#i want to write it up and put it on my wall

[testrella]

CRAZY RICH ASIANS…! G.SATORU X READER

𝜗𝜚 |CHAPTER TWO : rare sighting.

NEXT… CHAPTER THREE : satoru 'gatsby' gojo

“you scored a 0% on a true or false quiz,” you slide the paper across the desk towards megumi. “which…came to a surprise to me as you don’t usually score this low. but it’s been happening so much i decided to pull you aside.”

you sat quietly at your desk, it was time for school dismissal but regardless you stopped megumi before he could leave. you watched his gaze be fixed onto the floor as he came up with some sort of excuse.

“a 0%..? a few more of those and i guess i’ll have to be kicked out of this sch-”

you interrupted him, “if a person wearing a blindfold were picking answers on a true or false quiz at random, do you know what score they would get?”

megumi’s eyes flickered down at his paper and back at you. “..50%.?” he remained silent until it finally clicked for him, “w-wait wai-”

“exactly, which means the only way to get all the answers wrong,” you write a 100% on what used to be a score of 0% onto his paper, “is to know what answers are right.” 

megumi’s cheeks flushed slightly out of embarrassment, and looked away from you. he had some nerve trying to fail your class on purpose.

you soften your tone before speaking again, “you want to give up but i’m not going to let you.”

megumi finally built up the courage to look you in the eye, his expression was a mix of guilt and shame. “it’s just a stupid quiz miss. l/n..” he muttered.

“megumi fushiguro, i will not allow you to fail. you have potential, so use it.”

megumi stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his bowtie to properly fit his collar, as he recalled one of the earliest memories of you. it was about the third time he’s ‘fixed’ his bowtie, only for him to undo it and try again. 

the elegant dining hall in the hotel was full of live music, soft murmuring from the people attending and clinking of silverware. there were government officials, professional sport players, and well known clans from all of japan. a small dinner hosted by gojo that was only supposed to be a sign of his gratitude turned into an elite party posted on all the newspapers. 

despite his nose being filled with smells of his favorite dishes, and his ears listening to his favorite band perform downstairs, he couldn't help but be nervous. you were told it was going to be a small dinner but there were news reporters outside the hotel. there were the regular common folk outside the gates as well, hoping to get a glance of the life of being an elite. no matter how prepared you thought you were, you weren’t prepared enough. 

you sit across your friend from her dining table. the both of you attended the same university back in the united states. the difference is that you were majoring in education while she was getting her doctorate within two years as a foreign exchange student. to say her strive for excellence consumed her entire life was an understatement. it had been so long since the two of you had a chance to reunite, with her busy running a hospital at 26 and yourself being busy settling down in japan. 

“so i have dinner tonight with one of my students' guardians,” you mentioned as you took a bite from one of the side dishes provided to you. her home was no doubt worth over 90 million ¥. the floors were a clean and white marble and the walls seemed to stretch so high it could reach the clouds. it almost looked like a hospital, how ironic. 

“i’m really excited since the dinner is to be hosted in the grand hotel in central tokyo.” you mentioned. 

suddenly, the servants that rushed from point A to point B stopped, your friend dropped her fork into her soup and the dogs stopped barking. it goes dead silent and the only noise heard was your slow chewing.

“y/n.. did you just say you’re having dinner at the gojo grand hotel? you know, the one everybody in japan has been talking about?!” shoko whispered-yelled. 

“uh- yeah, mr. gojo invited me to-”

a servant puts herself into the conversation, “the gojo satoru personally invited you to attend?? how do you come across him so casually! they say he’s japan’s bruce wayne, never seen in public unless its-”

“unless it’s for business. someone like you would’ve never come across him! neither of us would except ms. shoko..” another chimes in. by now everyone is looking at you and whispering comments. with the limited information provided, you assume mr. gojo was a rare sighting, like bigfoot.

“do you not know who satoru is? do-does she not know?” shoko asked around, slightly laughing at the confusion written all over your face. shoko takes a sip from her wine as she rubbed her nose. 

“you’re going to the gojo clan’s resort dressed like that?” she teased and everyone around you let out a muffled giggle. 

you looked down at your casual attire. “what’s wrong with what i’m wearing?”  

shoko grabs you by the arm, pulling you out from the dining room. “come with me. you’ll thank me later but you cannot go looking like that.” 

you find yourself going in and out of her walk in dressing room, and being rated how how flattering the dress fits you. 

as you’re changing out of one of many dresses, shoko mentions gojo again. “you know, him and i go way back.” 

you turn to her, “mr gojo?” you suck your stomach in as she tightens the back of another dress. “i’ve never heard of him.” 

“of course you haven’t, you foreigners know nothing about japan’s elite.” you watched her from the mirror in front of you, her eyebrows knit together when she’s tying the back of the dress. 

“japan’s elite?” you questioned.

“satoru is from the gojo clan, one of the richest and old money family in japan. his family owns like half of

japan,” your mouth slowly gapes open as she reveals this information. “they say when you stand next to satoru, you’re nothing but an ant compared to him.” 

shoko pauses to admire you. the dark navy floor length dress flattered you in all the right places. it was certainly something out of your tax bracket.

“he’s apart of the most influential family ever.” she whispered. in a way, she wanted to warn you of what you’re about to step into. it’s a different world than the one you’re living in. 

“how do you know him then?” 

“we met back in high school. he’s the only reason i was able to attend school overseas.”

you looked back at her, “what do you mean?” 

“he paid for my tuition.” she smiled.

your face goes pale. if it weren’t for your full ride scholarship, there wasn’t a chance in the world you’d be where you are now. standford wasn’t exactly the most affordable option. 

suddenly, your stomach starts turning and flipping in ways you didn’t want it to. it was nerve wracking. 

“y/n, don’t be nervous about attending the party. sure, he has a shit ton of money but he’s still a humble guy deep down.” you snort at the last comment. how could someone as rich as him be humble?

“i think i’ll feel a lot better if you came with me shoko.” you face her as she cups your face with the gentle care you’d give a wilted flower. 

“i guess seeing that blue eyed freak won’t be too bad.” 

as the car pulled up to the main entrance of the hotel, your heart started pounding rapidly fast. you continue to wipe your sweaty palms against your seat before stepping out the car. the valet takes the keys from shoko before greeting you. 

“you look amazing, y/n. don’t stress. you belong here just as much as anyone else here.” she whispered some words of encouragement before you spot a familiar jet black haired boy. 

“megumi!” you exclaimed excitedly. relief came washing over you as you spotted your student. 

megumi, dressed in a black and white tux, gave you a soft smile before walking up to you. he extends his arm as he offered to escort you inside. 

“ms. l/n! i’m really happy to see you. i know this was supposed to be small but gojo got caught up with his business.” he continues to hold onto your arm before letting go when the both of you enter, allowing an attendant takes your coat from you. 

he guides you through the lobby and, into the ballroom that is covered in marble floors and crystal chandeliers. all of it scream luxury as you admired the family portraits and spotting a familiar white haired male as a baby. 

megumi finds gojo across the ballroom before you do since you’re too occupied on viewing the art. “gojo has a habit of making things a lot bigger than it needs to be. i’ll leave you in his care.” 

from across the ballroom, gojo observed megumi guiding you through the room with an unusual feeling of anxiety. he had always been confident, some may say overly confident, in meeting new people or greeting them. introducing himself to others was something he knew like the back of his palm. he was charismatic and witty; people loved him.

but tonight felt different the moment he laid his eyes on you. the blue gown, that coincidentally matched his tie, caught the eye of not just himself but every other man in the room. he was around the presence of the most important figures yet he felt a twinge of nervousness in his stomach build up as you got closer and closer. 

‘seriously? out of all the nights to feel this way it just had to be tonight?’ he thought. 

he glanced around the room, desperately trying to maintain his composure, but his thoughts were going 100 miles a minute. it felt like he was back in secondary school and had a schoolboy crush. 

gojo felt a surge of warmth as you presented yourself in front of him. you looked even more breathtaking up close. you had his full attention. before you could see through him, he quickly puts up his business facade. “ms. l/n! it’s a pleasure to see you tonight.” he said in his infamous charismatic manner. 

you shake his hand that he extended out. “the pleasure is all mine. although, i was told this would be a small dinner between you, megumi and myself.” you joked.

he chuckled a bit before leading you into a private room upstairs. the conversation on the way up flows naturally, starting off how the day was going for the both of you. 

“wait wait wait, let me get this straight. you had no idea who i was before you shoko? and you know shoko too?!” the two of you were a few drinks in. a slight blush was spread across his cheeks. 

“well i am a foreigner, i wasn’t aware how prominent your family is.” you giggled as you took another sip of wine. 

laughter bounced off the walls as the two of you dined together the entire night. he found himself captivated by your intelligence, kindness and how naive you were. 

and for the first time in gojo’s life, he felt truly engaged in a conversation. nothing business or family related, only a genuine conversation between two people. 

tag list @roscpctals99 @poeticlovefanpage @mistyheart @sureconfused @chilichopsticks @lightshowerrr @faeryminnyx @0001010dog @myabae @nivi @therealestpussyeater @kolpvii @sleepykittycx @browrm @tojisworm-5 @universallystrangeravenue @catobsessedlady @shivzypuff @nico707 @invisible-mori @peqch-pie @dilflover-3 @lovelivelaygh1324 @moOsin @gojoracle @foliea @honoredalone @goldenglow149 @portgas459ace @sealsu @misorastars @hyori2 @selysixn @silkija @prettylvne @r0ckst4rjk @ritsatoru @starlostwish @yihona-san06 @zoeyflower @mx-mekla @iaminyourfloors @gabi-moureira  @thesharkcollector @misorastars @hyori2 @selysixn @miffysoo @lordbugs @mimidonottouch @moonlightazriel @bubybubsters

#jjk #jjk manga #jjk x reader #fanfic #geto suguru #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #female reader #jjk suguru #angst #jjk shoko #shoko ieiri #shoko x reader #rags to riches #gojo saturo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk spoilers #japan #forbidden love #forbidden romance #crazy rich asians

[naturesapphic]

Pressure

Billie eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, strap-on, daddy!billie, tongue sucking, choking, cussing

A/n: @bilswildflower said she wanted someone to write it so I thought I would make a little something hehe

Billie had you against the wall pounding into you with no mercy in her veins. You were in one of the rooms backstage on the Stephen Colbert show and Billie had already went on, but will soon be performing one of her songs called “lunch” live. She would be going on in ten minutes and here she was fucking your brains out.

“F-fuck daddy!” You moaned out as Billie had your legs wrapped around her waist and your hands clawing at her clothed back. Her face was in your neck leaving love bites behind as she used one of her hands that was holding you up and trails it up your body. She lifted her face out of your neck and gripped your throat in her ring covered hand and kissed you deeply.

You both moaned in each others mouths and Billie starting shoving her tongue down your throat. You whimpered as her tongue explored your mouth and removed her hand from your throat to trail down to your stomach and apply pressure to see where the strap is. She smirked against your lips, breaking the kiss “mmm…right there…let’s see if I can go deeper how’s that mamas?” Billie whispered against your ear and you felt your eyes roll in the back of your head at her tone.

You whimpered out a yes and Billie gave you a smile and leaned down to kiss you again. She used her strength to put one of your legs over her shoulder and started pounding into you more at this new found angle and you moaned loudly. Hearing the moans and noises you make because of her makes Billie go absolutely feral. You kept moaning against her mouth and Billie takes that at another invitation to push her tongue in.

She swirls all in your mouth and finds your tongue and starts sucking on it, leaving trails of spit coming down the side of y’all’s mouths. You felt the strap on go deeper and deeper and Billie put her hands on your stomach against and pressed down back on it and smirked. “That’s more like it. Are you gonna come for daddy sweet girl?” She asked and you nodded, pressing your sweaty forehead against hers. Her thrusts started to become faster and harder making your legs shake, as you let out one final guttural moan before you came all over her.

She smiled and slowly pulled out of you, your cum leaking out of your pussy. Billie licks her plump lips at the state you are in and picks you up in her arms and sits you on the couch. She goes into the bathroom and gets a warm rag and starts cleaning you up as you sat on the couch, panting. “You did so good for me babygirl. So good.” She praised you and you gave her a tired smile as she leans down to kiss you softly. Someone knocks on the door telling Billie she’s about to go on and she looks at you “stay here and get some rest baby because im no where near done with you.” She rasped out and gave you a wink before helping you put your underwear and pants back on.

She then gives you her blazer to cover up with while you take your little nap. Billie walks to the door before spinning around and looking at you with a loving expression “I love you mamas.” She said sweetly and you felt your heart burst at the sincerity in her voice. “I love you more bils.” You say and she gives you a wink before she walks out the door. You smiled to yourself before covering up with her blazer. You nuzzle it up to your nose since it’s smells like her and fall into a deep sleep.

A/n: hehe I hope y’all enjoy and I hope @bilswildflower this is what you wanted! Remember my requests are still open for Melanie Martinez, billie eilish, and my other characters I write for. Remember to stay hydrated and that I love you! And this fic is also for @billiesbabygirl

Tag list: @mxqdii

#billie elish icons #billie ellish lyrics #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x y/n #billie elish moodboard #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish smut #billie eilish #daddy!billie eilish #daddy!billieeilish #mommy!billieeilish #wlw

[tulip-room]

"You're late" "I know...I'm sorry."

