that with his next remark, “Okay, yes, I know I shouldn’t call it stupid. Maya said it’s because of her sister’s little crush on me. . . But it was kind of funny that she showed up with it at her birthday party, for one,” he explained, crossing his legs at the knee. “And for two, Medusa? A Greek goddess? Since when is that my primary interest?”

You shrugged at that, a small smile stuck to your features. He was adorable.

He continued on, “For some reason, Maya struggles to differentiate between pirates and mythology. . . and no matter how many times I explain they’re different, she doesn’t catch on to it.” 

He shook his head, tousling a hand through his long, wavy hair as he placed the other hand on his knee. His rings weren’t present today, so you got to truly appreciate the curvatures of his tanned, masculine hands. 

“You should still acknowledge that Maya’s sister’s–what’s her name?”

“Kaia. K-a-i-a. . . Different from Maya’s by two letters. Sound the same, though,” he snickered.

Kaia and Maya. . . so they’re a rhyming name family. For some reason, the thought made you snort a laugh, a grin claiming your lips. 

“I know,” Jake said, a little humorous in his own tone. “Kaia and Maya. Can we agree to not name our kids rhyming names?”

Our kids? As in, more than the one in your belly?

You took note of him and his reaction to his mistake, watched the way his eyes continued scanning the walls of the white and blush waiting room. 

He seemed to not notice his mess up, still going about his business as usual. His foot tapped against the bamboo flooring to the beat of the classic rock radio station playing. 

You decided to ignore his words. It had been a slip up. Just like your own slip up in the car the other day. 

You, speaking of love. 

Jake, mentioning multiple kids. 

You both were just in a state of stress with the life change. . . it wasn’t anything. Just a couple mis-worded moments.

You continued on, looking down at your belly briefly, smoothing your hands down your sweater to flatten any weird lines. “. . .Kaia’s sentiment was kind. Her little crush is sweet,” you iterated, sounding more like a mom everyday. “I hope you told her thank you.”

He chuckled, raspy and light, at you. Switching your line of sight up to him, you saw his eyes read a sense of fondness as he cast his gaze on you. 

“I did,” he smirked, winking at you. Your tummy fluttered with butterflies. “You are going to be a fantastic mom, y/n. I’ve known it for a long time and I know it more and more with your little coaching moments.”

Your heart went crazy at the thought of him imagining you as a fantastic mother. And he’d known it for a long time? How long? What did that mean? 

“Thanks, Jake,” you blushed a light pink, matching the colors of the crepe walls. There was one more thing you wanted to say though. 

“However,” you cleared your throat, glancing at him momentarily from the corner of your eye. He was heeding you, brow arched as he waited for your next words. 

“I can’t say anything to excuse Maya’s non-acknowledgment at the obvious contrasts of pirates and mythology. They are two completely different beasts,” you emphasized, turning your full attention to him. He was still watching you. The flush was back in your cheeks. “I’ve seen enough of your documentaries about pirates and I’m an English major, for God’s sake. . . so I know these things.”

The way his features brightened was precious – like he was being seen. 

And he was seen. He would always be seen if you had anything to say about it. 

Also, you did know the difference, you weren’t lying. None of what you said was a lie. You’d said what you did because you needed him to know that you understood. His interests mattered to you and they should to Maya as well. They should matter to her more-so. 

The moment was cut off quite quickly, though, as you were hearing your name being called to the back for your appointment. 

You were about to see your baby again. With Jake. And you’d know by the end of the hour if it was a boy or girl. . . 

The blood was pumping in your ears as Jake fell in step beside you on the way to the back. You smiled up at him, where you were met with his sparkling eyes. Both of you were obviously giddy with eagerness and excitement. 

Your thoughts were filled with everything that was to come. All sunshine and pale colors – so much love.

Here we go. . .

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: ...i wonder if you can guess the name/gender after this chapter part... ;) see you soon (next part is almost finished, my loves) :) feel free to always come to my ask box or message box! i'm always down to talk when my adhd/anxiety doesn't attack me <3

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#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake fic #my fics #covet #chapter 11 might be a top three fav chapter for me... #part 3 is when some shit goes downnn #ruh roh #hehe

[thewertsearch]

AG: I used to really like him and always wanted to help him get stronger, so that he might stand a fucking chance to actually make it on our world.

It's honestly tragic. You probably did like him initially - but, as a consequence of your worldview, your genuine attempts to make him stronger were warped into abuse. He was never going to internalize your lessons, because the manner in which you were delivering then were far too cruel to be effective.

AG: 8ut he was just soooooooo weak and indecisive. He wouldn't change!

Due to her cruelty, Vriska completely failed to impart the lessons that she was trying to - and, of course, she blames Tavros, for refusing to be bullied into changing.

The more he 'failed' her tests, the angrier she got. The angrier she got, the more deliberate her abuse became.

Until the cruelty was the point.

AG: And when he tried to change, it was too little and too l8. Always l8. L8ey L8ey L88888888. AG: Too l8 to kiss me. AG: Too l8 to kill me. AG: He couldn't do it when I really needed him to. So when I saw he was actually serious a8out trying to kill me now of all times… AG: I just got SO AAAAAAAANGRY.

Anyone with a brain could tell you Tavros isn't a killer. He's a gentle troll, and cold-blooded murder would traumatize him.

So Vriska trapped him in a situation where not murdering her would also traumatize him, and got angry when he chose the wrong trauma. This scenario was unwinnable by design, just like their last FLARP game.

Don’t kid yourself, Vriska. You were screwing Tavros around until the end.

AG: I know our races are completely different. And I really h8 the idea of you thinking worse of me 8ecause of this. AG: 8ut I don't have anyone else to talk to a8out it!

Holy hell, Vriska’s really going through it.

The worst part is, John is the only confidant she has. She's incredibly lucky he's as easygoing as he is.

EB: i bet karkat would listen. EB: or what about terezi? she's pretty nice, isn't she? […] AG: For one thing, they would pro8a8ly just 8e pissed off at me for killing Tavros. AG: And more importantly, there's no waaaaaaaay I could tell them how I really feel a8out it.

I think I'm starting to understand why Vriska's begun to change.

So far, Vriska's life has been very simple. She killed because she had to, and she's convinced herself that it's the only correct way to live. A brutal life makes you strong, after all, and a peaceful life is a burden.

Alternian culture validates this worldview, as every troll is expected to take part in the Empire's conquests. Her nation wouldn't want her to stop killing - it'd just want her to switch targets. According to the world around her, Vriska's way of life is correct. She's never been meaningfully challenged on her beliefs.

Until today.

Today, Vriska has been confronted by a species who don't want to kill. A species seemingly populated by wimps like Tavros, who all watch ridiculous movies and believe in lame nonsense like friendship.

A species of weaklings, who weren't blessed with an upbringing as violent as hers.

And a species that succeeds anyway.

I think humanity, and John in particular, have called into question some of the most fundamental truths of Vriska's existence.

And something inside her has just said ‘w8 a second........’

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #3467 #s126

[realjungkook]

Too Busy Being Yours

Keigo Tamaki (Hawks)/Reader

Note: first smut (except that one omegaverse i did with my friend on Ao3, but please bear with me, this is probably bad.) Anyway!

Warnings: 18+ (pretty vanilla), Not proofread

Summary: You don't like Hawks, until a late night of unexpected, Passionate events take place.

Word count: 1857

Enjoy!

Your heels click on the floor as you try to follow Hawks’ quick steps. His long legs makes it difficult to follow him while wearing stilettos. The pile of papers are tightly pressed against your chest, as you desperately try not to drop them. You’re barely looking where you’re going, and almost hit two people. Hawks is pulling you along by your arm, and he’s the only reason you haven’t hit anything yet. 

“Can you slow down?” You hiss between your teeth. He turns his head, a cocky smile perched on his lips. 

“Can’t keep up?”

You roll your eyes. Hawks was always teasing you in the worst situations possible, when you were least in the mood for it. 

“I told you we had to leave earlier.”

“Whatever you say.” He turns back. You’ll be there soon. 

Hawks always had a tack for being late. Being his assistant was by far the most stressful job you’ve ever had. And his constant jokes and cheerfulness were draining sometimes. Even if it was uplifting when you’d had a bad morning. 

You finally get to the interview, in a small apartment on a street corner. You stop to catch your breath, sweat immediately collecting on your brow. Of course, Hawks was irritatingly unaffected. 

“See ya later, darling,” he winks, and you shake your head, ignoring him. You were stressed. This interview gave you a bit of time to focus on all the paperwork you were behind on. 

You of course, don’t see Hawks’ smile quickly fading when he realises you weren’t really affected by his teasing. Funny. He wasn’t used to that. 

Hawks rising in popularity meant more paperwork for you. And paperwork for a top 3 hero wasn’t something that could wait until morning. A headache had been forming behind your forehead for the past two hours and it was simply getting too hard to ignore. You sigh, pushing out your chair, getting up to get yourself another cup of coffee. Was this your fifth today? Your seventh? It doesn’t matter, anyway. The only thing filling your brain is heroes, interviewers and media. The tiredness wasn’t allowed to nudge its way in. You couldn’t afford that. 

You’re so lost in thought, you don’t feel the presence sneaking up on you. Only when two warm hands grab your shoulders and you shriek, heart jumping in your throat. 

“What are you doing here so late?” And oh, it’s just Hawks. You groan, pushing his hand away. 

“Fuck off.” 

You turn to walk away again, suddenly forgetting what it was you came for. But Hawks isn’t giving up so easily. 

“Aww, come on, humour me.”

You’ve had enough. 

You turn around, grabbing his collar in anger. Of course, he doesn’t budge an inch. But it certainly feels good, and you’re tired and irritated, frustrated and angry. And you just… explode. 

“Don’t test me! This has been too long of a day… a week… a month… a year for that matter. You’ve tested my limits every day, for however long I have worked for you, I’m so fucking sick of being your plaything. You don’t respect me, you don’t respect my work-”

“Y/n.”

“You don’t seem to care for how I’m doing, just constantly putting more pressure on me. You never take a moment to stop and think. Maybe you’re not the fucking only person in the world.”

“Y/n.”

“Maybe, for just a second, could you care about someone that isn't you. And maybe, just maybe, would you think it isn’t my job to take care of you when you’re alone or sad, I’m your assistant for god's sake, you big!… fucking!… man baby!”

“Y/n! Oh my god, listen!”

You push him back. “But you never listen to me!”

Hawks’ eyes are wild. He looks flabbergasted, as surprised as you’ve ever seen him. But his open mouth slowly forms into a smirk. Your stomach drops. Whether it’s in anticipation, fear, or maybe even excitement, you don’t know. 

“Oh but I do. About the things that are important.”

You tsk. “What things?”

He looks too smug, as he starts to speak. 

“I know that you deeply hate the guy from block 1.”

You stare at him with wide eyes. 

“I do not-”

He laughs. “Don’t play smart. You frown everytime he opens his mouth during meetings, and always object when he has an idea. It’s obvious.”