Pairing: Sakusa x Reader

Words: 3k

Content: Sakusa falls out of love with you. You realize it too no matter how much he would like to pretend you don't. Eventually he realizes he was just scared. Hopefully he isn't too late.

a/n: I wrote this because my lovely mutual @hiraethwa asked me for it. I of course had to take the chance to write angst. As you can see I didn't stop myself and it's a bit longer than my stories usually are. I hope you guys enjoy it!

It’s almost poetic that the things that made you fall in love with someone are the same reasons you fall out of love with them. Their passion for their job turns into fights about not making time for each other. Their cleanliness turns into fights about how you don’t do the dishes properly. Them speaking their mind turns into hurtful words that neither can take back. Things that with the right communication wouldn’t be so bad. But that was another bad habit the two of you had.

Not talking to each other after getting mad. You were always the one to “fix” it though. Putting a bandaid on a broken glass never gets rid of the crack though. 

Sakusa thinks these are the sorts of things that force him to take off his rose tinted glasses, ones that had turned muddy and foggy, and look at you. You leaving the dishes overnight in the sink because work was so exhausting now made him upset. He was exhausted when he got home but still managed to clean up after himself. You drooling in your sleep used to be cute but now all he can think of is how disgusting he feels. 

You disgust him. 

He used to let you lay up against him because your touch used to bring him comfort. Now it makes his skin crawl. 

You’re not blind. You can see the way he has started to recoil when he thinks you’re going to touch him. The walls of your home have started to lose their warmth. The blankets not holding in their warmth like they used to. You shiver even when the house is set to 80. Sakusa’s cold gaze makes icicles go down your back. The same brown eyes you used to love. The same eyes that used to look at you like you hung the stars. 

The hands that used to hold you now sit close to his body. The lips that used to kiss yours when he arrived home are gone. He thinks you don’t notice. He thinks that you can’t see how he forces himself to hold your hand in public. He doesn’t want his friends to see what he’s become.

A man who is no longer in love with you. You who used to be the light of his life. His friends aren’t stupid. He would like to think they are but they see what’s going on. They see as your skin turns paler. How your lips are always chapped and broken from biting on them. It’s at dinner that one of them notices the first petal. 

The forsaken petals. Komori wants to write it off as just a stray petal from outside that got caught in your hair. He knows better. And so do you. You know what’s going to happen to you. You’ve started wearing hats. 

It’s the petals that also spur on your next fight. 

“They’re everywhere! Where do they keep coming from?” Sakusa says as he picks up another flower petal that was sitting upon the couch. “You need to stop bringing them in here from wherever you’re getting them.” He never yells but his words hit just the same. It was your fault. It wasn’t his fault that he saw what you really were. Just someone who had managed to get him to fall in love with them. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Afterall, bandaids don’t fix breaks in glass, liquid still spills. 

Here was the result of using bandaids to fix things that are broken. Sakusa was still none the wiser of what was going on. You had gotten better at hiding the petals. You had begun placing them in bags. You almost had done something that would’ve been truly evil. You had almost labelled the bags “What is left of me” and left while he was at work. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave no matter how badly you needed to. You loved him. 

Love really is a fickle thing. Someone who you used to spend every minute with could become a stranger to you again in less than a week. Sakusa felt like a stranger with a familiar face. The man you loved no longer loved you. You weren’t entirely sure how much longer you had left. It could be days. It could be weeks. You just knew that eventually there wouldn't be a you to come back to. 

It seemed everyone but him had realized what was happening. Komori had enough of it. You still had your lunches, it was Komori who had introduced you two afterall. He was still your best friend. He still cared for you. He was sure Sakusa did too. “He just needs some sense knocked into him.” or “Give him another chance, I’ve never seen him love someone as much as he lov-loves you.” Komori had almost messed up during that sentence. He almost said ‘loved’. 

He couldn’t see his best friend destroy themselves like this anymore. That night he took Sakusa out for dinner. They were going to talk about it until Sakusa realized he did still love you. He was going to realize that you were still the love of his life. 

“What happened.”

“What?”

“What could they have possibly done to deserve what you’re doing to them?”

“Y/N?” He rolls his eyes and sighs. “What am I doing to them?” 

“They’re dying.” Simple and to the point. “They’re dying and it’s because of you.”

He scoffs. “What are you on about? They’re perfectly fine.”

“No. They’re not. They’re dying. Why don’t you love them anymore? Tell me why.” Komori looks at Sakusa in a serious way. He would answer this question. 

“I don’t know. They’re annoying. The things I used to find charming aren’t anymore. They never do the dishes, we’re always fighting and they try to ``fix” it-” he puts quotes around the world. “Taping up a broken window doesn’t mean it never broke.”

Komori shakes his head. “They annoy you? That’s what caused you to decide you don’t love them anymore? You realize it takes two people to break and fix a relationship.” Him saying that made Sakusa roll his eyes again. He looked out the window. He was starting to tune his cousin out. 

Sakusa wasn’t the problem here. It was that you were too demanding. You were too much. You always wanted more. Volleyball season started up again so he couldn’t have as many dates with you. He thought you would be used to it by now. You had been fine with it for the past few years. Why the sudden change now? He thinks back.

The first year of you two being together was perfect. The two of you had communicated what you needed and what you expected. The first time he had missed a date he had texted you not even five minutes later letting you know the situation and that he would try better next time. By the third week of this happening you had learned he wasn’t able to focus on two things at once. Or more accurately he couldn’t focus on you and volleyball. That was fine. You can’t expect to be the center of his universe all the time. He always abologized for the dates he did miss. Once volleyball season was over you found that he was all yours again. 

By year two you hoped it would be different. It wasn’t. Once again it started out fine. Text messages to let you know he wouldn’t be able to make it. You still weren’t upset enough to really fight about it yet though. He would bring you gifts the next day to apologize. A kiss and a sorry attached to whatever gadget he had gotten you. 

By year three the gifts made you angry. He had time to go out and get a gift but not enough time to show up for one date? He was tired, you would tell yourself. It’s not you, he’s just busy. Maybe you’re lazy. Maybe you’re the problem. Maybe he just didn’t want to be around someone as needy as you. Who would to be honest? This was the year you had finally brought it up to him. A mistake. 

“I can’t do this Kiyoomi.”

“Can’t do what?” “This. I know that volleyball is important to you but I want to feel important too.” You pleaded with him.

“You are. I’m here right now aren’t I? Let’s go on a date now.” He sighed and he turned off the TV and started getting up.

It was no use. He wasn’t going to understand. You still felt like an afterthought. You didn’t think it would ever change. What was the point of it all? Maybe you should just leave. Maybe then you could find someone who would make you feel like you were enough. 

This was also the year you downloaded a dating app. You couldn’t bring yourself to actually ever open it though. No matter how insignificant you felt you would never do this to him. You couldn’t live with yourself if you did this. 

The app was deleted almost as quickly as it had finished downloading. 

Maybe what he really needed was just more. More than you had. Someone who was able to understand his love for volleyball. That it was his love first and it would be his last as well. No matter. In a few more months he would be yours again. In a few more months he would act like nothing had ever happened. In a few more months he would apologize with gifts that made your stomach churn and with sweet words that left a bad taste in your mouth. 

Year four. This year. This was the year that he hadn’t come back to you. The year he hadn’t returned to being your sweet wonderful boyfriend. You had waited until after volleyball season to plan a date but he had gotten so used to not having them that he had forgotten. He had forgotten about dinner and he had forgotten about you. He hadn’t even come home that night. You were sure he hadn’t because the dishes were still in the sink. If he had come home he would have done them and then told you off. 

You waited for three hours before you got the notification. It was from one of his teammates. More specifically that they had posted to their story. You opened it and there he was. In the background drinking with the rest of them. He had left you to go drink. Something he doesn’t like to do. Something he obviously liked better than you. 

Your mother had called you the next day to ask if she should start wedding preparations. You didn’t have the heart to tell her your worries. You just laughed with her and told her to hold off for a little longer. You were sure it would be soon. That’s what you told her. 

Now you were dreading the message that she would have to make a different kind of preparation. A funeral. You didn’t understand how someone could do this. How he could go from caring and sweet to cold and distant so quickly. You didn’t know when you had started to feel numb instead of sad. How the cold eyes that would turn to you stopped making you shiver. 

You didn’t know when you had stopped crying. At some point the tears had stopped and your breathing stopped being labored. 

Maybe the change wasn’t as sudden as he originally thought. Maybe he just hadn’t noticed the change until it had already happened. How you stopped planning dates. How you stopped holding his hand as tight. Your eyes had changed. They were once so full of trust and love. Now they were dull. You still held love for him in your eyes, he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was just a joke. 

He needed to rethink everything now. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He thinks about everything. Why did he start loving you in the first place? 

He loved how you always surprised him. That you challenged him to be better. You didn’t let him off easy just because you liked him. Sure Komori was the one who introduced you but you were the one who chased him. It seems like you never stopped. Now he was even further away than he had started. 

Nothing more than a stranger who knew your secrets. A person you loved but had changed and not in a way that included you. He thought about why he had started dating you.

Because you were good for him. At some point he softened. He allowed room in his life for another person. One who could see his ups and downs. Because around you he felt safe. He felt loved and he discovered he wanted you to feel that way around him too. He wanted to provide you with safety. He wanted you to feel loved. He wanted you to feel like you were always enough for him. 

He shakes his head. Funny way of showing it. He had done nothing but put you off since that first year. You had been nothing but supportive. You had understood when he had to miss a date because of practice. Except he didn’t have to miss those dates. He chose to. Every time he missed one was of his own accord. He realized he hadn’t thought of it as important enough. He hadn’t thought of you as important enough. 

How could he have been this cruel? He didn’t think of himself as cruel before this moment. He hadn’t really thought about it. He thought it was for the best that he pushed you away until you finally left. He thought it would be too much work to break it off with you from the start. He knows now that you hadn’t gone away. He had. He was the one who had started every fight. The one who hadn’t communicated his feelings and had outright ignored yours. 

He thought about why he didn’t love you anymore. 

Because you left dishes in the sink? Was that the best he could come up with? He knew why he decided he didn’t love you anymore. Because you made him feel. You made him afraid. You made him feel so safe that he was in a constant state of waiting for it to end.

If he pushed you away first you couldn’t do the same to him. If he decided he didn’t love you anymore it wouldn’t hurt when you did finally leave. He was scared that you would leave. He didn’t love you because he was scared you would leave. Now that it’s laid out in front of him he sees how stupid he was. He still has one more realization though. 

You were dying. 

Those flower petals he had gotten mad about. They weren’t just flower petals. They were the cause of your death. And from the amount of them there had been a week ago, you didn’t have much time left. Suddenly he wasn’t so calm. How could he be? The person he loved was going to die. And it was his fault. You were going to die because you thought the same thing he had. That he didn’t love you anymore. 

He looked towards Komori with wide eyes. “I think I still love Y/N.” 

“You think?”

Sakusa takes a breath. “I’m in love with Y/N.”

“Go tell them that before you’re too late.” 

Sakusa gets up from the table and runs to get a taxi. 

You’re laying in your bed. Numb. You laugh bitterly. Right up until the end you loved him. You gave him all of you. How inconsiderate of you to leave such a mess for him to pick up. The same petals that he had just gotten upset over were the petals of the same flower he had gotten you for your first date. The same flowers that started your love were going to finish them. 

Sakusa was starting to get desperate. He didn’t deserve you anymore but he was going to spend the rest of his life trying to mend what he had broken if that’s what it took. You weren’t picking up your phone. “Come on. Pick up. Please, pick up.”

The phone was ringing beside you but you didn’t have the energy to reach it. You barely had the energy to keep your eyes open anymore.

Sakusa bursts through the door. His breath is uneven and rapid. He scans the room and sees you nowhere in sight. He looks down and follows the trail of flowers leading to your room. He felt like it was only your room as he rarely slept there anymore. He opens the door and races to your bedside. 

He grabs your hand and tries to catch his breath. “Y/N. Please. Open your eyes. I’m so sorry.”

Nothing. 

“Please. I love you. I know I don’t deserve to say that but I do. You deserve so much better than what I have given you. You deserve so much better than I can give you. But I love you. I’m sorry I was so blind before. I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you because now I know what it feels like to not have you and it made me feel so empty. I know I’m being so selfish. I don’t deserve you. You. Beautiful you who lights up every room they’re in. You who loved me even though I only kept hurting you. Please Y/N. Open your eyes. I need you. I need you and I’m sorry that I didn’t realize it sooner.” He’s crying now. He doesn’t deserve to shed tears over you because he’s the reason you’re like this. But he does. He holds your hand and he  cries. 

“You’re late.” A dry, broken voice calls out. His head snaps up. There are those eyes you love so much. 

“I know…I’m sorry.”

“I can’t forgive you yet.”

“I know.”

“I hate you for what you did.” “I know.”

“But I still love you. Please. Just. Love me better this time?”