Obvious, yet only you’ve noticed. 

It’s your turn to look flabbergasted now. 

“Okay, so maybe he’s not my favourite person in the world, you’re right about that.”

Hawks smiles. 

“And you never wear your hair up. I take it you don’t like the sensation.”

It had never really caught your attention, just how much notice Hawks took of you, compared to how little you took of him. You’re borderline speechless. This always happens to everyone around you. His fans, coworkers, but never you. You 're never affected. The man takes notice, and he suddenly seems closer than before. 

“Cat got your tongue?”

If this were five minutes ago, you would’ve sighed and rolled your eyes. But now, you’re silent. 

“I just- I didn't know.”

His fingers find Your neck and goosebumps travel through your whole body. 

“Didn't know what? That I like you?”

Your immediate reaction is of course, denial. 

“That doesn't make any sense. Why would a pro hero be into someone like-”

But you don't get to finish, as he suddenly pulls you close. 

“I’m going to kiss you. That okay?”

 You’re so surprised that you just freeze, staring up into his big, owlish eyes. You can’t tell what kind of emotion hides behind them. 

“Okay,” you whisper, feeling the desire pull in your chest, more intense than you’d ever experienced. Before you get to take another breath, Hawks lips are on yours, soft and wanting, like this is the last time he’s going to kiss you. You really hope that’s not the case. 

Breathing is the last thing on your mind as your mouths passionately move together. You’re clutching his shirt hard, and you can feel his erection growing against you. 

“I wanna eat you out,” he says, biting your earlobe. The surprisement from all of this has still not entirely passed, but you’ve decided to just go with it. 

“Please,” you moan, and it comes out a lot more desperately than you’d anticipated. You clumsy move towards your desk, his lips sucking eagerly on your neck as you both try to unzip your skirt. He hits a spot on the end of your neck that feels incredibly ticklish and good, and you moan a bit too eagerly as he desperately pushes all of the papers off of your desk in one swipe. 

You feel a stab of irritation in your chest, and is about to give him a piece of your mind, before he pushes you down with practised ease. His incredible strength really comes to sight in a situation like this. It turns you on a lot more than you’d thought it would. you seem to get surprised a lot today.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

You’re pretty sure he’d be able to spread them just fine himself, but you still listen, flinching a bit when the cold air hits your aching cunt. You’re so wet already that it’s almost embarrassing. 

He grips your thighs securely, kissing up your inner thighs. You’re so wet that you can feel the slick dripping down to your asshole. 

As soon as he gets started, Hawks is unstoppable. He eats you out like he’s starving. You’re too gone to be embarrassed about the wet squelching sounds, as he eagerly sucks your clit with the confidence of an experienced man. Your legs are shaking, and you’re sure that there will be marks tomorrow from where his fingers grip your thighs tightly. 

“Don’t, ngh- don’t stop!” you loudly breathe out, voice trembling as you, to your utmost surprise, suddenly cum. Everything feels overwhelming as he stops, lifting his head, his whole underface covered in your wetness. 

“You’re acting like I would ever,” he says, a bit out of breath. You can’t deny your attraction to him anymore, especially in a moment like this. “You taste too sweet,” his voice drops an octave as he leans closer to your face, breathing against your lips. “You can’t imagine how long I've wanted to do this. I could go on all night, until you’re completely dry. And then in the morning, I want to fuck you until my body gives out.”

That would take a while, especially with the incredible stamina he has, you think, feeling as if you’re in some kind of pleasant haze. 

“You don’t know how feral I am for you, y/n. It’s scaring even myself.”

You stare up at him in surprise, suddenly unsure of what to do. But you don’t need to be sure about anything, as Hawks leads you through it. 

He pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you, as you wonder how you’re even able to take this. On an uncomfortable desk at that. But true to his word, you’re riding him like you’ve never ridden anyone ever before in his apartment a few hours later as the earliest sunlight start to stream through the curtains. 

Hawks face is pulled back in pleasure as he slides his hands up your hips, shamelessly studying your bouncing breasts. 

“You’re so good for me,” he grumbles, and you let out a pleased whine at the praise. The sheets under you are soaked, but with the way Hawks is praising and caressing you, you feel like you could go on forever. 

His mouth drops open, and you can tell that he’s about to cum. You increase your pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin getting impossibly louder. You just hope the neighbours won’t complain tomorrow. 

It’s incredibly thrilling, having the famous pro hero in the palm of your hand like this.

“I’m going to cum,” He warns, and not even a second later, warmth suddenly fills your belly as his white seeds coat your walls. You cum yourself only seconds later, resisting the urge not to scream as you feel his cum dribble down onto the sheets, your body spasming with the shocks. You hold back a wince at the distant thought that you’d maybe scratched his back a bit too hard. You’ll have to remember to ask him later if he’s okay. But for now, you can barely keep your eyes open. 

“Can we stay like this for a little while?” He asks, and you nod faintly, resting your head on his shoulder. Not a single thought passes behind your eyes, only the warmth of your bodies sticking together and Hawks, Hawks, Hawks. 

You didn’t care about the mess. Right now, you only cared about him. And that was enough.

#my hero academia #hawks x reader #smut #hawks smut #female reader #f reader #keigo takami #mha takami keigo #bnha keigo #keigo x reader #keigo tamaki #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #keigo smut #keigo x you #keigo x y/n #mha hawks #hawks mha #bnha hawks #hawks #takami keigo

[we-out-here-simping]

Ch 2: The teenage hobby of making out.

(s.h. x gn!reader)

from the river to the sea. (get in your daily clicks, read about it, donate if you can.)

Summary: Hopper’s getting mad that his kids are kissing boys.

Word count: 7.7k

Warnings: use of (y/n); no pronouns used (gn!reader); Suggestive (sexy ice cream consumption); steamy but no smut; boner alert; hopper being a cockblock; arguing; reader is jealous of Eleven; hopper makes a 'your wife' joke (its canon); daddy issues?

A/n: this is the closest i think ive gotten to writing smut so far lol i struggled so much

Anyway ive been having the big bad no good awful time lately and feel like doing literally nothing but i really pushed myself to finish this guy so have this and also I think it's high time we get readyyy for desi!reader!!!! She will be arriving soon hopefully!!!

masterlist

...

‘You don’t tug on superman’s cape, you don’t spit into the wind.’

Hopper’s record player blares. Your eyes fling open at the intruding loud tone of at this point what you know to be Jim’s favourite song.

‘You don’t pull the mask off an old lone ranger and you don’t mess around with Jim.’ The faceless crowd chants through the speakers. Quite swell headed of himself when you really think about it. 

Your face scrunches, a yawn leaves you when you stretch under the quilt. The sheets beside you ruffle, and when you turn it is your sister, rousing from her sleep as well, Mr. Arnold, the teddy bear, in her arms. She lets out a frustrated groan at the loud song, before pulling her blanket over her head. 

You snort at that because you’re sure it's impossible to fall asleep with that playing right outside the room. This is not the first time that Jim has used this really effective strategy to annoy you and your sister out of your slumber.

You lay there for a second before finally getting up to get started with the morning, knowing full well Hopper won’t be quietening it down unless both of you were out of bed and having breakfast. It also isn't like you had neighbours to complain about the noise.

By the time you come out of the bathroom, Eleven is once again stirring awake. She stretches both her arms above her head again and lets out a deep sigh.

"Morning, El.”

She mumbles something that sounds like ‘morning’, her tone a lot less peppy than yours. she once again decides she wants to be back asleep, rolling over and burying herself in the sheets again. “I think… I hate that song now”, you hear her grumble under the mass of the comforter.

“Yeah, that happens when you are forced to listen to something a billion times. What's weird is he does have other records but he really loves the song with his name in it”, you laugh both at your sister’s and Hopper’s antics.

You sit back on the bed with an ‘oof’, looking at where she lies beside you. “Okay, kid, let's get outta bed”, you say knowing full well that the noise isn't going to stop unless you both step out of the room. “c’mon El”, you sigh, shaking her a little by her shoulders. "Don't you have to go meet Dustin today?"

El’s eyes shoot open, she looks up at you with wide eyes as if she'd forgotten about her plans. She throws the blanket and the soft toy off of her and jogs away to her room.

You chuckle to yourself at her excitement, reaching under the quilt to look for Mr. Arnold. You pull him out, brushing the messy fur around his beady eyes before putting him neatly with the rest of the pillows and get out of the room yourself.

You head out into the kitchen, the smell of roasted coffee hitting you immediately. Jim has always been notorious for having his coffee extra strong, no cream, no sugar. you remember trying it once and pledged to never do that again, not being accustomed to that taste. 

There's a box of cereal on the kitchen counter, you fix yourself a bowl and put some in another bowl for Eleven. You then head to the couch where Hopper is reading a newspaper and sipping the bitter and brown beverage, "morning" you say quietly— shouting was not needed since he had turned the player off when he noticed both you and Eleven were awake. 

"Morning kid", he greeted from behind the newspaper, not really bothering to look up.

"You have to find a better way to wake us up."

He chuckles to himself, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it" he jostles the flimsy paper.

You roll your eyes which he doesn’t notice. That’s the usual with him. He doesn’t ever seem to notice you. And for the most part, you’re used to it. Somewhere between adopting you and now, things changed. Not to be mistaken, he is the closest thing you have to a father and you know he does love you but some part of this relationship feels… hollow now. Like you’re not getting enough, he’s not willing to give you enough. 

In silence, you swirl your spoon around in the floating cereal while Hopper takes a big sip of his coffee. You think to finally tell him about Steve.

Just when you were contemplating when to speak up about it, Eleven comes out of her room, still wearing the same clothes, "Morning Hop", she greets brightly.

He looks up, "Morning kiddo", he smiles before his gaze moves back to his newspaper.

“There's a bowl for you on the kitchen counter”, you let the girl know. She smiles and pours herself some milk into it.

"Hey, Hop?", The super powered girl calls out. He hums through a mouthful of soggy cereal as he looks up from the newspaper. "Can you take me to Will's?” she says while walking over to the couch where he was sitting, "Dustin is coming back today. We're surprising him"

"Oh, okay kid. We'll just leave in a bit", he sets down the papers and downs all of the cereal. He goes into his room. By the time you and Eleven are done with your breakfast, Hopper comes out, clad in his uniform. 

"Hey y/n any groceries you want me to get? Going to the Market today", he asked while putting his shoes on.

"Yeah, it's on the fridge"

The man went over to the fridge door and took the list off of it. He took a second to read the contents of the list before muttering out the last one, "icecream, again?"

"I like ice cream. We ran out", you shrugged.

"I bought a tub this sunday."

“I really like ice cream”

“seriously? this is getting more ridiculous than El’s eggo obsession–”

“hey!” she interjects. 

“and weren’t you expanding your horizons? How’d that combo work out last night?” He looks between you and Eleven.

"It was…", she pauses, looking for a suitable word, "disgusting.” she says with the straightest face before going to her room to get changed and to put on her shoes, you assume.

“I… can't say that I disagree”

“Look kid, I'm not getting you ice cream so often, okay? Anything else?"

“...Nope that's… that’s it. Just the list.”

“‘Kay,” he shoves the paper in the pocket of his shirt. He glances over at the room that Eleven is in before clearing his throat. “Hey, do you uh…”, he looks back you, voice softer than it was just a second ago, “wanna talk about it?”

“About..?” 

“That nightmare I’m assuming you had last night.”

“... there's– there isn't anything to talk about”

“Yes there is”, he barely gets the words out of his mouth when you sigh, frustrated before getting off the couch and moving towards the kitchen. 

“C’mon kid,”, he follows behind you, “you haven't been telling me anything recently, and Owens told me–”, you groan at the name, “don't interrupt me– Owens told me that you refuse to share anything with him either.”

“I don't tell anything because there is nothing to tell. And honestly,” you put your bowl in the sink, “I don't want to talk about stupid feelings with a stupid old man”

“You think I haven't been hearing you scuttering ‘round in your room trying to fall asleep? So don't bullshit me but there is a lot to tell. He recommended these weekly check ups because they will help. I mean– look at El, she barely struggles with the night terrors or–”

“You just have to compare me to her, don’t you?”

“Owens will call saturday and you better tell him everything”, he commands with his nostrils flared.

You roll your eyes away from him, crossing your arms.

“Do you hear me? Hey! look at me when I’m talking to you”, he uses that stern voice again, the one that means ‘you better listen or else’. You aren’t sure what the ‘or else’ ever is yet you always listen when he uses that voice. You look at him, reluctantly so, “Good. now… I'm getting late. Why don't you get rid of that attitude and stop being such a brat" he shoves his wallet in his back pocket, calling out Eleven's name and she comes out wearing a navy-blue t-shirt that seemed a little too big for her, and she casts you a concerned look.

You let out a frustrated huff as soon as the door shuts close behind them. You run your fingers over your face, your head hurting again after that argument.

You then head to put the rest of the bowls in the sink and the milk in the fridge, but that's when you notice it. The Eleven's drawing— of you, Hopper and herself— that was initially stuck to the fridge door with a magnet, was now on the floor— along with the other magnets. You tried to put them back on nevertheless they fell again. You were frustrated as it is, it only made you angrier when they didn't stick. In your rage you shove them in the nearest drawer, it closes with a loud thud.

You weren't sure how this entire thing had managed to get you so mad. You wanted to rip your hair out, break all the bowls, burn the stupid phone so Owens never calls, shatter hopper's favourite coffee mug, tear apart every drawing Eleven has made of you all together. But you don't. You just stand there, trying your best to keep it at bay– the anger, the tears, both. And god, you needed to catch your breath, you needed some water.

You grab a glass of water from the tap. As it fills, you latch open the window above the sink. The window and the glass of water had become a part of your routine to calm yourself down. A compulsion at this point because if you didn't do it, everything felt off.

You guzzle down the thing, the liquid cooling you. You force yourself to close your eyes, breathing in, holding it and then breathing out– just like Hopper had taught you. Although it brings down your anger, it doesn't exactly calm you down. You blame it on the lack of wind today.

You don't keep your eyes closed for too long though. You close the window and head to your room. You don't bother with anything else, planning on hiding under the sheets for the rest of the day. It is then that you hear a knock on your bedroom window.

You look up from the mess of wrinkled sheets and you are met with the beautiful smile of your boyfriend. He gives you a little wave with a bouquet of flowers and holds up a takeaway cup from scoops ahoy. A smile automatically forms itself on your face as you walk over to the window and open it so he could climb in.

He lets himself in in a rather not ninja way, your hands flying to steady him. you take in his clothes– his scoops ahoy outfit, the colours suit him, his favourite watch snug around his wrist, the shorts fitting him perfectly, his floppy hair resting softly against his forehead— he looks beautiful to say the least. 

"Morning your highness!", He spoke up with a rich English accent– gesturing wildly with the bouquet, "Flowers picked by yours truly! Ice cream scooped, once again, by your beloved", he handed you the flowers— which you held close to your chest while showcasing a huge grin. "And guess what? New flavour! You have to try it, babe."

You adjust the crooked name tag on his shirt, "I was just leaving for work but decided to take a little detour. Hope you don't mind me coming."

"Of course I don't— it's just, if you came like two minutes earlier, Hop would've caught you."

"Close call", he wipes the imaginary sweat off of his temple, making you giggle a little.

"You look very pretty," you say before you even realise.

"I'm supposed to be a manly man! you calling me pretty and beautiful isn't helping with that", he complains only half-heartedly because he loves hearing you call him those things. No one has ever complimented him in such a way, sure he has gotten compliments about his hair or his nether regions from girls but you telling him he's pretty and cute made butterflies flutter all over in a way he didn't think was possible.

"Well, that's too bad. You are pretty", he blushes all pink when you say it, "The prettiest ever", he smiled shyly as you came closer to him— faces merely inches apart.

"Not too shabby yourself babe", he pecked the tip of your nose and then you go to put the flowers in a vase next to your bed.

“How did last night go?” he asks, following behind you.

“Hmm?”

“You were... going to tell your dad about us?”

“Oh.”

He purses his lips, “I'm guessing you didn't”

“I wanted to, I swear but then Mike Wheeler happened."

“‘Course he did”

“And then I almost did this morning too but then Jim and I had a fight, like right now..”

“Fight, about what?”

You quickly shake your head, “.. doesn't matter. I’m sorry”

“Hey, its okay. How ‘bout this okay, you.. try again. okay? whenever feels right-- no rush" you nod slowly. the boy flashes you a grin before speaking up again, "now, gimme a little kiss"

"No."

"No? why no?" he pouts.

"’Cause I want to have ice cream first", you declare, booping his nose.

He lets out a playful scoff, “is that all I am to you? I stole this just for you yesterday and I don’t even get a kiss?" he is all theatrical as he holds is palm on his chest to show just how scandalized he feels.

“Stole it?”

“Nah", he clicks his tongue as a no, shaking his head, "we get free ice cream.”

Your brows fly up at the information, “Woah, really? hmm, I need to work there.”

“Will you? Please do. My coworker pretty much hates me–”

While he is rambling, you try to snatch the cup from his hand, but before you could do so he pulls his hand away. "Ah ah ah, you gotta give me the password first to get the ice cream babe"

"What?" you ask, brows knotted together.

"Not the password", He says in a monotonous voice.

"Steve c'mon–"

"Not the password."

"Just give it to me, Steve", you try reaching for it again– to no avail.

"Not the password."

"Stevieee", you're practically draped over him, yet he somehow manages to keep the cup right out of your reach.

"Not the password", he smirks, laughing a little.

You sigh, you had to play it his way to get what you want. You give a quick kiss on his cheek– more so a peck. "Hm, warmer...", he hums, "but still not the password."

You groan all frustrated, knowing full well what he wanted. and you had no other choice than to give in. You tilt your face so your lips meet his and when you pull back, awaiting his response. He finally says, "You got it", before lowering his hand.

Steve then goes into character– sitting you down on the edge of your bed, he takes out his hat from his pocket that said 'ahoy' on it and puts it on top of your head.

He greets you how he would welcome any other customer, you giggle at his theatrical antics. "Now, since you are one rather good looking sailor, I'll let you set sail on this ocean of flavor with me with this amazing scoop of our new invention!!'

The treat is a little melted— blame it on the summer heat. tasting phenomenal, surely to be your new favourite. As Steve watches you relish the delicious flavour, he notices that the runny liquidy ice cream has managed to drip around the corner of your mouth and lower lip.

"Oh babe, you've got a–" His thumb swipes over your lower lip— eye contact unbreaking— Smearing the liquid much more than actually wiping it. He does it unreasonably slow.

"There", he pulls his arm back, and without looking at the residual ice cream on his thumb he licks it– gaze still unwavering. "Delicious", he murmured. Heat creeps up your neck and spreads through your cheeks. You both knew what Steve was doing although you'd be lying if you said that it wasn't working.

Having expected for you to be absolutely flustered, Steve is surprised when instead your features morph into a mischievous smile, "right? You wanna try some?"

"Uh, sure", he hesitates.

You go to feed him the drippy ice cream with the spoon only to 'accidentally' smudge it at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, you've got a—"

"Oh, very funny babe—" Before Steve could finish, your lips were attached to the corner of his mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick at the liquid— the movements agonisingly slow. It is then that Steve forgets how to function. He doesn't reciprocate your kisses, being sure he'd forgotten how to kiss. This was the first time you'd initiated a kiss, or made a move on him and now he didn't know how to react. 

When you pull away, his eyes remain closed for a bit longer. But when they finally do flutter open, instead of the same mischievous sly smirk, he is met with your wide eyes. You blink as if unsure of what you had done, Steve sees you gulp before you get up and leave the room.

Steve was stuck, he realises. His mind has forgotten how to work for however long that lasted. Maybe it was minutes or maybe it was only just a few seconds– to him it felt like hours though. Blood rushed to his cheeks and other parts of his body.

He paid it no mind though and quickly got up to find you. His situation will go away, right now he needed to make sure that you were alright. He went out of the room and sees you by the kitchen— throwing away the empty cup— your back turned towards him.

You don't look up when he stands beside you, he calls out your name and you shyly turn to sneak a look at him, rubbing your own arm anxiously, “S– sorry that was weird right?”

“Uh– n– no! It wasn't", he assures, shaking his head, "It just… um, I wasn't expecting it. It was– It wasn't weird.” he waits, hoping you'd say something but when you don't, he speaks up, "That was like the– the hottest thing ever– what you did back there."

“It wasn't... too much? It felt like it was too much.”

“Too much? I have a boner right now, respectfully, of course.”

Your eyes widen, and just when they were about to trail down– “don't look down!” You hold your breath, trying your best to muster all your power to maintain eye contact with him, but your gaze betrays you for just a second as it snaps down to his groin before jumping back to his eyes. Your face becomes so warm, palms clammy.

“W-what do I do?”

“No–nothing? It’ll go away”, he barely manages to stammer out, turning his body towards the kitchen counter so you don't see it, eyes roaming everywhere but towards you. 

Steve in high school never would have faced such issues, king steve never would have been so clumsy and embarrassed in front of someone he liked. The old Steve wouldn't get this damn red and awkward. But he does, he isn't the old Steve afterall.

He feels your hand on his shoulder, urging him to look your way. When he does, his eyes meet your unsure gaze-- you were looking at his lips. He himself can't help but trace the contour of your face, from your eyes to your nose, to the swoop of your cupid's bow to finally your lips.

It is you who leans in. This kiss was different than any you have had before. It grows deeper. And suddenly, its all tongue and teeth. Steve has never kissed you like this before. Its hands over your body, fingers creeping under your t-shirt. And its unusual. A good unusual. One you could get used to.

“Steve?" you breathe out when you pull apart.

“Y– yeah?”

“I’m sure. What I said yesterday, I’m sure.”