“I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving that I love you. Even if you don’t fully forgive me for what I’ve done. I will love you and prove it to you everyday. I promise.”

taglist: @hiraethwa @sanaexus

masterlist

rules

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #tulip writes #hq x reader #haikyuu x y/n #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x gn!reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa angst #hq angst #haikyuu angst #haikyu angst

[livingformintyoongi]

Jungkook eating her gf out by the pool while she's laying on the lounger and enjoying the sun because he's so pussy whipped he just can't control himself

Summer Days

a/n: It was so hard to start writing this because the description was too vague AH- for the anon who asked for this, I hope it was what you were looking for, I tried to do the best I could 😣. wc: 1.4k taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss

“What's wrong?” you muttered under your breath, feeling your boyfriend pierce your profile with his gaze. You didn't bother to look at him, mostly because you didn't think what he wanted to ask you was something that warranted it. You loved your boyfriend, but you had waited too long to get to this part of your book, you couldn't stop now.

“Uhm, I was just thinking... you look very pretty today” he nodded quickly, stirring in his lounger, “I haven't seen you in that swimsuit before, it's beautiful.”

You nodded silently, pushing your sunglasses up the bridge of your nose, your attention still completely on your book, “I bought it recently, Soyeon saw it on sale and thought it would look good on me, so she bought it.” You turned the page, watching out of the corner of your eye as Jungkook awkwardly got up from his lounger and approached you. For a second you turned to watch him, following his every move as he sat down across from you, using your lounger as a seat. 

“Hey, can I ask you a strange question?” he said softly, resting his hand on your thigh and caressing your soft skin so gently that even you were surprised. Jungkook's touch was firm most of the time, indeed, you were very likely to feel his large hands land on some part of your body and give it a gentle but firm squeeze, never so light and delicate. 

You set your book down resting on your abdomen, lifting your sunglasses so you could get a better look at your boyfriend, “Sure, go ahead.” You noticed how his hand slowly made its way up to your inner thigh, his cheeks were slightly pink, but you had no idea if it was due to the strong sun today or if it was out of embarrassment.

“Can I eat you?” he lifted his gaze from your legs to your face, giving you the most depressing and tender lamb eyes possible, just the ones he always gave you when he wanted something from you. He knew perfectly well that they were your weakness, and he was more than willing to use it against you. 

“Here?” you laughed under your breath, looking around. You weren't in a public place, your boyfriend was lucky enough to have a medium sized pool in the backyard of his house, which to his luck had a fairly large wall that kept out the prying eyes of nosy people, but that didn't take away from the fact that you were still in an open place, and in the middle of the day to boot. 

“I promise I'll be quick, before you know it you'll be cumming on my tongue, I swear” he hastened to say, swinging his leg up and down. He watched your every expression, trying to see what your response would be and praying it would be positive.

“Okay, but don't even think I'll clean the deck chair” you sighed, putting your sunglasses back down and opened the book to the page you were left with. You knew well that Jungkook cared little and nothing about you putting all his attention on him when he licked your pussy, he always seemed to be so immersed in his own world when he did it.

“Yes!” he nodded quickly, settling quickly between your legs, letting them rest on his shoulders. His fingers gently removed the cool fabric from your skin. He had no plans to fuck, so he just pushed it aside, watching your intimacy intently as he licked his lips.

He kissed your inner thighs with utmost care, each kiss he gave was a kiss closer to your center, the place he wanted, no, needed to get to in order to continue his quiet day. His teeth gently tugged at your sensitive skin, causing you to stir from the lounger. From your position you had been able to feel his shit-eating grin as he saw your reaction.

You felt an electric current run up and down your spine the moment Jungkook ran his tongue along your slit slowly but firmly. You both let out a moan at the contact. “You taste so good...I don't think I can get over it” he laughed softly, kissing every bit of skin he could find. His fingers itched with the need he felt to get at least one inside you.

You brought one of your hands to his hair, stroking from it as Jungkook's kisses became increasingly messy and sloppy, slowly disturbing your breathing and the tingling in your lower stomach. 

He blew gently on your entrance, bringing his fingers to it so he could open it, plunging his tongue inside you. Jungkook had to hold your hips to keep them from lifting off the lounger, grunting against your pussy as he felt your fingers tugging at his hair. 

“Shit, so soon? You're seriously desperate” you muttered, letting your head fall back as your boyfriend moved his tongue inside you, touching just the spots he knew would provoke a reaction in your body. 

Jungkook completely ignored your comment, focusing solely on the sensation of your pussy enveloping his tongue tightly. He used one of his hands to hold your hips still while the other settled over your clit and gave it the attention he knew you loved. 

He wasn't wrong at all. 

Your back hunched slightly and your breathing became even more agitated. By this point your book had fallen to the side and you didn't even remember clearly what you read last, but you didn't mind at all, your boyfriend was making up for it in the best way.

You frowned as you felt his tongue slowly leave your insides and his fingers move away from your clit. You lowered your gaze to him, not quite understanding what he was planning to do.

He brushed the hair out of your eyes, wiping your chin with the back of his hand. His gaze never left your pussy, and you could feel from your place how he wanted to continue what he was doing. He gave you one last look before moving back down, but this time it was his mouth that started to play with your clit, causing your whole body to shudder. You had to cling to his hair to keep from losing your mind.

“Fuck” you moaned softly, too stunned to be able to say a full sentence. On his side, Jungkook was more than happy to suck and bite that little button he loved so much. He circled it with licks, bit it, pulled it with his teeth and sucked on it until his very lips felt numb, and it was only then that he decided to stick two of his fingers inside you, curving them right where he knew your G-spot was. His body trembled with pleasure as he heard you moan his name.

“You're squeezing my fingers pretty hard, are you going to cum yet?” he laughed teasingly, moving his fingers inside you faster than before, opening them once they were deeper inside you, he regretted teasing you the instant he felt you pull his hair so hard he feared you were going to pull a strand out of his head.

“Shit, shit, shit” you groaned through your teeth, futilely trying to push Jungkook away from your pussy, but he obviously wasn't going to allow that. He clung to your hips as if his life depended on it, trying to take every last drop of your cum, and even when you were done, he spent at least a minute giving little licks along your pussy until he was completely satisfied.

“I told you I wouldn't be long at all” he smiled proudly at you, wiping his chin awkwardly.

You rolled your eyes, fixing your swimsuit and getting up as best you could from the chair. Jungkook had to help you to another lounger due to the strong trembling of your legs, “Next time try to do it when I’m not busy, disrespectful” you laughed under your breath, letting your weight fall on the lounger.  

“Whatever the lady of the house says” he replied teasingly, leaning back next to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and settling his head on your chest, ready to take a nap in your arms, with one of your hands in his hair and the other on your book.

Masterlist

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts x y/n #fanfic #bts x fem!reader #bts x oc #fiction #jungkook x original character #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook fanfic

[mamisfavmosher]

Hi can you write poly judgement day x alt s/o where they got to a haunted house together and they have fun until she gets hit on by scare actors and they get possessive and she has to tell them she’s only there’s please and ps love your poly fics sm 💕

y'all this is so overdue, i'm so sorry

four haunts // poly!judgment day x fem!alt!reader

warnings: language, kinda gory scene?, haunted house with scare actors

Also, JD McDonagh is not in this... NOT PROOFREAD

Readers POV

Not too long ago, Dominik had discovered some type of year long haunted house and wanted to go, so on our day off we decided to head over and see how it went. When we pulled up to the attraction, it wasn't too busy, maybe two or three other cars beside ours. We all piled out of Rhea's truck and began walking toward the entrance, excited to see if it would actually be scary or not. "This better be good, Dom," Rhea sighed out with a small chuckle, throwing her keys in her bag before hooking an arm around Dom's neck. "Since you made me drive 40 minutes to get here." "It's gonna be great, don't worry, Mami." Dom responded back before looking at the worn down attraction with apprehension. "...I think." I let out a laugh and started running toward the entrance of the house, excited to see what was inside. "C'mon, guys!" I called back to them before stepping into the house. "Babygirl, slow down!" I heard Damian yell out to me, but I was already inside the house, walking down a hallway.

I smiled as I felt my fear and adrenaline begin to pump through my veins. The house seemed to be pretty spooky so far with fake blood splattered on the walls, creaky floorboards, flickering lights, and gross odors wafting through the air. My four partners filed in through the door before catching up with me.

"Let's start with this room." Finn said before grabbing my hand and leading me into the first room on our left. It seemed to be decorated as some type of surgical room. As soon as we were all in the room, the door shut behind us. "Uh... what's going on?" I asked the rest of them quietly, waiting for some type of jump scare.

"No idea, but this place is wack-" Dom cut himself off by his own scream as someone in a creepy surgeon costume jumped out at him. The rest of us jumped a bit as well before cackling a bit at Dom's scream. "Nice one, Dom Dom." Damian chuckled out and ruffled Dom's hair a bit. All of a sudden, the creepy surgeon started coming towards me, reaching out a hand like he was going to touch me. I didn't freak out, though. It was one of the rules posted out front that the actors wouldn't touch you. Till he did. Then I started freaking out a bit.

"Hey, cut it out! I thought they weren't allowed to touch us!" I said with annoyance while slapping his hand off of me.

"Get the hell away from her!" Rhea moved to stand next to me, putting her arm out in front of me as a form of protection against the scare actor. He silently put his hands up in surrender before creeping back into the closet he popped out of. The door to the room opened back up and we quickly filed out to visit a different room. "If any of those creeps try something again, we're leaving." Rhea said in a strict tone, leaving no room for arguments.

The next room we entered was a dining room, a gross, rotting feast displayed on top of the table. Finn let out a quiet gagging noise before we proceeded further into the room.

"Take a seat!" Yelled out a scare actor who was dressed as a half-dead butler. We all hesitated for a moment before begrudgingly sitting down at the disgusting table. A crazed looking chef walked through the entrance to the room straight over to me. As soon as I looked up at him, I could tell it was the same scare actor that played the creepy surgeon. He beelined over to me and immediately put his hands on my chair to try and scoot me in further before he brought his hands up to rest on my shoulders.

"Man, you're not gonna keep doing this!" Damian said angrily as he stood up from the chair beside me. The scare actor quickly backed off a bit, but took a step closer to me and dropped a napkin in front of me before walking back out the door.

I cautiously picked up the napkin to inspect it, immediately spotting a phone number written on it in fake blood. I threw it off into the center of the table in disgust and Dom picked it up to look at it, Rhea and Finn peering over his shoulders.

"Oh hell no!" Rhea said in a furious tone, standing up from her chair and beginning to march out of the room.

"Rhea, wait!" I called out, running after her, but Damian pulled me back and ran after Rhea himself, no doubt having the same intentions as her.

Rhea and Damian stormed after the scare actor as he rushed down the hall. They both yelled a few threats out to him before Finn, Dom, and I caught up to them, pulling them back towards us.

"Let's get out of here before these two rip that dude to shreds." Finn said while grabbing both Rhea and Damian by their elbows and dragging them towards the front door. We quickly made it outside of the haunted house and we forced the two furious, raging members of the Judgment Day back into Rhea's truck.

"Guys, just calm down... it's fine. Really." I said in a soft voice in hopes of them calming down just a bit. They were fired up and angry.

"Baby, if you think for a second that we're not gonna put up a fight when some creep tries to give you his number, then I'm sorry, honey, but you're dead wrong." Damian muttered under breath, practically fuming in the passenger seat.

"I'm not saying I don't appreciate you defending me, but maybe you guys shouldn't go around threatening people's lives?" I questioned with a small smile, reaching my hands out to gently rest on their shoulders.

"Sweetheart, it's kinda our job. We gotta make sure you're safe and protected at all times." Rhea countered back with a smirk. I let out a sigh and playfully shook my head at their mutterings.

"Whatever. I love you guys. Thanks for keeping me safe and protected." I laughed a bit and relaxed into the back seats of the truck while Rhea drove us home, Dom and Finn on either side of me keeping a protective hand on me the whole way.

#rhea ripley #wwe #the judgement day #damian priest #dominik mysterio #wwe superstars #finn balor #fanfiction #rhea ripley x reader #dominik mysterio x reader #damian priest x reader #finn balor x reader #the judgment day x reader #poly!judgment day #wwe x

[tenjikufag]

Do you write for hsr? Can I ask for aventurine x tall top male reader? The reader is 6' 3" tall and he just can easily pick it up like 😩 If possible, I would like nsfw, but in any case, have a nice day! <3

Winner.

Aventurine x Tall!Male Reader

-smut, size difference, dom!top reader, general nsfw warning

-thank you for the request~

Aventurine was an average guy, extravagant but incredibly average at the same time.

He was know for being quite a reckless but skilled gambler, also known for his sturdy and quite intimidating tall partner and body guard, you.

You stood quite a bit taller than him, his blonde head only meeting just under your shoulders. Despite his cocky demeanour getting him in quite the.. situation at times, it was easily settled with your intimidating stature always leering over his shoulder.

And he loved it.

He adored you not only for being quite an attractive guard dog, but also how you manhandled him behind the scenes.

Just like now.

He clung to your torso and laid his chin on your shoulder, feeling the tickle of your fingers thrumming on his thighs as you carried him back to your hotel room. Well, it was basically an apartment at this point. You carried him as if he weighed nothing, securely attached like a child.. it made him excited if he had to admit..

“I’m putting you down.”

You gently placed him on his feet despite him huffing in disapproval, crossing his arms with pursed lips as you swiped the keycard to your room.

Soon as the door closed, his slim arms wrapped around your waist

“Why not reward me for the big jackpot I got for us~”

He shivered under your gaze when you looked down at him, knowing he’d piqued your interest.

A winner gets all the spoils, right?

He’s greedy, he wanted it all.

—

Aventurine whimpered, your large hands gripping his waist tightly- surely leaving a mark from every finger. Your cock was deeply buried into his ass, drilling into him at a speed that made his vision white; his head lulling against the wall you pinned him against. The males body was held up high against the wall to meet your waist and yet he could barely reach your face to kiss.

Tears welled in his eyes when your hand met his pathetic dick and started pumping it, spreading his precum all over his shaft.

You held him up with one arm and it drove him crazy, the helplessness and no opportunity to get away from the abuse his ass was getting almost made him cum immediately.

“Y-you’re too big! Slow down! Fuck!”

Biting down on his neck, he yelped and scratched at your back trying to keep his body from trembling.

“This is what you wanted though, all the spoils? You’re a winner, baby.. is your prize too big to claim?”

Grunting, you thrusted up into him, making sure to hit his prostate with every harsh singular thrust.

The male continued to gasp and moan, stupidly nodding his head at every word you said.

“Is.. too much..”

He pat your shoulder, pulling out and putting him down he fell to his knees and leaned his face onto your thigh.

“Is.. is there any other way to claim my prize?”

He huffed, his tongue trailed up your thigh and the side of his face brushed against your dick.. smirking down at him, you roughly grabbed a handful of his hair.

“Claim it however you want.”

Delicate, soft, and unworked hands pumped your dick desperately and guided it into his warm mouth. He choked on it, mix of his spit and your precum bubbling at the corners of his mouth.

Greedily he chased for your load, but you pulled him off and picked him up with ease. Throwing him onto the bed, his small body bounced against it before being pressed deep into the sheets by your weight, entering him again and making him cry out.

He bit his lip trying to keep himself from drooling, from this angle he was filled to the brim and his walls clenched on your dick greedily- your grunts like music to his ears as his eyes rolled back and he came.

Gasping again, before he could catch his breathe you flipped him on top, making him ride you.. his legs barely held him up but that was no problem- you easily picked him up from the waist and lifted him up and down on your dick, a glorified flashlight to you at this point.

Aventurine moaned endlessly, being manhandled was his biggest turn on and he was working on cumming again pretty fast.

“You want the bonus? Are you greedy enough for it?”

You felt the knot coming untied in yourself, only needing the pathetic squeak of approval from the male to blow your load deep in his ass. As soon as he felt the warm cum in his ass he pathetically came on himself and almost fell over if it weren’t for you catching him.

As the two of you caught your breathe, you gently picked him up and packed him to the bathroom to wash him up. In your arms, his lids became heavy and the warmth, the security and safety he felt in your grasp was enough for him to be lulled asleep as the bath filled up.

#aventurine x reader #Aventurine x male reader #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #honkai star rail x male reader #honkai star rail x reader

[flemingsfreckles]

Physio’s Daughter Part 11 (18+)

Read the rest of the series here!

Warnings: smut! fingering (r receiving and giving), oral sex (r giving and receiving), minimal dirty talk, a little accidental overstimulation, marking, it’s a little awkward so if that isn’t your vibe that’s fine, cursing

WC: 8.1k (I know, it got out of hand)

A/N: I HAVE A LOT TO SAY!

If you are reading this series but aren’t one for smut, feel free to skip this chapter. There is nothing super instrumental to the plot happening here besides the physical relationship. Anything plot related will be reiterated and explained in Part 12 so that anyone who doesn’t wish to read this content doesn’t feel lost by skipping it.

Also I’ve mentioned this before, this is not typical hot/heavy/wildest fantasy smut, I wrote this more realistic, it’s a little awkward at points, but I liked writing it this way for this story. Basically, if you’re reading smut just to get off this probably isn’t it, feel free to read my other smut

The walk back to the hotel was relatively quiet. You weren’t able to tell what was running through Jessie’s mind but yours was all over the place.

A sudden feeling of uncertainty was running through your body. You’d had done this before, a few times with a “situationship” you found yourself in your first year of university, and then a few times with drunken flings that you found at the college bar, nothing with much feeling behind it. This felt more serious than that, this was more serious than that. This was Jessie. This wasn’t a drunken decision, this was something you’d wanted for months now.

On top of those nerves came a feeling of inadequacy. She was a professional athlete. She had defined muscles, toned legs, a toned core. She had a cardio stamina a hundred times better than yours. You were just average in comparison. Your job kept you on your feet and moving around but not nearly in as good of shape as Jessie was. The nerves had you keeping your eyes on the ground ahead of you, your hands if not already occupied with the picnic basket would’ve been fidgeting with your shirt or picking at your skin.

At the same time the nerves came with an overwhelming feeling of excitement. This was Jessie. She wanted to sleep with you just as much as you wanted to sleep with her.

The second the door clicks behind the two of you Jessie has you pressed up against it. It’s reminiscent of your first kiss, up against the wall of your office. Only this time it could go as far as you both wanted. There was no risk of someone walking in, the two of you being caught, and you were ready to take advantage of that.

Putting your hands on Jessie’s waist you gingerly begin to push her backward. Much to your dismay, Jessie takes her lips off of yours and steps back.

“Sorry.” She’s quick to apologize, your hands still on her waist.

A whine of frustration almost comes out, you clear your throat and question her. “Why?”

“If that was a lot, I came on a little hard there.” Her hands wave rapidly in the space between the two of you.

“It wasn’t too much.”

“I just figured since you pushed me off.” Her thought trails off. You didn’t want her off of you.

“I wasn’t pushing you off Jessie, I was trying to push you toward the bed.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You point at the bed over her shoulder and she turns to look at it as if she didn’t know it existed.

“Well in that case, can I kiss you again?” You barely nod before Jessie is coming toward you, her hands coming to your face. One of her hands finds the back of your head, preventing you from bumping your head into the door as her body comes up against yours.

This time when your hands push on Jessie’s hips she steps backwards but doesn’t break your kiss. The two of you make your way to the bed carefully, your hands pushing her as she takes cautious steps backward. You get a step away from the bed and lighten the pressure on her hips.

She quickly climbs onto the bed, kneeling before turning back to kiss you as she kneeled up to your height. Her arms reach for you and she pulls you toward the bed. You join her kneeling onto the mattress for a moment before Jessie breaks your kiss and situates herself on the bed. Her hand reaches, clutching the collar of your shirt, pulling you down. Practically falling on her you just barely catch yourself before your face collides with hers.

Ignoring the fact that you both almost had broken you noses against each other, you kiss her hard again. It doesn’t take long for Jessie’s hands to wander. They’re on your shoulders, then running down your sides, she moves them to gently grip your ass, pulling you toward her. She’s caressing every inch of you that she can reach. You want to do the same but your hands are the only thing keeping you from crushing the woman below you.

Her hands then find their way to your chest and now it’s her pushing you back. You break the kiss this time, sitting back to put your weight on your knees.

“Take my shirt off.” Jessie says, breathlessly. Part of you felt like you were in a dream, this was happening, actually happening. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamt of the midfielder like this before, below you, her hands on you and yours on her, those dreams never lasted too long but you always woke up with your heart racing, just as it was doing now.

“Are you sure?” You say with your hands inches from grasping Jessie’s shirt.

“Yeah I’m sure.” She looks up at you. You can’t help but get lost in her eyes for a moment. You get distracted, leaving your hands frozen reaching out toward Jessie. The way she was looking up at you was intoxicating, her eyes soft a small ring of brown surrounding her wide pupils, you could look into them forever.

“Are you okay? You’ve done this before right?” Jessie’s words break you from your gaze.

“Sex? Yes, I have! Oh my god am I that bad?” You were ready for the floor to open up and swallow you. Mortified that Jessie was under the impression that you had never done this before, that you were clueless.

“No! No, nothings been bad, we’ve barely done anything, it's just you seem pretty nervous,” she pauses before pointing to your hands. “Your hands are shaking.” They were, you knew they were, you just thought maybe you had gotten away without Jessie noticing.

“Just a little nervous.”

“I thought I didn’t make you nervous?” Jessie’s cocky smile is able to put some of your nerves to rest.

“Usually you don’t, but yeah, this is making me a little bit nervous I guess.” Finding a sudden interest in the wall color, you keep your eyes fixated there, avoiding Jessie’s stare up at you. Now you were even more nervous, thanks to her comment.

“We don’t have to do this, if you’d rather wait or just not.”

“No!” Now you’re looking back down at her. She looks at you funny, you realize it maybe sounded like you were saying you didn’t want to. “I mean yes, I want to, I want to have sex, the nerves aren’t bad nerves, it’s just a little adrenaline I think, plus I don’t want to embarrass myself because I really like you. Although at this rate it seems I already have embarrassed myself.” You barely breathe between your sentences, rushing them out to try and limit the embarrassment you’re already feeling. You planned on being red in the face and a little sweaty when this was all done not before you even had your clothes off.

“Sorry I really didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Jessie’s thumbs rub comforting circles on your thighs.

“I’m good.” You were good, incredibly embarrassed, but good.

“Good.”

You curl your lips in biting them between your own teeth and just look at her.

You could get lost in her eyes all over again. The brown color, you never knew why people complained about brown eyes, they were warm, inviting, you loved looking at Jessie’s eyes. Jessie was expressive with her eyes too, it told you a lot about her feelings. Right now her eyes were a mix of lust and a small bit apologetic.

“I really didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed, I promise it’s been good so far. Plus I’m a tiny bit nervous too.” She looks down for a minute then back up to you. “Its an excited nervous and also just regular nervous, because I really, really like you too and I don’t want to mess this up, but I haven’t,” Jessie clears her throat diverting her eyes to a spot on the ceiling, “It’s just been a while since I’ve done anything with anyone.”

“Worried it’s been so long they’ve changed the fundamentals of sex?” You can’t help but crack the joke to her.

“Hey,” she playfully shoves you, “I didn’t poke too much fun at your nerves.”

“Right, I’m sorry. While we’re airing out everything, it’s been a while for me too, a year, at least.” You think maybe expressing your own lack of recent formication will ease Jessie’s nerves.

“Well then we’re in a similar boat.”

“So if they’ve changed it neither of us will know.” You shrug at her.

“Just come here.” Jessie says before she doesn’t give you a choice, her hand grabs a fistful of your shirt again and pulls you back down to her. Before your lips touch she looks you in the eye before whispering “Kiss me until your nerves are gone.”

You do just that. You bring your lips to Jessie’s, kissing her softly a couple of times, just a few pecks. Her hand remains on your thigh, the other running through your hair. Her thumb still gently rubs circles on your thigh, a soothing and grounding feeling. Her hand squeezes ever so slightly as you open your lips against hers and her hand in her hair pushes you closer to her. Kissing Jessie lets your mind go blank. You become engulfed in the feeling of her lips on yours, you’re no longer caught up in the nerves and overthinking.

The two of you stay kissing for a couple minutes Jessie’s hands finding their way to your waist, her fingers teasing at the skin under your shirt. You pull away finally, pressing yourself up using your hands on either side of Jessie’s head. She smiles up at you, her hair is messy, as you're sure yours is as well from her hand running through it. Jessie’s fingers continue to gently stroke your skin mindlessly as you two look at each other.

“You can take off my shirt, if you want.” You offer, knowing Jessie probably wouldn’t make the move to take it off of you without you asking. Her fingers are quick to grab the bottom of your shirt before pulling upward. Jessie being below you gives her an awkward angle trying to pull your shirt off meaning it gets caught on your elbow on one arm and on your head. It causes you to laugh as you’re sitting in Jessie’s lap, shirt stuck over your head, you can feel her let out a quick laugh, her stomach tensing beneath you.

“Here, I’ll get it.” You feel Jessie’s hands let go of the shirt. You maneuver it quickly before ridding yourself of the shirt, tossing it to the floor.

“Sorry that was really not smooth.”

“It’s fine Jessie.” You bend down kissing her again and your hands now find the bottom of her shirt, finishing the action you had planned to do many minutes ago. “Can I?”

“Yeah, let me sit up.” You put your weight onto your knees instead of Jessie’s lap, allowing her to scoot herself up to sit. She taps your hips once she’s sitting up, “Sit back down.” You do, now sitting more on her thighs than her waist. She sticks her arms up and you slowly pull her shirt up and over, tossing it in the same direction as yours.

Jessie’s eyes trail from your face down to your bra and down your waist, her hands find their place on your shoulders where your bra straps sit. You noticed her fingers, again making small movements, tracing soothing patterns into your skin. She leaned forward putting her lips below her hand, kissing your collarbone. She placed a line of kisses across the prominent bone before switching to give attention to the other side.