“Wait– you’re not just saying that ‘cause I–’

“No. I– I mean it.” You let out a giggle. The giggle which he was sure could end and fix all his fears and nightmares. The giggle that made his heart flutter and stomach do summersaults. You were sure to be the death of him. 

His grip around your waist tightens as he rests his forehead against yours, warm noses touching. "When.. uh– when does Hopper come back?"

"5:30," you huffed out, once again leaning in and he once again pulled back to be just out of your reach.

"One last question, El isn't home, is she?"

"No, no. She– she's with– friends. Won't come back till four."

"Good, wouldn't want them to come in on this", he almost growls before latching your lips together. And then you're kissing him. It is messy, but he loves every single second of it. His hands go to hold your jaw and yours to his cheeks, pulling in closer– deepening the kiss. At this point you'd both forgotten to breathe, too intoxicated on each other. But soon, both your lungs start to burn off the lack of oxygen and you both pull apart.

Your breaths were jagged, foreheads still touching. You gasp into his mouth. Your lips move in tandem as Steve pushes you between himself and the counter. The edge of the counter digs into your thighs. His hands travel to right below your ass, ready to lift you up onto the counter. But before he could do so, you pull him by the collar of his sailor outfit towards your room— lips never stopping contact. Steve takes the hint and gently pushes you against the door of your room, fumbling for the door knob.

You grab a fistful of his hair, he lets out a moan into your mouth. He finally manages to open the door, and you immediately pull him in. Steve tries to steady you both while tightening his hold on your hips, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. 

You pull him towards the bed. He finally pulls away to take off his shirt only to latch his lips back to yours. He is hovering over you, lips never not touching, hands roaming each other's bodies. You slightly pull away, your digits fumbling for the cassette player's buttons next to your bed. The button clicks and Asia’s ‘heat of the moment’ starts playing. The both of you laugh because it was the mixtape that you and Steve had made a couple months ago.

…

Hopper had just reached the Byer's when he realises that he had forgotten his hat in the heat of the argument with you. He frowns upon the thought of the argument, he regrets shouting, he was worried about you and maybe he shouldn't have gotten that mad.

He waves over at Eleven, watching behind her to make sure she gets inside. He starts the engine and heads back to the cabin to retrieve his hat and perhaps make amends with you.

When he gets there, you don't open the door. You were possibly still mad at him, he thinks when he lets himself in, he could hear the song blaring from your room. He takes a peek in through the cracked open door.

Through the few inch wide door gap, he sees you and Steve Harrington. A shirtless Steve Harrington on top of you. The boy kissing you. And you kissing him back.

Through the kisses, his lips trail along your jaw and down your throat landing on your collarbone— pulling a moan out of you. "God, you're– fuck", Hopper barely hears the boy mumble. The man's nostrils flare as he sees his hands go back to the little sliver of skin exposed between your shirt and your shorts, fingers playing with the hem of the shirt.

"HEY!"

Steve immediately pulls away and yelps when you accidentally yank his hair. You both look up towards the source of the sound and there stood Jim Hopper, eyes wide with seething anger. 

“HOPPER?--”

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Hopper", You yelp out, speedily turning the player off while Steve fumbles to hide his integrity behind a pillow. Both Steve and Hopper were bright red. You were sure to go deaf to the loud beating of your heart.

"What in the fuck are you doing with my kid, Harrington?", You were sure Hopper's face would burst into flames any second now.

Steve eyes bounce frantically between you and hopper, he stammers, "I— Hopper—"

"That's fucking sir to you, Harrington."

"Sir, I—"

You hold your hands up, hoping to calm Hopper down after he found you in such a compromising position, "It's– its not what it looks like Hop—"

"So you're telling me that you two weren't about to–"

"Hop—", you try interrupting him but he interjects you by turning to Steve, pointing his finger at the poor boy while simultaneously squaring up on him. "I'm gonna have a serious fucking talk with your father, Harrington."

He walks backwards, incredibly intimidated, "But, sir—"

"Cover your goddamn tits and wait for me outside, Harrington." Steve gulps, silently nodding– knowing well enough that talking back was going to be fruitless so he leaves the room, the door shutting behind him.

You try speaking up again, "Hopper, listen–"

"No, you listen", he scolds with gritted teeth and flared nostrils, "You are fucking grounded. You can live your stupid paranoid fantasy and stay safe and stuck in this cabin”

“Hop–”

"And that means no tv–"

"Dad–"

"No radio or cassettes, no more phone, no more tv– ", he said as he unplugs the radio player and pulls out the cassette box from under your bed and throws the tapes around in anger "what else are you hiding from me, huh?”

"Nothing, hopper–"

He notices the box pushed further back under your bed and pulls it out— filled to the brim with Steve related stuff. your graduation caps, polaroids, mixtapes, books that had flowers pressed between their pages, beer bottle caps from when you had gotten drunk for the first time– all on the floor for display; the entire thing doing nothing to calm the raging man down. "Hopper, stop–"

"No more fucking dating", he picks up the mixtapes and books, throwing them with immense fury and rage. He pulls out polaroids of you and Steve and crumbles it up.

"NO!!--"

"And NO MORE FUCKING STEVE HARRINGTON", he smashed the now empty box against the floor, "D'YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?" he was shouting now, full on shouting— and it scared you. For the first time, Hopper scared you. The same guy who had saved you, protected you. The first person with whom you felt safe, ever. 

Tears spring up in the corner of your eyes. you duck your chin into your chest, squinting them shut.

“Asked you a fucking question.”

You try to even your breaths before answering, "No."

"What'd you say?", Words dripping in fury.

"I said, no."

"Why? You love that stupid idiot or something?"

The question scares you because you don't have an answer. You wrack your brain, looking for an answer but still…. your brain pulls up a slide that was nothing but a blank screen.

Do you love him?

You like him. You love being with him. He is your best friend, your only friend. But do you love him? how would you know? You do not know. 

“He’s my friend. He’s my only friend, Jim”

"Cut the bullshit, y/n", Hopper spoke as he noticed the tears springing up in your eyes and right now he was too damn angry to regret it.

Either of you don't hear the sound of the door shutting over your own heartbeat. you finally speak up, "You're bullshit."

"What?"

"You see El and Mike everyday, they're always kissing. But you see me with Steve one time–"

"The one time I see you two, you are fornicating— El and Mike don't do that."

"I'm a fucking adult, Hopper"

"You're a goddamn teenager is what you are!"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn't do this stuff when you were a teenager, Hopper. You’re being an asshole!”

“Maybe you shouldn't have hid things from me y/n and I'm not being an asshole, I'm giving you a reality check. and if you think you’re such an adult then stop fucking hiding in this cabin from the world and feeding you little paranoid fantasy”

Both your chests rise and fall, face warm with aggravation, “Oh, don't look at me like I’m some monster", Hopper shakes his head at you, exasperated. you don't say anything, instead you get up to leave the room, "… where do you think you are going?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Aww, where are you gonna go, to your boyfriend?”

"You know what? That's a great idea, Jim. I’ll go and never come back again, I'll live with Steve or I’ll live in that stupid trailer. I've done it before and I'll do it again", you say with absolute resentment, all gritted teeth and red eyes. "I’ll leave", you sniffled, "Cuz you sure as hell don't want me here."

"Sure, kid, go 'head", he said through flared nostrils and a mock smile.

You raise your volume too before, "You won't have to fucking pretend to care for me anymore, you can take care of El all you want now", you pause for a beat before murmuring, "Clearly you like her more."

"..What–"

"Don't play dumb", your voice shakes as you speak, "it took you years to even consider adopting me, but you took El in in a heartbeat. El’s the one you care about Hopper– just fucking admit it, she's the one that gets hugs, she's the one that gets all the love and affection, she’s always mattered more to you, she's the one who matters to you because she's the one who reminds you of your dead daughter"

You said that. You said that. And the truth was that you meant it. Sure, you regret it, knowing how much it affected Jim. But it seemed only fair in your rageful brain to do the same.

Hopper is frozen, he swallows a lump in his throat. He looks at you hunched over the mess he'd made, your eyes red, watery and enraged.

You see him take a deep breath; it almost seems like he was about to say something. Maybe he'll apologise, you think, maybe you will too. Instead, he turned, his body lingering for a second too long near the door, and you pray that he says something– anything so you could take it all back. He lets out the breath he had been holding and shut the door behind him. A few seconds later you hear the cabin's door slamming. He left. 

…

At the station, Jim was having his lunch– donuts, which Flo had bought for everyone in the light of her birthday. Powell and Callaghan were discussing something, Flo has given Jim some paperwork– he isn’t sure about what though. His mind was too busy playing your argument on repeat.  

El’s the one you care about, Hopper. 

She’s the one who matters to you.

Because she’s the one who reminds you of your dead daughter.

“Chief?” Jim realises that he had been staring at the files that Flo had given him. 

“You okay, boss?”

“Uh, yeah— I’m peachy Callaghan”, Hopper gets up from his chair picking up another donut, “exactly how your wife was last night.”

Powell and the rest of the workers let out a guffaw while Flo looks at Jim with disapproving eyes and Callaghan looks like a kicked dog. Jim picked up his keys, headed towards the exit.

“Where are you going Jim?”, Flo demands behind him.

“Gotta take care of something, Flo”, he picks up his hat and puts it atop his head, “Hold the fort down for me while I’m gone?”

“It’s not like I have a choice.”

“Thanks, Flo”, he muttered, flashing a fake grin. Hopper shoves the donut in his mouth and went out the door and into his car. He drives through the empty streets of the local market, one hand tight around the steering wheel and the other holding the crumpled up shopping list you’d made. Joyce would know how to deal with both your and El’s situation, he thinks to himself as he stopped in front of Melvald’s general store, she was actually good at the whole parenting thing, afterall. 

When Jim steps into the empty store, he is met with Joyce putting up a sale sign. “Hey”, her head turned at the sound of the bell ringing.

“Hey, You busy?”

“You’re our first customer, so..” There is a beat. Hopper’s fingers fumble with the edge of his hat. “What now?”

Hopper vents about everything that happened between you two to Joyce while picking up all the groceries you had written in the list. “And its not just y/n, El too— she and Mike are kissing, like constantly and the other day— she just…. slams the door, right in my face. and– and y/n just doesn't wanna tell me anything and every time I try to talk, it just turns into an argument. and this last one just really went to shit”, Joyce hums as she rings up all of Jim’s groceries.

“Y’know, those smug sons of bitches, Steve and Mike. They’re corrupting them, I’m telling you.”, he shakes his head, “This has never happened before. And I’m just gonna lose it. I mean, I’m gonna lose it, Joyce–”

“Just take it down, Hopper”, Joyce speaks with a calm tone as she packed up the groceries.

“I want– I need to get rid of them."

“'rid of them'? you sound like you're going to murder them. and didn’t you already tell Steve and y/n that they can’t see each other anymore?”