Her lips then found their way up your neck, those kisses more intense, open mouthed, her tongue running over your skin, making goosebumps appear across all of your exposed skin. You let the breath out of your chest and your eyes flutter shut as you feel her suck slightly just above the base of your neck.

She pulls back, “good?”

“Mhmm.” You hum before pushing her neck gently back in the direction of where her lips had just been. She obliges, reconnecting with your neck and sucking harder as you encourage her, your hand pressing her into your neck.

She pulls away a minute later and you open your eyes, tilting your head back down to watch Jessie open her own eyes.

“Oh my god.” Her hand clasps over her mouth, her eyes open wide and glued to your neck, a horrified look in her eyes.

“What?” You ask, but you already have a good idea of why she was staring.

“I left a mark.” Eyes still wide with fear, she doesn’t look at you, vision glued to what you assumed was a bright red marking.

“Jessie!” Your hand immediately clasps over where the warmth from her lips was still radiating. “You gave me a hickey?!”

“I wasn’t trying to, I wasn’t even sucking that hard!”

“I guess I should’ve mentioned I bruise easily.” You slowly take your hand away. “Is it bad?”

“Uh.” Jessie looks from your neck to your face and back to your neck. “It’s there. It’s definitely there. And it’s definitely too high up a shirt won’t cover it. A sweatshirt maybe. Oh my, your Mom is going to kill me.” Jessie’s words are quick and scrambled with her panic.

“Nope, nope.” You bring a hand to cover Jessie’s mouth and stop her talking. “We’re not talking about my Mom while I’m sitting in your lap.”

“Sorry.” Jessie mumbles into the palm of your hand, you remove it and put it back on her waist. She squeezes her eyes shut, tilting her head down with a slight shake. “I really didn’t mean to, I would’ve asked for permission if I planned on leaving a mark, I’ll help you cover it, I can see if Janine has makeup-”

“Take my bra off.” Her head shoots back up as you interrupt her.

“Are you sure? I figured I killed the mood by giving you a hickey like an inexperienced teenager.”

“No, you didn’t, to be fair, it felt really good. Plus it’s half my fault, I pushed your head. So, if you want to keep going, I’d like you to take off my bra and maybe you can put those suction skills of yours to work somewhere more hidden?” You raise your voice at the end, indicating you were asking her a question, more making her an offer.

She nods, her loose curls bouncing slightly around her face. She brings a hand around your back, you feel her fumble with the clasp for a second, Jessie face scrunched in concentration. Just as you’re about to offer help you feel the elastic give and the straps on your shoulders slip down slightly. The feeling, realizing you were suddenly going to be exposed brings back some of your nerves. Her hands move to hold the straps, she looks up to you again.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod at her and her fingers gently pull the straps down your arms, she keeps eye contact with you, not looking at your chest or the bra, not watching her own hands. Once your bra is off and on the floor with the growing pile of clothes Jessie’s hands come back to your body.

“Can I flip us over?” Her hands rest on your lower back. You give her permission and with ease she moves you off of her and onto your back before rolling over to position herself between your thighs. Your legs wrap gently around her waist. The position reminds you briefly of how the two of you were laying on top of each other at the field, her on top of you, her weight and warmth pressed into your body. You watch as Jessie takes in the sight of your bare torso. Her eyes make a path from your neck down, looking left to right, her attention being grabbed by your actively hardening nipples. She trails her eyes down the rest of your stomach before coming back up to look at you.

“You’re perfect.”

Jessie’s lips returning to your neck brings you out of your thoughts and back to the present. Her kisses are more tentative, likely she doesn’t want to accidentally mark you again. Part of you wishes she’d suck another mark. This time after making passes on your collar bones, Jessie’s mouth makes its way down the valley of your breasts.

You hum in content as Jessie moves her mouth to the flesh of your chest. She sucks just as she had on your neck, you watch as she works, her eyes are closed, focused expression on her face. She sucks a little harder making a groan bubble up from your throat. She doesn’t release her mouth but her eyes open, locking to yours while she seductively sucked harder. Jessie removes her mouth, taking a second to admire her work, a dark red circle sitting just under your nipple is left behind, she smiles before repeating the process on the other half of your chest.

Her hands have remained off of you while her mouth worked. You wanted her touch. Your own hands are all over her, they’re in her hair then on her cheek, then gently scratching down her back, squeezing her waist, holding her shoulders. You couldn’t make up your mind on where you wanted them, you wanted them everywhere. As Jessie continues to mark and tease your skin with her mouth you bring your fingers into the elastic band of her bra. You gently dig your fingers under the band hoping she’ll get the hint. She does, releasing the suction she had on you, giving each of your nipples a quick kiss before she sits up and away from you. You sit up with her, keeping your fingers just dipped under her bra.

“Can I take this off?” You look up at her. She doesn’t answer right away, she's just looking down at you, her eyes are glossed over . “Jessie?”

“Yeah?” She blinks a few times.

“Your bra? Can I take it off? If you want to keep it on, that's okay.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I just got distracted looking at you. You’re so pretty.” She leans down giving you a quick peck. Her words have your cheeks flushing pink. She’d complimented you before, but it was different, the way she got distracted looking at you, lost in her thoughts because she was looking at you. It made you feel wanted and that made you want her even more. Your fingers dig further under her bra and she moves her arms to raise them over her head. You’re able to get the bra about halfway off her arms before you can no longer reach and Jessie gets stuck for a moment, letting out a small giggle as the bra covered her face before she used her own hands to remove the fabric fully.

You weren’t sure if you should look. You wanted to, you wanted to admire every inch of her, but she had restrained her gaze on your own chest for a bit, so you do the same, looking at her face instead. Seeing you staring at her Jessie leans down to press her lips to yours. You sit up even more, putting the two of you in the same position from the other night, Jessie straddling you as you two made out. Only now instead of layers of clothing between the two of you, you felt her bare skin on yours.

The warmth of her chest on yours sends a shiver down your spine. You want to hold her tight to you like this forever. Her nails gently scratch down your back causing you to moan quietly against Jessie’s lips. She gets the hint you like it and she digs her nails in a bit harder, leaving red streaks down your back. The action has you throwing your head back away from Jessie to let out a louder moan.

“Hmm, someone likes that.” Jessie teases you, a smirk across her face. You roll your eyes at her, you want to make a smartass comment back but you can’t come up with anything in the moment too overwhelmed with the situation to come up with a coherent thought. Instead you sit up on your knees, pushing Jessie back so that you could climb on top of her, taking back a little bit of control.

Now you’re finally able to take in her figure. Your eyes float down to her chest, the sight has you nearly rolling your eyes back. Jessie was perfect, of course she was, but it still shocked you for some reason. You let your eyes take in all of her skin, smooth, her nipples hard, a couple of scars and scratches across her body, ones you had seen before with medical treatment, most of them from being an athlete. Her toned stomach. And then of course there’s her freckles.

You get distracted by her freckles. Of course the freckles on her face have always been a prominent feature you found adorable. You had seen the freckles on her shoulders and back before when you treated her. But now you take extra notice of them, she has freckles across her whole body, down her neck, across her chest, down her stomach, resting above her waistband, they’re everywhere. You have the urge to put your lips on every single marking on her skin, but you refrain, maybe you could do that another day.

Bringing your lips to her skin you begin to make your way down her neck, placing soft kisses before moving further down until Jessie’s hands hold you firm in the spot against her collarbone. You gently suck at the spot, feeling Jessie let out a sigh followed by a quiet whine. You can’t help but smile at her reaction, losing the suction to her skin. Taking your hand you place it on her stomach before slowly sliding it upward until you hit the curve of her breast. Not hearing any protest, you slide your hand further cupping her, giving a gentle squeeze before your thumb focuses on her nipple.

“That’s good.” Her words come out breathy. Her eyes flutter shut as your lips connect with her other nipple. Your tongue gently circling the bud. “Fuck.” The profanity is said so quietly from Jessie’s lips you barely hear it.

You continue pleasing her, switching between your hand and your mouth making sure you give even attention to both sides. You start to notice Jessie moving her hips. She grinds gently upward against your thigh as you suck a small mark into the skin below her breast. You give in to her movements, placing your thigh strategically to put pressure between her legs, you lean into her and she groans, flicking her hips upward.

You bring your hands to the button on her jeans, looking up at her for her permission. “Go ahead.” She puts her heels into the mattress and picks up her hips so let you shimmy her jeans off her pants. You don’t mean to but you realize as you get her jeans halfway down her thighs that you’ve grabbed her underwear too.

“Oops, sorry.” You separate the two waistbands and begin to just pull down her jeans.

“Don’t be sorry, just take them off too.” Jessie props herself up on her elbows to look at you. You listen, your hands going back up to start pulling down both her pants and underwear. You add the garments to the pile. When you turn and see Jessie, who was now completely naked in front of you, propped up on her elbows watching you with a stare, you freeze.

You didn’t know what to do. Well you did, you’ve done it before, you just, this was Jessie, someone new, you were starting from square one. You feel Jessie’s hands grab yours bringing you back into the moment. “You alright?” She says, giving each hand a squeeze.

Her voice and grounding gesture remind you that while yes this was Jessie, that’s what was going to make this easy, it was Jessie. “Yeah, I’m good.” You flash her a smile. “Uh so,” you glance down between her legs then back to her face, “is there anything you definitely don’t want me to do? Mouth, hands, anything?”

You watch as Jessie thinks for a second, “No, whatever you’re comfortable with is good but just as a tip I probably won’t get off just from you know, inside, I usually need, outside,” she lets her voice drop off and you’re not sure if she’s done with her sentence or if she just got shy.

“Yeah, I’m the same way.” You offer her the suggestion about your own body now while she’s showing her own vulnerability. “Inside and outside usually is easiest for me.”

Jessie nods “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Leaning over you let go of Jessie’s hands to brace yourself above her. You give Jessie a peck on the lips and then one on her cheek and all the way down her neck. You nestle your head into the crook of her neck, kissing her neck and shoulder as you bring your right hand down and between her legs. You find her thigh first, gently dragging your fingers on the inside of her thigh higher and higher to let her know where you were going. Her skin is smooth and you feel her thighs clench as your hand gets higher and higher until you can tell your just in the crease of her thigh. You let your hand sit for a second.

“Touch me.” Jessie murmurs into your ear which is conveniently placed just next to her lips with your head in her neck. You take a deep breath and you do as she asks. Your fingers run over her once before you dip your ring and middle fingers lower. You start to feel her arousal coat your fingers before you run them upward through her. You pause when you hear Jessie’s breath hitch in her throat as you don’t hear her let the breath out.

“Are you okay?” You pick your head up to ask her.

“Mmmhm.” She hums. “Keep going.”

Bringing your fingers back down you feel her entrance and the slick that’s covering it. You’d come back to that you decided, bringing your fingers back up and finding her clit. You start with barely any pressure, just circling the bundle of nerves once then twice, before lifting your head again. “Is this okay?”

“Good, more pressure though.” She guides you and you follow, increasing the pressure on your fingers. After a few minutes of the movement, Jessie lets out a pleased sigh followed by a deep moan. “That’s, that’s good, fuck.”

It wasn’t often you heard Jessie curse, once or twice on the field, a few other times, but this was now your new favorite way she said it. Letting profanities fall from her mouth because of the feelings you were providing was definitely an ego boost. You keep circling her clit, listening to the noises she made, telling you if you were doing the right thing. Caught up in the way she was whining, your name coming out from her lips a few times, you were surprised when you felt her hand come down to grasp yours.

“Can you put them inside?” She says when you remove your head from her shoulder to see why she had grabbed your hand.

“Of course.” You want to bring your fingers to your lips, to taste her, instead you have a better idea. “Can I taste you, while I finger you?” You clarify.

“God you’re hot asking for what you want.” She pushes your hand toward her opening. “Yes, you can.” Her permission is all you need and you’re moving off of her and lying between her legs, you grab them and place one over your shoulder and push the other up and out to give you room for your hand. You can see the arousal you spread with your fingers coating her. Using your fingers you gently spread her before placing your tongue flat against her core and licking a long slow strip up. When your tongue crosses her clit she bucks her hips, already sensitive from your fingers. You get lost in her flavor, tasting her, enjoying the feeling of your tongue on her in the most intimate way.

Alternating your movements you suck and lick her core until her hands are on your head, pushing and pulling you while she ground her hips into your face. You were surprised by how noisy Jessie was in bed. She wasn’t necessarily loud in terms of volume. She didn’t say too many words but she filled the air with moans, whimpers, deep breaths, the sound of her breath catching, all noises that were spurring you on. “Add your fingers please.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

You bring your two fingers to her entrance and begin to push into her. You both moan as you slide one in. The feeling of her warm and tight around your finger is enough and you can tell your underwear would be plenty damp when it came off. You give her a few thrusts with one finger before pushing in with two to no complaint of Jessie. You pump with both fingers slowly at first before beginning to speed up adding a curling motion.