“But El—”

“Hopper, that is not your decision to make”

“You don’t get it Joyce, El and mike– it’s constant. It is constant. And y/n's been hiding this thing from me for months probably! Months!”, Joyce huffs at Hopper’s anger, “Okay? That is not good or normal, that isn’t healthy”

“What you did to y/n and Steve isn’t healthy either”, Joyce pushes Hopper’s grocery bag on the counter towards him, “Besides, you can’t just force them apart.” She leaves the checkout counter and moves to an aisle and starts putting sale tags on the items, still continuing the conversation. “I mean, y/n’s right— they’re not little kids anymore, Hop.” The woman explains with knitted brows while the man picks up a random thing from the aisle nearest to him and starts playing catch with himself like a bored toddler.

“They’re teenagers Hopper”, Joyce huffs, “If you order them around like a cop, then they’re going to rebel. It's just— what they do.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Let them do whatever they want?”, Jim tosses the box up again.

“No, I didn’t say that”, she sighs, snatching the box midair while shooting a chastising look towards the tall man, “I think you should talk to them.”

“No. no, ‘cause talking doesn’t work–”

“Not yelling. Not ordering”, she gestures with the tag gun, “But talk to them” The woman turns to put the box back where it belonged while muttering with a shrug, “y'know like a heart-to-heart.”

“A heart-to-heart?” Hopper questions, confused, “what’s that?”

“You sit them down, you talk to them. Like you’re their friend”, Joyce explains while the man leans against a wall rather dramatically as if he was five-year-old listening to a lecture about the theory of relativity, “if you talk to them like you’re on their level, then they really start to listen. And then– you know, you can start to create some boundaries”

“Boundaries”, Jim repeats.

“Yeah, but Hop— it's really important that no matter how they respond,” she pauses for emphasis, “You stay calm. You cannot lose your temper”

The uniform clad man rolls his eyes; however, he hid it quickly before Joyce could notice and taps his fingers awkwardly against the wall, “uh, maybe, you could do it for me?”, he requests as if asking Joyce if he could do his homework

“No.”

“Yeah you could. You could come over after work. Yes?”

“No. it only works if it comes from you. Besides you're the one who yelled at y/n. So, you're the one who will apologize.”, She punctuated her sentence by putting a tag on Hopper's shirt. “But…", She trailed off.

“But?”, Jim echoes.

“Maybe I can help you…”, she picks up a notepad from the counter, “find the right words.”

…

You have locked yourself in your room, not planning on seeing anyone. It's what you deserve anyway. Its probably for the better. The lights are turned off, the only source of light in the pitch darkness is spilling through the tiny gap of your slightly open door. You've hidden yourself under the blanket, the bed a mess from tossing and turning.

You hear muffled sounds of Jim reciting something in a monotonous tone from the room next to you. “...important to establish these boundaries...”, His muttering sounding like he had a cigarette between his teeth, “....we can create an environment where.... we feel comfortable, trusted and open….”, you hear him pause, “to share our feelings”. He pauses again and you turn around in your sheets, burying your head under the quilt not planning to hear any more of it. Because if you did you’d cry, whether of jealousy or hurt or regret or guilt, you did not know, you just knew that you would cry.

After some time you then heard the thump of his feet from his room. They stopped in front of your door for a few seconds and you think for just a second that maybe he will knock, maybe you both will fix this, but then they started moving again, moving further from your door and finally stopping in front of El’s door. He knocks. “Hey”

“Yes?”

“Can I talk to you guys, a minute?”, he asks. You couldn't hear the rest of the conversation as it was muffled by the walls and door. But you filled in the gaps— hopper was trying to talk to Eleven and Mike, possibly about the previous night. He was trying for Eleven. Not for you. For Eleven.

Then Hopper abruptly left with Mike— something about the boy's nanna. You knew that definitely wasn't the truth. For once, you felt bad for Mike.

...

"Y/n?", Eleven cracked the door open. You were lying in your bed, back facing the door. Eleven approached the foot of the bed. "Are you okay?", with knitted brows, she asks, eyes trying to adjust to the dark room.

"I just feel a little sleepy, El", she did not need to know about your fight with Hopper. She did not need to see that ugliness.

"Do you want to watch romcom?"

"You do that"

"And you?"

"I'm not in the mood, El. Kinda tired. I'll be fine, I think I just need sleep.”

The short haired girl nodded rather half-heartedly and left. A few seconds later, the door opened again, you didn't turn to see who it was. 

“Do you want ice cream? Hopper brought some”, It was Eleven again.

“... No, I'm alright”, you don't bother looking up.

"Y/n?", you feel her palm on your shoulder before you turn around hoping the dark room hid your red eyes. "I've kept your food here”, she tells you.

You give a faint smile at the girl's kindness. She closed the door behind herself, leaving.

After eating your food, you fall headfirst into the pillows and there lied Mr. Arnold. You held the bear flush against your chest. Maybe the soft toy could help you fix this too. It smelled like Eleven, you smiled at the thought of your sister and you hated the fact that you were jealous of her. She was the kindest, strongest and most adorable kid— and you'd talked to Hopper about her like you resented her. She was your sister, you loved her.

The bear also smelled like Steve. You missed him, you wondered what he was doing. You told yourself to call the boy after Hopper leaves the next morning. You are curled up in your bed, exhaustion overtaking you. Your eyelids grew droopy and soon you were drifting into sleep.

…

You’re in your room, grey and sterile. your headache had dulled out for the most part, although your eyes still felt too dry. Your Papa had come to check in on you. He said that you were getting better and that you could go back to lessons and the rainbow room from the next day.

The entire week you were like this he didn't bring up why you are hurt. You reckon he was disappointed. You don't bring it up either, just glad that you didn't have to wear the collar because you were hurt.

When the doctor gave you medicine with the injection, Papa held your hand, his other hand brushing over your shaved head to comfort you.

"Good job, Seven."

When the doctor leaves, you finally speak up, "Papa?", he looks at you, "are you angry... at me?"

"For what?"

"For what happened that day."

"No, Seven. I'm not. I am proud of you and the extent of your powers”, your heart swells at the praise, "now we just have to hone in on it. Get better at it. Do you understand?"

You nod silently. He clears his throat before getting up from beside your bed. He buttons his grey blazer, "now, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" you nod once again.

He is about to reach for the door when you speak up again, “Papa?”

“Yes, seven?”

“Where is my mother?”

He turns around, the wrinkles on his forehead more prominent, “What?” he walks back up to you.

“I was reading a book in the rainbow room", you explain, " The child in it had a papa and a mama. Why don't I have a mama?”

“Not everyone does, Seven", he answers curtly, “Your mother died when she gave birth to you” he says before once again turning to leave the room.

“You're lying”, he stops and turns and is met with your knitted brows, “I can tell you're lying.”

You see him purse his lips for a second before he speaks up, ”Well, your powers have never been reliable, have they? Your mother is dead.”

“Did I kill her? like I did with that man and the child.”

”yes. Get some rest. Lessons start again tomorrow, Seven."

“Yes Papa”, he is out the door before you even say the entire thing.

…

Hopper doesn’t know what the hell he is doing. He just knows one thing and that is that heart-to-hearts are not his thing. Not anymore anyway. He used to be better at this, at emotions. 

Ever since sarah… he’s felt like this. This empty chasm, this darkness. A black hole. That sucks in everything that is good, warm and bright. Everything he loves, everything he cares for, he swallows it all if it gets too close. It happened after sarah. And for a really long time, Jim decided to never let anyone in– which included you. Your younger self had tried, to win him over, to let his walls down but he hadnt let up. But then last year… Eleven managed to break down those walls, and just like he always does, he swallowed her whole. Enough that she had compared him to that psychotic man who called himself your papa, enough that she had decided to leave. And now he was doing it again, with you. 

Hopper fucking sucks at feelings, not because he doesn't feel but maybe because he doesn't want anyone else to know that he does. The folded-up paper in his hand makes it really fucking clear. And though his palm is slightly sweaty, he blames it on the summer. 

He hates that he shouted at you, multiple times.

Look at me when I’m talking to you.

That is what he had said back then, that is what he had said today. And he saw that same look on you, that deer-in-the-headlight look, the same one he saw on you when he first saw you at the police station. And he immediately regretted it. He and his inflated ego are to blame when he didn't apologize. But he will now, he is going to apologize. He is going to talk things out– have a heart-to-heart. You’re his kid dammit and you fucking deserve it.

Alright hopper, you got this. Just do what Joyce told you and they'll listen to you. 

He stops at your doorstep first, knuckles lifted to knock but then he hears Eleven giggling, and he glances over to her room. Mike is still here, he thinks. Let’s just deal with them first, lets get the easier conversation over with and then he’ll talk to you– he’ll tell you everything, he'll listen to you. 

But then he goes to Eleven’s room and asks if he could talk to them, and he tries he really does try but as it turns out the easier conversation still wasn’t easy at all. Hopper can't help but repeat history.

He has always felt cursed. Cursed to ruin everything as he tends to always end up doing. And in his anger he ends up blackmailing mike to stay away from his daughter.

When hopper came back, Eleven asked him if Mike's nanna (bless her) was okay. "Uh, yeah– she'll be fine kid– pretty sure it was a false alarm." He had lied through his teeth, but he doesn't take it back.

He doesn't take it back. he never goes to your room. he doesn't talk it out. So much for a heart-to-heart.

...

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #stranger things rewrite #steve harrington x gn!reader

[iliketangerines]

I've been loving ur work this past month, can't go a day without them 🥴 ... With that being said, could I ask for one with Johnny? Where the reader gets horny at work, and so she starts texting Johnny to tease him about it, going to the bathroom to send him spicy stuff and whatnot. I'm not particularly creative, so u may go all out with this one! Thank u !! 🥰

big tease

a/n: wrote this while i was at work actually lmao

pairing: johnny cage x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), phone sex (?)