Jessie’s grip tightens in your hair. You also notice the slight trembling on her thighs and the way she’s practically riding your face and tongue. You try keeping your movements the same, obviously getting a positive reaction from Jessie but it was hard as she would unexpectedly jerk her hips or pull your hair. You weren’t complaining though as you felt her begin to tighten around your fingers. “That feels so good.” She lets out a sigh. Her legs start to move, closing you in and holding you tight to her. “I’m going to,” she tries to warn you as her orgasm interrupts her, a moan of your name is the next thing out of her mouth.

You can feel her pulsating around your fingers, you keep moving them slowly, easing Jessie through her orgasm. Her hips jerk against your tongue a few times before she pulls up and away and her legs fall back to the bed from where they had tightened around your head. Slowly you removed your fingers, watching the small string of her arousal still connected the two of you as you pulled away. Lifting up onto your elbows you look at her. Her cheeks are red, she’s panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but most importantly she’s beaming, a big toothy grin on her face.

“Was that okay?” Obviously she had finished but this was about more than that, you wanted to make sure she was okay, comfortable, that she felt okay with what you did.

“That was more than okay.” She motions for you to come closer to you. You crawl up her body and she pulls you into a passionate kiss, it’s slow and deep, your tongues meet and you know she can taste herself on your lips. “Thank you.”

“Hey, no need to thank me, I had just a good of time as you did.”

“Can I return the favor?” Not only is she asking with her words but her eyes are looking up at you, practically begging as well as her hands are resting on the waistband of your pants, implying she wanted them off.

“Only if you want to, I don’t expect you to.”

“I want to, if you want me to?”

“Yeah, I do.” You climb off of Jessie standing next to the bed and bringing your own hands to the button of your pants. Just as you start to fiddle with the button Jessie speaks.

“Can I do it?”

Standing up she made her way in front of you. Her hands dropped to meet yours. Gently removing your fingers she replaced them with her own, undoing the button and zipper.

“Hang on,” Your hands come back to pause hers. “I just, I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t shaved in a little while, my legs, or anything else.”

Pinching her eyebrows together Jessie gives you a goofy look. “I don’t know if I should be offended that you’d think I’d care about something like that. I clearly hadn't shaved too recently either. Whatever you’re comfortable with. Does it bother you, because if you’re uncomfortable doing this because you haven’t shaved we don’t have to.”

“No, I just wanted you to know, before you saw.”

“Okay, we’ll just so you know, in the most polite way, I don’t care.” You pull your hands back up, off of hers to let her continue. She pulls your pants down squatting in front of you to help you step out. You use her shoulder to brace yourself as you slide out each foot. Staying squatting Jessie brings her hands up to your black underwear. You nod before she can ask and her fingers hook into the band, slowly dragging them down, again helping you step out of them.

Instead of immediately standing up Jessie brings her lips to your thighs, placing a kiss before moving over to your other thigh repeating the process. She places kissing alternately legs all the way up to your hips, intentionally avoiding where you desperately wanted her to be. She then stands putting you face to face again.

“Lay down.” She glances to the bed and you’re embarrassingly quick to lay down in the center. Once you lay, you notice Jessie’s eyes on you, scanning your whole body before moving to crawl onto the bed.

Her hands find the skin just above your knees, giving them a gentle push, encouraging you to open your legs. You spread your legs and can’t help but feel self conscious as you watch Jessie’s eyes fixate at the apex of your legs. You know she can probably see how desperately you want her, you can feel your own wetness between your legs. She lets out a breath and moves to kneel between your thighs.

Her right hand slides up your thigh, fingers gently caressing the skin as she moves up, pausing just on the crease of your leg. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” You didn’t want to sound too impatient but you also wanted her to touch you, to fuck you.

You notice her hands are cold when they first touch you. She slides her fingers between your lips, opening you to gather some of your wetness on her fingers. She drags her fingers upward finding your clit. Her touch is foreign, unfamiliar, different from what your body knows, which is the feeling of your own fingers.

“Still okay?” Jessie asks as she circles your clit with her fingers.

“Mhhhhmm” Your eyes are fixated watching her wrist, the way her forearm flexes as she touches you.

Jessie continues her movements, she smiles when you start to shift your hips in time with her fingers. She dips her fingers again, gathering more of your arousal to coat her fingers before she places them back to your opening. She just lets her fingers sit there looking up to you for permission. You give her a nod.

You feel her start to gently push into your entrance with two fingers, already feeling a slight stretch, you grab her wrist.

“Go slow, please, your fingers are bigger than mine.”

“Of course, let me know if it’s uncomfortable. I technically have lube.” You cock your head learning that.

“Why do you-”

“It’s with the condoms, I didn’t pack it, they give all the athletes condoms, there’s lube too.” She shakes her head slightly before glancing over to the side table, likely where the condoms were.

“Oh, I didn’t know that. I knew about the condoms, not the lube.”

“Yeah.” You both just look at each other, as if you both have forgotten what you’re in the middle of. Jessie adjusts the way she’s sitting, making her fingers slide along your opening, bringing you back to the activity at hand.

“I should be fine, I mean, I’m wet, just it’s been a while, so just go slow.”

Jessie nods and readjusts herself again so that she’s lying next to you, her fingers still resting at your opening, placing the slightest pressure into you. She brings her mouth to yours into a open mouthed kiss and at the same time begins to slide a single finger into you.

Her first finger slides easily, she moves slowly knuckle by knuckle until her palm is resting against you. She pulls out and pushes back in faster this time. Her fingers were not only thicker than yours but longer too.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, feels good.”

The room is relatively silent with the exception of the labored breathing between the two of you, the sound of your lips on each other, and the noise coming from between your legs as Jessie’s finger pumps in and out.

Jessie pulls out and pauses this time, you feel her place her second finger next to her first. She pulls away from your kiss to watch your face as she slides in her fingertips, you feel yourself clench around her and she pauses for a moment.

“Doing alright?”

“Yeah Jess, feels good.” You’d never been with anyone so attentive, so focused on making you feel comfortable. You take a deep breath as she slides her fingers in further, there’s a stretch but not uncomfortable. You adjust your legs, opening them more to try and ease the feeling of tightness.

Once her fingers are in, Jessie doesn’t pull them out, she gently curls them up and lets her hand rock against you. The base of her palm applies pressure to your clit. She lets her hand rock against you a few times and the tightness begins to fade, the pleasure from her palm rubbing your clit taking over.

Moaning into Jessie’s mouth as she kisses you, encouraging her to keep up her movements. She does, rocking her hand more aggressively. She pulls her lips from yours and buries her head into your side to kiss below your ear and down your neck.

It was a good feeling, her fingers inside of you and her palm bumping your clit but you could tell it likely wouldn’t be enough, you needed a little more stimulation. “Jessie.” You get her attention.

“Yeah?”

“Can you use your other hand on my clit? This feels good but I think I need a little more direct stimulation.”

“Of course.” Jessie gives you one last kiss before she moves her head away from yours. Jessie climbs over your thigh to sit between your legs again. She brings her previously free hand down, her thumb finding your clit while her other hand continues to work in and out of you.

Immediately feeling the wave of pleasure from the direct attention she was giving your bundle of nerves, you throw your head back, letting your mouth fall open with a moan of appreciation. “That’s good.” You manage to whisper.

Tilting your head back down you watch Jessie. She’s still naked. Her bicep is bulging on the arm thrusting into you, her cheeks still dusted with a blush, she’s staring where her hands are touching you with such focus it’s as if nothing else in the room existed.

You could stare at her forever, watching how her face reacts when you let out a whine, a smirk of satisfaction coming across her lips, how she pinches her eyebrows in concentration. But the more she touches you the more you feel the tightening in your stomach. The tightening that meant this would all be over in a matter of a few minutes.

Screwing your eyes shut you debate having her change what she was doing in an attempt to prolong your orgasm but when you open your eyes again and you’re met with her eyes watching your face a flash of heat runs through your body and you know there’s no stopping the inevitable now.

“Jessie.” You’re cautious not to moan her name too loudly, but loud enough that she hears it. “Keep going, I’m going to cum.” Your hips start to roll into her hand, chasing your high. Your hands come up to grasp at the pillow behind your head as your back arches up and off the bed. Her fingers inside of you feel so deep, hitting every pleasurable spot, your walls start to clench around her and you see her give one last cocky smile before your eyes slam shut as the wave of pleasure crashes over you.

A string of profane words falls out of your mouth, you’re not even sure what you’re saying, all of your senses overwhelmed with the pleasure of your orgasm, your heartbeat in your ears, the grasp of the sheets in your hands, the tingle running across your skin. Jessie continues her motions, exactly as she had been, letting you jerk your hips and legs as needed to get yourself through the high. She only slows once you start to squirm away from her touch instead of pressing into it.

You slowly open your eyes, blinking a few times to clear the spots you had from shutting them so hard. You look up to see Jessie looking back at you with awe as she kneeled between your legs. “You’re really hot.” Her compliment mixed with the come down of your orgasm has you blushing, throwing your hand over your face, peeking at her through your fingers. She’s smirking at you, her bottom lip between her teeth. You pull your hand away to look at her.

Keeping her eyes on yours she brings her fingers to her mouth, sucking off your release. A small hum of satisfaction falls from her throat. “You taste so good. Can I?” She glances down to your core.

“Can you what?”

Jessie pauses and you can tell she’s contemplating what to say. “With my mouth, can I, uh, eat you out?”

She’s looking at you, wide eyes with excitement. The fingers previously in her mouth rest on her bottom lip. You weren’t one usually for back to back rounds, you needed a little bit of time between, but the way Jessie was looking at you like she was ready to devour you changed your mind. It wouldn’t hurt to let her try. “You can try, I might be too sensitive.”

Not hesitating she quickly moves herself between your legs. Her hands come up to the bend in your knee, gently pushing your legs up and out. Jessie sticks her tongue out flat so it rests along her mouth toward her chin and brings her face to your already wet and sensitive core. Her first lick is slow, feather light, she’s barely touching you. Her second pass is more firm, still slow but with pressure. By her third lick you can tell she’s not just feeling you out anymore.

“Oh fuck.” Your suspicions are confirmed, you’re sensitive, the feeling of her tongue bordering on immense pleasure and also overstimulation. You can tell she’s enjoying herself the way she’s moaning into you, sending slight vibrations against you, so you let her keep going. Fisting the sheets tight with your hands you try to relax, ease into the pleasure and away from the overstimulation. She continues, her lips providing a soft suction while her tongue flicks over your sensitive skin, causing you to jerk away from her, her arms wrapped tightly around your thighs makes your movement almost pointless as she holds you in place.

“Fuck, shit, Jessie stop, too sensitive.” You gently push her head away which she obeys and you close your legs. “Sorry, I thought I’d be fine.”

Jessie lifts her head, you can see your wetness covering her lips and chin. “Don’t apologize. You say stop I’ll stop, no questions. I’ll just start with that next time.”

Next time. She said next time. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at where she was laying, her cheek pressed against your inner thigh as she rested her head looking up at you.

“Next time?” Repeating her words back to her.

“I mean, only if you want to. I didn’t see this as a one time thing, I hope you didn’t either. I thought with the date, we could maybe keep going on dates and then that way we’d get to do more of this too.”

“Yeah, next time, I like the sound of that.” Smiling at you Jessie unwraps her arms from your thighs and moves up your body to place a kiss on your lips. It’s a slow and sloppy kiss in a way that’s passionate and yet still relaxing.

She rolls off of you and lays next to you. The two of you lay in silence, it's peaceful, not uncomfortable, the hum of the air conditioner making the only noise. Her hand finds yours and she laces your fingers together momentarily before she plays with your fingers, tracing patterns across each one and then doing the same to your palm. Her movements are relaxing and you feel yourself starting to doze off only to be jolted awake by the elbow in your side.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, you’ve got to brush your teeth and you should probably pee.” Jessie says softly to you.

You roll to look at her. Half open eyes you give her a sleepy smile. “But I’m comfortable here.”

“Come on.” Jessie hops off the bed, extending a hand to you, you take it and let her pull you up. “I’m going to shower, there’s extra towels if you want to as well.”

“Yeah that would probably be nice. I’ll brush my teeth and then leave and you can shower first.” You say as you both walk into the bathroom.

You flick on the light switch and look in the mirror taking in your appearance looking at your face first. Your cheeks are red, your hair is a mess, you look tired. It’s then that you see the mark Jessie accidentally made on your neck. “Oh my god Jessie, what the hell?” You lean into the mirror to further inspect the damage. The mark was darker and larger than you had expected, and it was undeniably a hickey, you wouldn’t be able to argue you burnt yourself on a curling iron like you had in high school. It was also near the middle of your neck, you’d be lucky if a sweatshirt covered it.

“I know, it’s only gotten darker too, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean it. I’ll call Janine in the morning, she’ll have stuff to cover it.” Jessie looks guilty, an apologetic tone obvious in her voice.

“I cannot believe you.” You say all while slowly shaking your head and smiling at her in the mirror. You really weren’t upset, it was going to be hard to cover but not impossible.

“Let me make it up to you?” She bats her eyes at you a few times in the mirror.

You turn to face her. “Yeah? How are you going to do that?”