you’re sitting in your chair, looking at the computer, except you can’t focus as you rub your thighs together and try to relieve some of the pressure between your legs

something about today had you particularly frustrated, and you desperately wanted Johnny right now, to hold you down and fuck you until you were satisfied

but you’re on the clock at your boring desk job, putting in data entries and receiving too much paperwork for one person

but still…you look from your cubicle to the entrance, you’re situated in one of the corners and tilted conveniently away from the cameras so that they couldn’t see you on your phone and only had a view of your back

you rub your thighs together, biting your lip, and you pull out your phone and click on Johnny’s contact in messages, typing in a simple text for him

it’s a simple message, that you want him, but knowing Johnny, he would be all over you if he could the second he saw the text

hitting the send button, you put down your phone and put on vibrate, not wanting to get caught being on your phone by your desk, and place it on your desk

then, you look at your phone again and then carefully pick it up and place it between your legs right against where your clit is

that way you would know exactly when Johnny texted you back, and then you went back to clicking away on the computer, trying not to focus on the way your phone was pressed right against you

the seconds seem to tick away slowly as you put in number after number, and then there’s a slight buzz against you, making your spine shoot straight

you hadn’t realized that the phone’s vibrate function was so strong

picking your phone up carefully, you unlock it and read Johnny’s text

he’s sent back that he wants you too, and a picture of himself sitting in a chair in his trailer, legs spread and an obvious bulge in his pants

usually you would snort at the picture, ever the diva and the need to take a good picture but there’s a buzzing in your head and you wish you were there between his legs instead

you text back that you need him to fuck you so bad, need him to ruin you right now and press send before shoving your phone right back between your legs

it’s a while before he texts back but when he does there’s several in a row, sending buzzes through your clit and up your spine

you’re sure that you’ve soaked right through your panties, but you can’t find yourself caring as you check what Johnny’s sent you

it’s a series of messages of him stuttering and then finally a text saying that he wishes he was there with you right now to bend you over your desk

another photo, him with his dick in hand, the tip flushed and a slight bit of pre-cum pearling at the tip, and you nearly drool as you wish you could get a taste

you shake the thought from your head as you type back a response with shaky fingers, speaking your thoughts and saying that you wanted his cock in your mouth

it’s just a short message, but you’re sure he would recall the memories of you in bed, his fingers in your hair pushing you down further, your lips stretched around the girth, the tears streaming down your cheeks

it’s only a minute when he responds back, and it’s a video this time

he’s slowly pumping his cock and god you wish you could turn on the audio and listen to his groans

his thumb swipes over the tip, spreading the pre-cum along the shaft, and then the video cuts off, only a few seconds long

his text underneath it reads that he wishes it was you because you would look so pretty between his legs right now

you can’t control the way your legs slightly twitch, how you want to grind your hips into your office chair except you’re still at work

so you hurry off to the bathroom and thankfully, they’re one of those family bathrooms where it’s like a small room in of itself

you lock the door, leaning against the wall, and turn on your own camera and record yourself with shaky hands as you dip your fingers below your waistband and rub at your swollen clit

small whines and whimpers come out of your throat, and you’re sure that the microphone has caught them as it points at your fingers moving underneath your pants

you dip your fingers a little lower and let out a little breath at how wet you are: you’ve definitely soaked through your panties

you slide in two of your fingers and curl them to push against that spot that makes you see stars, and you let out a small moan, hoping the door was thick enough to hide the sound

the pleasure is building, your palm grinding into your clit and your fingers buried deep in you, and the slick is just making everything so intense

you can barely think, only focused on how you desperately need to cum and that you want Johnny’s fingers  instead of your own

his are so much more rough and thicker than yours, and he would whisper in your ear with that smug voice of his and tell you to cum for him

he would be pressed against you, hot and heavy and so intense, and he would kiss you, tongue making its way into your mouth

he would trail kisses down your jawline and then suck dark hickeys into your neck, before biting you as you came

it’s enough to make you clench around your own fingers and cum on them, a slight whine of Johnny’s name coming out of your mouth 

you stop the video, taking a second to breathe as you slip your fingers out of yourself and stare at the mess on your fingers

you angle your phone with a shaky hand and take a picture of you licking your own cum off of your fingers, and then send the video and photo together

you collect yourself, wiping yourself clean with toilet paper and washing your hands in the sink, and you check your phone again and find a message from him

it’s a text saying that you’re in for a surprise when you get home, and there’s a photo of his cum splattered against his exposed stomach

you wish you could clock out early

#mortal kombat #mk #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mk x you #mk x y/n #mortal kombat smut #mk smut #johnny cage #johnny cage mk1 #mk1 johnny cage #johnny cage smut #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x you #johnny cage x y/n #tangerine writes #tangerine answers

[h0efor2ho]

Playtime Pt. 2

Yunho X Reader X Mingi

Part one: Here

WC: 3.1K (Oops)

TW: Exhibition, Dirty Talk, Use of nic names ( Princess, Pretty, Love ) fingering, masterbation, blind folded, clit play,

It's been almost three weeks since, "the incident" That's what you'r calling it. Refusing to think of it as what it was, you getting turned on by your boyfriends best friends listing to you ride his dick over their weekly PC game night. You haven't seen Mingi or Wooyoung since then. In fact you haven't seen any of Yunho's friends, except Hongjoon, who if he knew, didn't lead on that he did. Yunho hasn't brought it up either, so neither have you. You guess the both of you are just going to pretend it never happened. You can't lie, the idea of that makes you a little sad. 

You are in the process of going through the motions of wrapping up the end of your day at work when you phone pings with a new text message. 

Yunho : There was a package delivered for you today. When you get home I want you to put it on. I want you in that and only that. Wait for me, I'll be there in 30 minutes.

You read the message three times. As you process the the words, trying to figure out what he meant by it he text you again.

Yunho: Hurry up princess, don't make me wait for you.

You quickly spring into action. Shoving the last remaining papers on your desk into a folder and in your drawer. It will take you about 15 minutes to get home from your office. Leaving you 15 minutes to do what Yunho has told you before he gets home as well. The whole subway ride home your stomach is in knots. 'What could he have planned' you think to yourself as you ride the elevator up to your floor. As you step out you see a box sitting in front of your apartment door. Reading the label you instantly know what kind of night its going to be.

Making your way into your apartment, closing the door behind you, you tear into the box that bears the signature logo of Bluebella. Your favorite lingerie store. Inside you find the most beautiful blue silk chemises, with matching eye mask. You're busy admiring the items when your phone pings again. Another incoming text from Yunho.

Yunho: You have 10 minutes till I'm home. I want you sitting on the bed waiting for me in that.

It's like a zap of lightning goes through you as you quickly run to your closet to change. Discarding your work clothes in a half hazard heap on the floor, you quickly slip on the silk garment, the eye mask resting on your forehead as you go and sit on the end of the bed. Your legs dangling off as you nervously wait from Yunho to get home. It's not long before you hear his keys sliding into the lock of the front door. You quickly slide the eye mask down fro your forehead and over your eyes, shrouding your vision in darkness as you try and listen to his soft footsteps coming down the hall. 

You don't realize you were holding your breath till you hear the soft click of the bedroom door closing. You can feel the moment he enters your personal space, your body so in tune to his. A second later his hand is cupping one check as he connects your lips. It's a gentle, quick kiss before he's pulling back. "You listen so well my love" he whispers to you, his breath fanning over your face.  His hand sliding from your cheek down to your neck where it gently rests for a moment before he pulls it back. "I think you deserve a reward for being such a good girl for me" he says softly. 

The words accompanied by the sounds of movement around the room. You hear the clink of his belt, the hard sounds of your bedroom furniture being moved, the ruffle of fabric before you feel the bed dip next to you. Its only a second before his mouth is next to your ear "I think your going to enjoy this, but if at any point you want to stop you know your safe word, okay" you quickly shake your head, muttering out a small yes before he is pressing his mouth to your again.

This time it's not gentle, it's needy and hurried and filled with longing. You kiss his back with just as much vigor before it's broken again. You focus on catching your breath as you feel the bed dipping and rising around you before on of Yunhos strong arms is entangling its self around your waist and pulling you till your back meets his hard chest. You can feel all this muscles from his chest down to your favorite one between his legs, that is now very hard and bushing into your lower back. His free hand sweeping the hair back from your neck before he leans down to pepper kisses across your skin. 

Moving from your shoulder to the side of your throat. "Always such a good girl for me" he says in-between kisses. His hands sliding up from where they were on your stomach to palm your breasts through the thin silk material. His hard hands easily engulfing your chest as he gently squeezes. A small sound escaping you as he does it, gently arching into his touch more. "Do you like that baby?" he asks in your ear. Before he had even finished his sentence you had your head nodding yes. Slowly his hands continue to travel up from your chest to your throat. Wrapping around and giving it a gentle but tight squeeze you let out your first audible sound to him. 

The small whine leaves your throat as his hands release your throat from his grasp and slid to your shoulders. "Oh I think you like that" he says with much amusement in his voice "We'll have to remember that" he says as he lays another kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder. His hands sliding from the top of your shoulders and down your arms, it takes you a minute to realize that he caught the straps of your chamise and they were down going down with his hands. The silk sliding down over your pebbled nipples until they were exposed to the cold air of the room. "love these" he growls out from behind you as his hands once again cup your now exposed breasts. 

His long nimble fingers coming to pinch your nipples between them, tugging slightly. "Yu-Yunho" you pant out. Your body feels like a live wire is connected to it, buzzing where ever he touches. "Thats it princess" he coos as he continues to tug on your nipples. One of his hands comes down to the outside of your thigh, starting to trail up he pushes the fabric up your thighs and around your waist, making you completely exposed for him in-between his legs. It's not long before that same hand is now pressed to the inside of your thighs making a slow agonizing trail from your thighs up. 

The anticipation killing you, you need his touch. You know that once his hand connects with your core he will find you soaking wet. You gently tilt your hips up, trying to push into his incoming hand. As quickly as his hand was on your thigh it's now gone, but only for a second before you feel the sting of contact right in the middle of your legs. You yell out in pain as you realize Yunho just slapped your clit. Your legs quickly snapping shut "And here I was telling you how good your being" He says as he grabs each of your legs and hooks them over yours, making it impossible for you to close them now. "Don't be a needy little whore, be my good girl and take what I give you" he says as he returns his hand to your core.

He quickly slides his fingers between your slit, circling you tight hole one before pulling his hand away. What you cant see him do is hold his hand up and admire how wet his fingers are in front of your face "Your always so ready for me baby" he coos in your ear before you hear him moan followed by a pop sound. "Always taste so good too" he says after.

"Yunho please" you whine out again "Please what princes" he saw as he pulls your legs open wider "Please touch me" you beg him. You can feel the tears behind your eyes, the need to be touched becoming too much for you. "Of course baby" he says before sliding his hand back down between your body. You let out a moan at the contact, his hand releasing a bit of the ache you had. He quickly coats his fingers in your wetness before swiping them back up to rub small circles on your clit. 

You cant hold back your sounds anymore as he starts to build your body up. Swipe after swipe of his long fingers bringing your body higher and higher. His other hand coming down to spread you wide as he continues to work your clit "Look how ready" he breaths out "She's always so wet and ready" With his other hand he pushes in one of his long, delicate fingers into your wet hole. Your hips involuntary jerk as he hooks his finger in a come here motion, hitting the spot you love. You're trying your best to hold still in his arms as loud moans fill the room, your body coming to the edge. Just a few more swipes of Yunho's fingers and you know that band in your stomach is going to snap. 

"You do sound so pretty in person"

The blood in your vines freezes. The air you were sucking in caught in your windpipe now. It's like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on you.

Because the deep voice that just said that, the deep voice you know so well, came from in front of you and does not belong to your boyfriend.

"Mi...Mingi?" you stammer out. 

Yunho's hand comes away from you'r clit and before you know it your vision is flooding with light. They're in front of you, sitting back in the wingback chair that is usually in the corner of the room, eyes devouring you, is your boyfriends best friend, Mingi. He's leaning back with his legs wide. Dressed in slacks and a button down, the first button undone, tie loosened and sleeves pushed up his forearms, you figure he came home with Yunho. 