“Get in the shower and I’ll show you.”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #jessie fleming blurb #canwnt x reader

[r4spb3rr13s]

i saw the news :( however i have come to re-enter! So my mcbling angel, could we pretty please get a part 3 of meet mcbling hotties with maybe shigiraki, sabi, maybe a little twice, maaaybe a little gentle criminal.... i luv u and ur my bae as well cutie >3<

- 🍥 anon

villains meeting their mcbling gf

♱ shigaraki, twice

♱ pt.1 here pt.2 here

notes: dabi is in part one!! also this may be ooc 😔 and sorry bby but i have no clue how to write gentle criminal 😓

Tomura is in his usual spot, staring the TV down with enough rage to burn holes in the screen. Naturally, it’s because All Might is on screen. Like always.

The bar is in a low hum, filled with smoke from Dabi’s refusal to step out to huff on his cigarette. Spinner and Toga are playing cards, and her giggles bounce off the walls. Other than that, it’s fairly quiet.

Until the door creaks open. Then it’s silent.

And there… you stood. Awkwardly.

Tomura’s head snapped towards you with a sickening crunch resounding through the air. Any words he had reering up are stuck in his throat, though.

The light is shaping you like an angel. A very promiscuous angel, that is. A tight, pink dress hugs your curves and the platform wedges you have on accentuate every step your fake-tanned legs take.

“Uh… Himiko?”

Said girl squeals, and her chair scratches across the floor like nails on a chalkboard as she jumps up. Tomura watches as she runs up to you and wraps you in a hug.

“What the fuck…” Dabi trails off, eyes pointed at Tomura. Everyone is looking at Tomura, trying to gage his reaction. It snaps him out of his stupor.

“Toga, who is this?” He rasps out, pointing a lazy knuckle at you. His eyes barely flit over you, but when they do, you see a small bit of pink blossom on his pale face.

It’s weirdly cute.

Himiko squeezes you so hard you think she might suffocate you to death. I mean, you wouldn’t put it past her, but still.

“This is Y/n!!”

She is met with blank stares.

You roll your eyes and shrug her off, making her pout. Taking a cautious step forward, you catch Tomura’s eye - you know exactly who he is.

You’ve admired him for a while, and the League, in silence. You’ve been on chat rooms with a false IP address, watched their dark-web videos, heard their lackeys talking in the darker parts of town.

Himiko found you when you were talking to one of the lackeys, and surprise, surprise, took a liking to you. She gushed about the League, and weirdly…

You wanted in.

You strode forward, ignoring the room’s eyes on you - you were just focused on Tomura Shigaraki.

He watched you with stiff, darting red eyes. It was like he couldn’t decide where to rest his eyes - everytime he moved his gaze, there was your soft, glowy skin or something pink or patterned or your soft hair-

“Y/n L/n,” You said and held your hand out.

Tomura watched your hand as he leant on his own hand. His lip curled and you faltered. But, he fished out a thick-lined glove, slipped it on, and grabbed your hand.

His eyes fell on yours as your hands shook. The pink on his face was almost the same colour as your dress, and his cracked lip twitched.

“I’m here to join, by the way.” You clarify, heat rising to your own cheeks.

Your hand is still in his. Tomura notices and drops you like a hot pan, quickly looking away. He mutters a small, ‘okay’ and notions for a pen from Kurogiri - another member you’re familiar with.

Tomura scribbled something down with his thick glove on, muttering under his breath in a raspy, crisp voice. The sound cuts through the thick air and makes the hair on the back of your neck.

He stops writing and holds out the paper to you. It’s… a number. You almost facepalm.

You cock a brow, and Tomura goes pink again, but refuses to look at you.

He clears his throat, itching his neck absent mindedly. “I’m busy now. Call me later and we’ll talk about your membership.”

:::

Jin is tired. Spent. Exhausted. Fatigued. He’s practically swaying on his feet as he breathes in the smoke from his cigarette. He nods at Dabi as he walks past and enters the dingy bar.

If he could just close his eyes-

A loud whistle rings through the air, and for a startling moment, Jin thinks he’s getting hit on by the builders across the street. Until you come into view.

Your confident stride falters and he watched with an open jaw as you pause to scream at the men in hi-vis.

There’s a small, douchey part of him that can’t even blame them - you’re gorgeous!

Your tattered denim shorts sit low on your hips, and the majority of your torso is on show in the low light of dusk. A small, pink tube top is wrapped around your chest, and big jewellery jangled with every finger you jab as you scream.

Your verbal assault on the builders finally halts when they let out a hurried apology and decide to get back to work. With a sigh, you push your hair out of your face and move on.

Well, you would if there wasn’t another guy in your way.

He’s tall, muscular and blond, with eyebags that rivalled the purple of your velvet bag. The smoke from the cigarette in between his fingers is curling around his neck like a choker, and brought stark attention to his agape mouth. You scoff.

“What? Want your turn?”

“Yes please- no, no thanks-” He barks out, then covers his mouth. Pink spreads across his cheeks from under his hand, and you cock a brow.

“…Yes or no?”

“Yes-no-”

The poor guy seemed torn. He was muttering to himself now, back rigid and face pink. It was… endearing in a way.

You cast a short glance back to the builders, and Jin takes the moment to drink in the size of the silver hoops hung either side of your face. He could probably fit his hand through them, they’re so big. Or-

“Listen, you’re cute… so I’ll give you number,” You mutter and take a short step towards him. Your sparkly eyes search his face, and he curtly nods, still as pink as bubblegum. “Okay, just, if they ask, I was giving you directions.”

Again, he nods. Like a well behaved dog, you think.

The poor man is left in a mental battle watching you leave. He does know for sure, though, the paper clutched in his hand with your number on is becoming his most sacred possession.

:::

notes: THIS SHIT IS NOT PROOFREAD IM SORRY 😭

taglist: @marzkqx @aespie @itzlittlemissperfect @im-so-tired-sorry @mangalovesanime-blog @livingmydreamlife5555

#{ mcbling baddie } #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha villains x reader #mha #mha x reader #mha villains x reader #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #bnha twice #bnha twice x reader

[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

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts! love youuuu <3

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Fill this form out if you'd like to join my taglist! <3

Taglist:

@joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlover, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk

@lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend

@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama , @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf

@torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me, @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles, @builtbybrokenbells, @stardustjake, @indigostreaksolo, @tripthelightfantastix, @kiszkas-canvas, @jakebrainrot, @anthemheatwave

#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

[kisseobie]

i love hard hours.. hehe….. what do you think about piwon and public sex 😵‍💫😵‍💫

p1harmony and public sex

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

genre: nsfw (mdni)

a/n: mwahahaha i think many thoughts abt this actually…. thank u for ur contributions user wispyxjae

keeho ୭

is into it if you’re into it. doesn’t really think of it himself, but when you timidly bring it up to him before a date night he’s all ears. is definitely a hard dom, but a service dom at that, so who is he to refuse your cute little fantasy? as we may have noticed from my other keeho writings i’m … a bit obsessed with the idea of fucking him in a car and i’m not straying from that desire here either.. just imagine riling him up underneath the table during your date at a fancy restaurant, sliding one foot out of your red high heels and rubbing your foot along his groin, all while he glares at you, clearly unimpressed with your antics. keeho taking out his annoyance at your teasing him in the car, parked in a packed lot where anyone could walk by and see (and hear) what he’s doing to you. may even fuck you on the hood of his car if he’s feeling bold (and secretly is sure no one would be able to see) lol

theo ୭

personally, i think theo would be the one to bring up the idea of public sex to you. he’s not gonna be overly disappointed if you turn him down, but if you agree to it, he’s wasting no time the next instance the two of you are out and about to get down to business. the mens restroom is his personal favorite place to drag you to, it’s private enough if he puts in the effort to lock and barricade the door, but has thin enough walls for the opposite side to listen in on the nastiness of it all. although i may see him as a switch who leans submissive, i think public sex draws out a more dominant side to theo, in fact, it’s not even only dominance, he’s mean too. slapping your ass—and face if you’re into that—fucking into you so hard you’re drooling. definitely becomes a reoccurring part of your relationship once he’s gotten a taste of the thrill of being caught

jiung ୭

hmmm with jiung, i think you’d have to convince him. he’s definitely the voice of reason within your relationship, and it takes you several begs on multiple occasions, batted eyelashes and all, for him to finally give you the green light to pursue your little kink. i think you’d have a lot of fun with it, and would always aim to surprise your boyfriend when you’re out in public, like giving him a handjob at the movies, or even coercing him into a quickie in a dressing room stall. he’s always anxious that you’ll get caught and will have to live with the embarrassment of it, but a part of him, the possessive side maybe, also doesn’t mind. loves to know that he’s insatiable to you, so much so that you can’t go more than a few days without pulling him into a mildly secluded era to fuck and suck him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do <3

intak ୭

intak is shyer than most may believe. due to this, i think he might be a little apprehensive at first, but when the pair of you first begin having sex in more public places, he realizes he may be into it even more than you, despite it being your idea. this might not be considered public, but his favorite risky place to fuck you would definitely be the groups’ shared kitchen counter. the fact that any of his members could walk in on him eating you out really riles the poor boy up :( besides that, i think intak might even be a little weirdo that would enjoy fucking you in more unusual locations.. like the top floor of a parking garage at night.. or maybe even a busy library :DD he just can’t say no to you, sorry!

soul ୭

is neutral on the topic. he’s a pervy boy who loves fucking his hot girlfriend, so if said gf wants to have sex in an empty classroom, he’ll clear off some desks and get his ass to work! he really doesn’t mind most of your sexual fantasies, and in true shota fashion, is just the cute boyfriend who wants to give you each and everything you ask for, so i think sho would just go with the flow if you asked to be intimate in more risky, public places. i specifically can imagine you, dolled up in a flowy sundress, on a little picnic with your boyfriend, and soul having a mischievous smile on his face, giggling while poking his head under your dress and giving you head in a secluded area of a public park. he’s so eager to please :(

jongseob ୭

this man bro… i don’t think with yall it would really be a conversation, more of just a spur of the moment thing that would soon become a reoccurring fantasy shared by both of you! i can picture the two of you at an arcade of sorts, squeezing into a photo booth and taking cute couple photos. the film strip you chose had quite a few slots, and you suggest a kiss shot, which somehow leads to your boyfriend making out with you, and eventually pulling up your shirt and bra to knead at your tits, all whilst the photo booth continues to capture the intimate scene with consistent clicks. when yall finally realize the session has ended, you’re both blushing and scrambling out of the booth the retrieve the photos before anyone else can take a peak at them… woah

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @t3ssamoodboard @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @sundancearchives @chuuswifereal @seisyiss @fishsquishh @sunnyyangie

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

𓂃✧ ୭

#kpop writers #p1harmony x reader #p1h #p1harmony #p1harmony drabbles #piwon #jongseob x reader #jongseob #kim jongseob #p1h jongseob #p1h smut #p1harmony smut #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony reactions #p1harmony hard hours #soul p1harmony #p1h soul #keeho smut #haku shota #soul x reader #soul smut #hwang intak #choi jiung #yoon keeho #choi taeyang #jiung x reader #intak x reader #intak smut #jiung smut #keeho x reader

[voxisdaddy]

after hours of punishing vox and edging him and stuff he’s so deep in subspace he just begs you to praise him 😕😕 i just love the idea of his bratty walls coming down and just wanting the readers approval, like being all weepy about it!! he puts up with so much shit (and gives out the same energy) for so long all day that he just wants his mommy to be nice to him 😔 mmfph subby vox just 😍😍

Tender

THANK YOU ANON I just wanna care for this lil needy brat so badly I swear <3 also I like how my name is VoxisDaddy and yet every time I write him in a sexual context, he's a subby bottom and occasional pervert lol

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Type: Headcanons + kinda rambly | Fluff

C/TW: Suggestive content, marking this 18+ because of it, needy Vox, tears, mommy kink, fluffy aftercare, sub!Vox x Dom!Reader, reader implied as fem im sorry :c

In which after hours of endless (pleasurable) torture, all Vox wants is his mommy's sweetest affections <3

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Whatever the fuck it is he did to deserve this overwhelming pleasure he's already long forgotten about. Poor baby's too fucked dumb :c

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Once you finally detached yourself from him, his legs fall limp against the bed, quivering. You could poke or accidentally graze his thigh and his legs would twitch rather suddenly. "Mommy" falling from his lips in short mumbles

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He would so panic when you get up to leave, reaching a clawed hand out to grasp at your arm desperately. He'd softly tug on your arm as he babbles almost incoherently

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You swear you can hear something about "mommy" in there somewhere—which is new. He normally used that term during or leading up to it, never after

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Though perhaps by now you already understand what he wants since this is likely not your first rodeo like this. Gently you'd pry his hand off of you and he wouldn't put up much of a fight sine he doesn't wanna accidentally scratch you. He'd look up at you pleadingly though; don't leave him :c

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You'd have to reassure him and kiss his knuckles softly. Saying something like—"I'm just gonna go get something to clean you up baby, I'll be right back." No longer than a few moments do you come back with a damp rag and carefully run it over his quivering thighs and the surrounding area. He lets you do this, his gaze never leaving you

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Once he's all cleaned up and not feeling so sticky anymore this man will absolutely not let you leave

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He's actually so fucking clingy, muttering into your skin about how good you made him feel and if he did a good job—asking if he's forgiven for being such a brat

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Maybe you'd contemplate this just to be a bit mean cuz he's really been unnecessarily rude lately, today being the final straw, but looking at him all clingy, teary eyed, and desperate for your love you can only sigh; "You did so good for me baby. So much self control."

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ The lights in the city didn't shut off too early this time :D

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I feel like in his fucked dumb foggy brain, he'd silently beg to suck on your tit. Being the good boy he is, he waits for permission and goes for it—whimpers softly at your quiet praises

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Ngl I kinda see the clinging seeping over to the next day

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Like you'd be sitting on the couch sipping on your morning drink and Vox would walk over in more comfortable clothing. You'd raise a brow—he usually heads to work as soon as possible, what the hell is he still doing here? He'd wave you off, giving some kind of excuse then sitting on the floor in between your legs, resting against you as you watch tv. his arms resting on your thighs as he sits back and relaxes his sore af body

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Either takes the rest of the day off and follows you around like a lost puppy or practically clings to you as he sits in his office chair working-or maybe on your lap while you hug him from behind

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This last one is just a personal funny thing I'm picturing and it's Vox being in a noticeably good mood that day and just giving his assistant a random ass pay bonus. Side eyeing you to see if you noticed his generosity lmao

IM SO FUCKING SORRY THIS TOOK LIKE A WEEK AND A HALF TO COME OUT ANON SVAOVBNO

Sometimes my posts get shadowbanned, I'd really appreciate it if you not only liked but also reblogged <3 no pressure, just a thought!!

#hazbin hotel #x reader #vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #sub vox #dom reader

[marypaol]

Poisoned Thoughts

Draco x fem!reader

Summary: Reader is drowning in the river of insecurities, and Draco is only the hand that’s pushing her further down.

Warnings: Insecurities, obviously, mention of suffocation, choking, strangling, etc. Bullying about weight, eating habits, mention of drowning, drowning someone, ANGST, crying, mention of blood, all that good stuff. :)

Note: This is very personal to me, and I was happy to write a story that kind of puts awareness out there about insecure people. Everyone has their own dislikes about themselves, and I don’t think it’s at all funny to make fun of someone that thinks bad about themselves. So please know to spread kindness and respect others, because you never know what they think of themselves. I’m here if anyone needs to talk, and remember that you are absolutely beautiful just the way you are!!! 🫶🏻

For the wonderful @maaaapara I hope you enjoy!

This is my first time writing full on angst, so it might be bad.

The feeling of hunger was over her, the long hours of studying finally catching up. She didn’t plan on doing the whole Charms essay, just a few paragraphs and she’d be done for the night. But her quill kept moving nonetheless, swirling the cursive letters against the parchment with soft grace. The soft scratching noises arising from the action were peaceful to her ears, and the cackling of the flames in the fireplace was another sign of calm.

Once she finished it, she rolled it up neatly, tying a thin piece of string around it that was worn out from continuous usage. She always seemed to use that certain one out of the millions she had in her bag, since not only was it old, but she liked the material’s feel against her fingertips.

She liked to think of the soft feeling as an award for finishing the work, letting herself know that she can feel the calming sensation if she completed what was asked of her.

The sun was sinking into the sky with such ease she couldn’t see it moving. The soft warmth was warmer than the daylight, glowing innocently into the green room, letting the world know it’s almost time for slumber.

Of course, the urge to eat after a long day was much higher than the desire to sleep, mostly because she felt like everyone, not just her, had an issue falling asleep if they were hungry. As so did she, but she knew she missed the feast far too long ago, too busy frying her brain out of her head to make the action to consume food.

So she sighed, trying to ignore the yelling of her stomach as it demanded something, anything. She had to set aside the want, knowing she had to go to bed and if a prefect caught her sneaking for food they’d think she was a freak, desperate for something to eat but in reality she was too busy doing school work.

The last thing she wanted was a person coming off that way so her tired legs carried her to her dormitory, all the way up trying to fight the want to eat.

She set her bag down on the ground as she got there, her roommates ignoring her presence as per usual, the feeling settling in her chest a long time ago.

Thinking about it now, her brain took her as she went into bed after changing into pajamas, the soft sheets relaxing on her skin, she’d never fit in as easily as the other girls did.

She’d always be the one who was too shy to talk, too shy to interact with people, instead taking place in a corner where she’d watch act unfold. The corners seemed to be the only place that accepted her, the curve of the wall as they both merged together taking home on her back as she sought for warmth that wasn’t there.

The line going from the floor to ceiling basically fit her quite well. She liked to think of it this way. Everyone was the walls, either side of her nice and flat as they lived life. They were smooth, beautiful, and simply flawless as you walked into the room, admiring the wall pattern in the space. But, she, however, was different. She was the corner, where all the webs built up and all the dust formed that wasn’t wanted; the corner wasn’t wanted. The person who lived in the room doesn’t attention to the corners, too busy admiring the wallpaper full of beauty and elegance to care. They don’t bother cleaning the corner while polishing the room for guests, knowing they’re blocked by furniture so the people won’t notice. No one noticed her, it seemed. Why exist, she thought, head turned to the left, staring right at the floor corner of the room, the darkness making it barely visible but she knew that was just her trying to look into her chest.

When she woke up, the room was empty and there was a cold absence in the room, floating in the air. The beds of her roommates were made, the neatness seeming to mock her, the sight of the smooth blankets making her twist in her bed sheets.

The sight was unsettling for an unknown reason, feeling something off. She looked out the window, rubbing her eyes and seeing the sun quite high within the clouds, shining upon world with such grace.

She yawned, grabbing her watch of the table beside her bed and snapping it on her wrist, looking down at the time lazily.

She gasped, lips parting and chest squeezing. It was almost time for her first to class to start, and she was still in bed, yawning like it was nothing that she forgot to set an alarm the night before. Too busy thinking about food, the thoughts in her head grumbled to herself, feeling hot anger flush in her blood. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She scrambled out of the bed sheets, feeling more suffocated every second.

She wondered why her roommates didn’t wake her, but the thought only lasted for a second. They didn’t care, was the truth.

While she was putting on her robes, the sleeves being extra irritating that morning, she felt an unexpected sensation of anger brewing in her emotions. She felt angry with herself, disappointed. She wanted to feel normal, not having these never ending thoughts swarming in her mind.

She scoffed the clothes on, standing in front of the mirror, looking at her pathetic tired self standing there, wanting nothing more than the day to end. Right then and there, she wanted it all to end. She wanted her brain to shut off, like a light switch, flipping from emotions felt to nothing at all. She pulled at her hair strands, feeling deep annoyance and irritation building in her heart and stomach. Her hair wasn’t corroborating in the way she wanted it to, and her robes seemed itcher than usual. The fabric seemed to be choking her and the more she tugged at the collar the more it seemed to be strangling her neck.

She felt tears prickle her eyes, nose burning at the want to sob.

She went close to the mirror, not wanting to ruin the makeup she put on her eyelashes, carefully wiping the forming unwanted tears. She still looked horrible despite her attempts to make her look more awake, but it was good enough compared to what she saw when she first got out of bed.

She quickly made her way down the stairs to the Great Hall, hoping to at least grab a piece of toast before class.

She raced to the Slytherin table. The students had that sense coming off them, the feeling that they’ve been content and full, ready for the weekend as it quickly approached. Her stomach wasn’t happy, so she grabbed a piece of toast cut diagonally and spread butter with jam, trying not to combine the two condiments.

She bit into it kinda quickly, already seeing a group of Ravenclaws leave the Hall. She knew it was just because they had a habit of being prepared and responsible, but she did have a couple traits from that House, and being persistently on time was one of them.

“What’s the matter with you? Trying to gain weight, I see.” She heard a snicker, boys around her chuckling and girls giggling. She looked up, confused on who the person who spoke was talking to.

She looked up and saw Draco Malfoy, silver eyes staring right at her with lips turned up into a smirk.

“W-what?” She pathetically squeaked, pausing mid-chew. The toast’s texture felt weird on her tongue, the urge to just chew it was getting greater as it got wetter with her spit. She suddenly felt like throwing up.

“Are you deaf? And how are you eating another one?” He snarled, looking disgusted. “We just ate.”

Th laughter seemed to get louder in her ears, echoing in her head. The toast didn’t seem so appealing anymore, her stomach feeling sickening. She felt like throwing up.

She cleared her incoming dry throat. “I-I was-”

“Was what? Gaining a million pounds in one meal?” Draco interrupted her attempt of explaining where she was the previous night. He snickered, smirk widening at the rising laughter at the table. She couldn’t help but notice some yellow robes joining them within the green, a few Hufflepuffs finding interest in the occurrence.

Her cheeks warmed, heated, even, and she stood on wobbly legs, eyes burning with liquid that she desperately wanted to go away. She picked up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder with great effort. She couldn’t seem to carry things like she usually was able to, the tears decreasing her ability to use her muscles.

She didn’t want to scan the people there, just in case she spotted one of them in future classes and have to experience awkward eye contact, but she did anyway; specifically Malfoy.

His sliver eyes met hers and the differences were clear. Hers was full of see-through gloss, folded with innocence and gentleness. His, however, full of hardness and hatred, looking at her as a way to challenge her to see what she would do.

And she did something. The gasps that were heard from the girls, the chuckles and soft curses from the boys were ignored, she just did it.

She had grabbed the spoon from the jam she used earlier, scooping an abnormally large amount of the spread and aggressively flung the scoop right in the middle of Draco’s chest. The jam splattered on his spotless ironed robes, green and black replaced with stained strawberry jam. His pale face finally was given color, chunks of strawberry on his cheeks.

Draco practically growled. “You little-”

She huffed, breaking through her nose as she broke her eyes away from his face after glaring.

She stormed out of the Hall, tears in her eyes that she harshly rubbed away.

“My father will hear about this!” She heard him holler after her. Her anxiety rose, not wanting to get in trouble with Mr. Malfoy, but the burning in her eyes distracted her. She doubted he would actually do something to her, his father, but the lingering thought of being expelled was in the back of her mind.

I’m in so much trouble, she thought, rubbing her cheeks that now had thick streaks running down them.

“Hey!” She heard, the voice the one that she heard yelling at her just moments before.

She walked faster, not wanting to encounter him once again.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” He said, suddenly grabbing her shoulders and forcibly turning her around so she faced him. A gasp escaped her lips, not having enough time to wipe her puffy eyes so he saw it all. Her face was red, cheeks flushed from the embarrassment he caused her and from rubbing the continuous tears. The once was whiteness around her eyes were no more, they were now red and almost bloodshot looking. Her eyelashes were wet and her body shook as she looked at him. He still had the jam on his robes, the red for sure going to stain. His face was clean though, like he wiped it off before he went to make fun of her more.

“What’s this?” He sneered, chuckling at the sight of her tears. “Crying about the truth, are we?”

She shoved him off her, his hands coming off her shoulders leaving a not so satisfying sting behind. “Shove off, Malfoy.”

He laughed. “What’s the matter? Not my fault you’re fat.”

Her breathing stopped, the breath in her lungs pausing mid-way as she looked at him, a moment of silent bracing between them.

“I’ll have you know,” she started, voice wet as the tears seemed to flood her throat not just her eyes. “That I was studying last night and missed dinner.”

Draco was smirking at her reactions, eyes twinkling with excitement. “Missed dinner? Studying?” He scoffed out a laugh, not believing her so called alibi. “That’s your excuse for stuffing your face?”

The girl stared helplessly as he laughed at her, eyes showing nothing but satisfaction as he watched her fall apart in front of him. She was drowning, and he was above the surface waiting for the bubbles to stop.

“Go to hell, Malfoy.” She spat through a clogged throat, turning away and starting to walk away towards the bathroom; her first class was the last thing on her mind.

“Oo so threatened!” He called after her, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. “Don’t forget to miss lunch too!”

His laughter and calls faded out as she stormed into a girls bathroom, the cold space abandoned as everyone was probably just about now getting to their lessons.

It felt like her tears were a river, and her eyes were the dam, the bricks breaking as soon as she entered the bathroom. The water came flooding out, killing whatever there was in its path.

She sank to the floor, green robes and sniffles, her hand held high, fingertips grazing the surface of the water’s depths, waiting desperately for a hand to reach for hers and pull her out.

The bubbles of screams and pleads rang within the water, no air inside for it to be heard.

Her brain took over, wanting nothing more than to escape and be free again.

She sat there for a while, bottom getting numb as her eyes felt like they would fall out after all that hard labor.

She got up, legs wobbly as she had a horrible flashback of when she stood up from the table of the Great Hall.

Leaving her bag disfavored, she arrived in front of the mirror and gazed reluctantly.

What she saw displeased her very much so. Her hair was a representation of the word ‘mess’ if it was alive and breathing, as well as her eyes being redder than before.

She scanned her reflection. She’s always hated her face. Her nose was too big for her liking, her lips were too plump, and her eyes were small. She liked the color but wished they were bigger so they could be seen better. Her hair didn’t have volume despite the constant