"Surprise princess" Yuhno whispers in your ear as he starts to work his finger in and out of you again. "Do you want to use your safe word" he asks you quietly. Your eyes lock with Mingi's, nothing pure fire and desire burning in them as he watches Yunho toy with your body. "No" you whisper. "Good girl" Mingi says in his deep voice, his eyes flicking down, tracking Yunho's hand travel back down your body till he finds your clit again. The first swipe of the pad of his finger sending your hips jerking again. "Very good girl" Mingi says again. 

A shudder racks through your body as the words slip past his lips. You feel Yunho slip his finger from your entrance, a whimper falling past your lips as you feel the emptiness. "Don't worry princess, I'm not going anywhere" He chuckles as you feel him push two fingers now back into you. The sound that comes from you is almost animalistic as he stretches you open. Your head falling back on to Yunho's shoulder as he works his fingers in and out of you "God she does sound so good" Mingi's gruff voice cuts through your haze.

Tilting your head back up, your met with the site of him palming the growing bulge in his pants.  You cant help yourself but to watch, your whole body heating up as you watch your boyfriends best friend, rub his cock while he watches you get fingered by said boyfriend. The whole situation was obscured, but you cant help the way your walls involuntary start to clench watching him palm himself. The action didn't go un noticed. "Why don't you tell him to take it out baby" Yunho says between kisses on your neck "Tell him you want to see him" 

You're convinced these men are trying to kill you, because that's exactly what is going to happen if you ask Mingi to see his cock. But you can't help but keep watching him, growing slightly bigger with each pass of his hand over the crotch of his pants. "Mi- Mingi?" you tentatively say. "Mm yes pretty" he responds, never taking his eyes off your core where he is watching Yunho's fingers disappear and reappear inside your wet hole. "Can.. can I see it?" you ask in a small quite voice. "What was that" he says. "Can I see it? Can you take your cock out for me, want to see it"

A string of expletives leaves Mingi's mouth as he throws his head back and groans. "Sure thing pretty" he finally says after a long pause.  He holds eye contact with you as his hands get to work undoing his belt and flicking open the button. He drags the zipper down before hooking his thumbs in the waist of his pants. Slightly lifting his hips he slowly drags his pants down till the waist is at the top of his thighs. Slowly he reaches down and pulls his length free and the breath you were inhaling gets lodged in your throat.  You knew he was going to be big with his hight and how big his hands were, but you were not prepared for what you were looking at. He was just an inch or so shorter in length than Yunho, which was still very long, but he was noticeably thicker. 

You watched as his hand wrapped around the base of his cock and slightly squeezed. The action followed by a groan leaving him from deep in his chest. "Oh I think she likes what she see's" Yunho chuckles "She's tightening around my fingers" You didn't even realize you were doing it. "Do you pretty? You like watching me play with my cock for you?" He groans out, the sound of his deep voice going right to your core that Yunho is currently pumping his long fingers in and out of. You shake your head yes, while eyeing his hand that is how starting to gently slide up his long shaft. "Use your words, want to hear that pretty voice of yours" 

"Yess" you hiss out as Yunho pumps his fingers a little rougher into you. You notice Mingi watching your boyfriends hand, as his picks up the pace to match it. You can't hold back the sounds anymore as you watch him jerk off for you, working his hand up and down as Yunho's fingers go in and out. The sounds of your moaning mixing with Mingi's little grunts and Yunho's fingers pushing into your wet hole. It's pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck" mingi grunts as his hips jerk up into his hand. "Always knew you would look so good naked" He pants. "Used to tell Yu how lucky he was to have someone like you" 

"He does" Yunho coo's into your ear "He always tells me how good you look and how lucky I am to be with you" He peppers kisses along the side of your face "Knew he would just love to see it first hand. Are you going to show him princess. Are you going to come apart on my fingers while Mingi fucks his hand wishing it was your pretty cunt" His hands curling again and hitting that spot you love so much as he picks up the pace. "Oh fuck Yuyu! Not gonna last long" you cry as your hips start to jerk to meet his thrusting fingers. His other hand rubbing tight circles on your slick clit. 

"You going to cum for me pretty? Cause I'm going to cum for you" Mingi says, his hips lifting up with each thrust into his tightened hand. "Fuck yes Min" you cry out "So close" you whine the band in your lower stomach becoming tighter and tighter. You know what's going to happen before you do it. You feel your body tightening as Yunho curls his fingers again hitting your gspot. Your walls fluttering before calmping down on his fingers in a vice grip. Release flooding from your hole. Because Yunho's fingers were still pumping in and out of you, when your body lets go and you squirt it goes everywhere. All over your bed, all over the floor since you're at the edge of the bed and more importantly all over Mingi's lap as he's sitting in front of the bed.

"Oh FUCK" he crys out as your juice splash all over his lap, his hand and his cock he's working. It takes him 0.3 seconds before he is summing on his hand right behind you. The view of your cunt squirting yore release all over sending him over the edge. His hand is covered in his cum as he give his big cock a few more tugs. You look on panting as he brings his hand up between the two of you. "Open up pretty" he smirks. "Go ahead love" Yunho says from behind you, his fingers now lazily sliding in and out of your hole. You do as you're told and open your mouth, just as Mingi shoves his middle and pointer finger onto your mouth. He wipes the cum from his fingers on your tongue before pulling them back. 

You quickly close your mouth and swallow his release. "Such a pretty good girl" he coos at you. "Yes she's always such a good girl" Yunho says as his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back onto his chest, legs still hooked over his thighs keeping you on display. "You did so good for us baby" Yunho says as he brushes your hair from your face. "But I know how you can be even better" his eyes shifting from yours over to his best friend "Why don't you be the best girl and let Mingi have a taste of the mess he made"

.... to be continued ...

Tag list : @tunaasan @dawn-iscozy @mingisdimple @uarmytess @kitty4hwa @trivia-134340 @winklehwa @everythingboutkpop @vampzworld @skittyneos

If you'd like to be tagged in the next part please let me know (:

#ateez #yunho #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #ateez hard thoughts #ateez fanfic #yunho ateez #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #yunho smut #yunho scenarios #song mingi #mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi scenarios #mingi #ateez mingi #mingi hard thoughts #mingi hard hours #yunho hard thoughts #yunho hard hours

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

The Morning After Sexy-Times with HSR/Nikke Gals of your choice?

(H:SR/GOV: NIKKE) The morning after with Bronya, Seele, Natasha, Rapi, Anis, and Neon

Mild NSF-W Implications below the cut!

Over my vacation I've been reading a lot of NIKKE fics and I am happy to write for them more

Bronya's eyes flutter open once the lights come in through the window, feeling a familiar warmth at her side.

She smiles before cuddling closer into her S/O, not wanting to get up just yet.

(Bronya) "S/O, are you awake?"

(S/O) "...Mhm. Morning."

Bronya giggles before fondly gazing into their eyes.

(Bronya) "I must get ready soon but...I think I'll indulge myself a for at least a little longer."

(S/O) "Indulge all you want, Lady Bronya.~"

Both of them chuckle before relaxing back into the bed and enjoying the silence together.

It wasn't often the two of them could share an intimate moment like this, or like last night for that matter.

But it was times like these that Bronya wish time could stop.

Seele yawns loudly before her hands freeze at a presence in her bed.

And promptly lowering her guard, remembering what happened.

Seele feels S/O stir awake, but she doesn't move.

Instead, she tilts her head slightly and gives a smile.

(Seele) "...Hey."

(S/O) "Sleep well?"

(Seele) "Thanks to you, pretty good."

Seele teased before shifting the blanket aside to get dressed.

She simply tossed S/O their clothes from the ground before stretching and getting dressed herself.

(Seele) "Come on, up and at 'em."

(S/O) "Easy for you to say, I felt like I was drained for everything I had-"

Seele chuckled, already standing by the door and leaning against the wall.

(Seele) "Jeez, we really need to get your endurance up."

S/O's vision is blurred as they open, being awoken from a soft warm sensation on their forehead.

After a few seconds, they could see Natasha's face a few inches away, with a smile.

(Natasha) "Rise and shine, S/O."

Her hand gently rubbed their head, Natasha's thumb brushing the spot where she kissed them before sitting upright.

(S/O) "Morning, Nat."

With S/O finally getting up, Natasha leans onto them and inhales deeply for a moment, her chest lowering once she let a sigh of satisfaction out.

(Natasha) "You're cute when you're sleeping."

(S/O) "Only when I'm sleeping?"

Laughing at their response, Natasha kisses their shoulder.

(Natasha) "Maybe a little more when you're underneath me."

Rapi is rather stiff (HA) in the bed. As a NIKKE, she doesn't need to breathe, but she feels content hearing her S/O.

And sensing that they're about to be awake, Rapi makes sure the first thing they see is her smile.

(Rapi) "Good morning, S/O."

And her core starts to warm up faster once S/O's hand rests underneath her cheek, letting more of her face weigh into them.

(S/O) "Hey, Rapi. What time is it?"

(Rapi) "10:24 in the morning. We do have tasks to complete today but..."

Her hands fidget for a moment before relaxing and closing her eyes.

(Rapi) "...But we can afford a little more time for us right now."

(S/O) "Sounds perfect."

The first thing Anis wakes up to is her S/O using her boobs as a pillow.

Her eyes widened and jaw dropped, ready to scream: "WHAT THE HELL?!"

Before promptly remembering what happened last night.

Instead, Anis clicks her tongue and sighs, failing to contain a smile.

(Anis) "Psh, pervert."

Her hand rustles their hair before grabbing their shoulders and back onto the actual pillow.

She couldn't deny that it was cute though.

(S/O) "Hm...Anis?"

(Anis) "What's up?"

She flashes a toothy smile at them before rolling to her side, facing them.

(Anis) "Next time, warn me before you use me as a pillow, by the way. I was totally not expecting that."

(S/O) "...After last night?-"

(Anis) "-Listen, it's just super early in the morning right now, don't give me that!"

Neon's head is on S/O's chest, she yawns obnoxiously before leaping back in surprise, realizing both of them were naked.

(Neon) "OH MY GOSH, WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO OUR CLOTHES?!"

Her screaming makes S/O almost shoot up.

(S/O) "Wha-?! Are we under attack?!"

Both of them look at each other before turning a scarlet hue, clearing their throats.

(Neon) "A-AHEM! A...A good morning to you...!"

(S/O) "Ah...y-you too, Neon."

An awkward moment of silence passes before Neon's hand goes under the blanket, covering her mouth as she averted her gaze.

(Neon) "Um...w-want to cook breakfast together before we go to the firing range?"

S/O smiles at her, grabbing her glasses from the nearby desk before gently putting it around her ears.

(S/O) "Sounds lovely."

Another voice from the other side of the wall made the couple freeze up again.

(Anis's Voice) "And speaking of sounds, keep it down! Some of us were trying to sleep you know!"

(Neon) "HEY! Don't listen in on us! That's SUPER private!"

(Anis's Voice) "Then put a gag on or something!"

...

(Anis's Voice) "...That sounded a lot better in my head."

(Commander's Voice) "Stop shouting through the walls, just talk normally outside!"

(S/O & Neon) "S-Sorry, Commander!" "Sorry, Master!"

All three of them couldn't hear the Commander sigh on the opposite side of the wall.

#honkai star rail x reader #goddess of victory: nikke x reader #bronya hsr x reader #seele hsr x reader #natasha hsr x reader #rapi nikke x reader #anis nikke x reader #neon nikke x reader #bronya honkai star rail #seele honkai star rail #natasha honkai star rail #rapi nikke #anis nikke #neon nikke #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail headcanons #goddess of victory: nikke imagines #goddess of victory: nikke headcanons #nsft

[kittyhui]

exes to lovers! seungcheol x reader

!!MDNI!!

[seungcheol ended your five year long relationship seemingly out of nowhere, leaving you heartbroken. two years after your breakup, you release your solo album, song written about the heartbreak you felt. now, seungcheol is trying to get your love back]

cw: idol x idol, angst w/ comfort, semi public sex, not grammar checked well😭

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I think we should break up” is all Seungcheol says to you, sad in his eyes.

He walks out of your apartment, not staying to listen to your cries and pleads, asking for an explanation on why he was so suddenly doing this. He was a completely different person from the last time you saw him; his love-filled eyes replaced with cold and sad ones.

You tried to contact him multiple times after that; calls and messages never answered, leaving you and your heart shattered, your members having to pick up the pieces. A five year old relationship gone in a flash, without a reason, without even a thought of why. Did i do something wrong? Did he grow tired? Was there.. someone else? The situation hurt you so badly, that even fans could tell something was wrong. Your relationship was a secret from fans and from your company, save from the members. Your performance during promotions were off and it took you almost a full year to get back on your game, taking a hiatus at one time because it was just so bad. but you were feeling better now. It’s now past your two year breakup anniversary, and though you think about the good times of your old relationship, you weren’t consumed with grief anymore. You felt much better, better than ever. Better enough to release your first solo album, songs written from that time.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[interviewer] So, What was the thought process behind this album?

[Y/N] All these songs are a part of a giant collection of songs while i was going through a lot of feelings haha. Most of these were my inner thoughts and feelings that I couldn't express to anyone else so I wrote them out. they’ve only now came out because I was finally confident in myself and these songs after years and my members helped build my courage to share them with you all.

[Interviewer] I’m happy that you were finally able to overcome your fears with your songs.

[Y/N] Thank you so much

[Interviewer] Do you think you could go more in depth about the song meanings?

[Y/n] Yea, of course. The first song on the album can be interpreted in multiple ways in my opinion. When I wrote this, I was thinking about someone I loved truly. I wrote this wishing that the way they ended it could’ve been that we just fell out of love. I wanted us to be tired of each other, to just want it to be over and so I wrote this point of view wishing this was the reality, even though I knew how much I still loved them. It’s very sad and kinda pathetic but yea haha.

For the second track, I wrote this because in this same relationship, the way we broke up was so rushed and I was not ready for it. I felt like they didn’t even feel anything towards me anymore and it broke me down so much. By the end of the song, I kinda accept it as the end and try to let them go.

Ah~ This third track was actually wrote when i was first in that relationship. We were both falling hard and fast and I had to let it out in a way. I can’t really explain more.

[Interviewer] And lastly, the fully english track?

[Y/N] This one really talks about how even if I’ll be in another relationship in the future, I’ll only think about and try to find them in the other person. I wrote this the latest out of all of them. I knew I was still in love with this person even though it’s been years since the breakup but I know I’ll always see them as my first and only love even if they don’t see me the same way.

[Interviewer] These are all truly beautiful songs

[Y/N] Thank you

[Interviewer] We just have a few more questions before we say goodbye today. Firstly, You said these songs were in a collection of other songs, will you release the rest of them as well?

[Y/N] Maybe, I’m surprised I got away making this album so hopefully I can push my companies limits a tad more.

[Interviewer] Next question, This relationship you sing about seemed really intense. Was it a long one?

[Y/N] Yea, It dont think I can go into too many details but it was a pretty serious relationship. When it ended, I took it very hard. I liked them for a long time before too so it was rough haha

[Interviewer] Last question, Because you produce and write songs for your group, Have you ever wrote about this relationship in those songs?

[Y/N] Honestly I couldn’t tell you. I try not to because I’m still not the best about this relationship I was in but it’s probably slipped in a few songs unfortunately haha

[Interviewer] Thank you so much for coming onto my show today!

[Y/N] I’m honored to be asked here for an interview, thank you. I’d also like to say thank you to my fans and anyone else who is listening in! Please enjoy my new album!

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Needless to say, your interview was seen by alot of people. Neitzens have been picking it apart since it came out, speculating on the mystery person you were talking about. Your fans were both happy for you and angry for you; ready to fight the person who broke your heart. Though the publicity was great for your album sales and streams, the constant news was really tiring now, especially now that you were promoting at music shows. Music shows that your ex, S.Coups of Seventeen, was also promoting at with his group. Singing a song about your heartbreak in the same place of the person who hurt you so bad, was awkward to say the least. The waiting room of the music show was the worst. passing by him and his group makes your heart pound. His eyes follow you when you pass by each other. you try not to meet his eyes. Your heart just couldn’t handle it. Your still wanted him yet you hated him at the same time. You wanted to kiss him again but also wanted to hit him. The last conversation you both had together was him breaking up with you. He hurt you so badly yet you yearned for him.

So when he approached you before your performance, you felt conflicted.

“Y/n?” The familiar voice fills your ears and you look up at the man standing infront of your sitting figure.

“Seungcheol? What are you doing” You didn’t actually think he would speak to you again, but here he was.

“Can we- can we talk?” He pauses, licking his lips nervously “I know you probably never want to speak to me ever again but I just want a second of your time.”

“You really have horrible timing. I going on stage in a few minutes. Please don’t do this now. You had two years to talk about this,” You look away from his, glancing to the side “We can talk.. after the music show is over. Don’t expect too much, though” You stand and walk to the stairs of the stage and he sighs, agreeing to meet later on.

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The music show ends entirely too quickly for your liking, leg bouncing nervously in your dressing room and when you hear a knock at the door you know it’s Seungcheol. You open the door, the man in front of you quickly walking in and closing the door again.

“Y/n..” He sighs

“Seungcheol,” You try to sound disinterested but inside you just want to hug him. “Please just say what you have to say”

“I just want to say I’m so sorry for the way I ended things. I know I hurt you beyond belief and it hurts that I hurt you. I watched your interview and.. god.. I care about you so much.. I never wanted to break up with you but I had to..” His eyes brim with tears and he lets out a haggard breath.

“Then why did you? Five years, Seungcheol. I loved you for five years, hell, I still love you after what you did, but, just why? I felt like I wasted all those years for nothing. I want to marry you… I wanted to have everything with you.. You were my first everything and you hurt me like I was nothing..” You were choking on your tears at this point, the salty liquid pooling in you lips “You were more than just a boyfriend to me, Seungcheol. You were the love of my life.”

“Y/n.. I.. I didn’t break up because I wanted to.. your company found out.. they threatened your career if I didn’t break up with you.. I tried to convince them to let us be, but they were persistent and my company was pressuring me as well.. I shouldve fought for you more.. I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you what was happening but… I was a coward. I never stopped loving you, y/n.. You’re the love of my life too. I had every intention of being with you until the day I died, and I want to fight for you now even though I didn’t before.”

The shock of what he said lingers in your mind. You look at him without saying anything. He sat down next to you, letting you process his words. After some time you finally spoke.

“I dont know what to say,” You start “I believe you even though that means my company did this too me but.. I dont know. I want to forgive you. I want you, Cheol. I want you to be in my life again. but it took me so long to recover from this. I dont know if we’ll ever be what we were before,” He looks down at his feet in defeat “But we can try..” He looks up at you again, eyes brightening.

He finally smiles, “You dont understand how badly I missed you…” He hugs you tightly before looking into your eyes and then looking down at your lips “can I..” You nod slowly, waiting for his lips to touch yours.

He kisses your lips with hunger, holding on to you for fear you might run away “Missed you.. Misses your touch.. ‘m so sorry, my love” He pushes you flat on the couch you were sitting on, kissing you face and neck with desire. He missed this so much. “I love you, baby. Please let me make you feel good.. Love you..” You whine at his words, hips grinding up at his.

“l-love you too, Cheolie.. Please.. Need you so bad” Your hands move up and down his clothed back. “Please..missed you too” He kisses you quickly, breaking away to remove the both of your clothes.

“Just a gorgeous as I remember,” He mutters under his breath. You can feel his hard member on your stomach, moaning at the anticipation of having him after so long. “Need to be inside you so bad, baby”

“mhm please, cheolie..“ You pull him closer, begging him to do anything.

“shhh, ill take care of you, baby.” he coos at you, finally pushing in, “shit- so tight.. you feel so good baby” he brushes the hairs out of your face, kissing your forehead gently. “So good for me, my love”

“Please move- Please I need it. Cheolie- Needed this so bad” You sob as he finally starts to roll his hips into yours, groans falling from his mouth.

“God- y-you’re too good, baby. Am I making you feel good, hm?” He fucks into you faster, rougher, breathlessly calling out your name into your ear.

“yes yes makin’ me feel so good- gonna cum soon” You hips rut into his, determined to make both of you cum.

“b-baby” He pushes your hips back into the couch, “Be good- i’ll let you cum, promise…” He breathes out hot breath, eyes blown wide as he pounds into you; your heat sucking him in dangerously. “Cum for me please, need you to cum, baby.”

Your desperation for each other was unmatched and you were sure that the people walking past your dressing room can hear the obscene noises coming from it, but you could care less. The pleads for more came out if your mouth like a ritual and Seungcheol knew you were close. One of his hands grip your own, telling you to cum, and what else can you do when his cock twitches inside of you so deliciously. You cry out his name once more before cumming hard. Feeling you pulse around him, he fills you up with spurts of his hot cum in you. “Fuck, did you so good, my love. I love you so much” He breathes out, pecking your lips once again.

You look into his eyes, dazed, and welling with tears again. His happy demeanor changes ones again. “Hey. Hey, Y/n. What’s wrong? Did i do something?” He looks you up and down, checking for injuries. Making sure he didn’t fuck this up again.

“No- i just- i just missed you so much, Cheolie,” you cry out. “Love you so much..” His arms are around you before you can even say another word. He murmurs I love you’s into your ears, kissing the tears rolling down your face.

“I love you too, baby. let’s go home hm?”

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a/n: these are the songs i used as reference for the solo album songs:

1. Can’t Love You Anymore - IU

2. Goodbye - OOHYO

3. Fallin’ - Yoon Hyun Sang

4. Glimpse of Us - Joji

this was so spur of the moment #loveit

#seventeen #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader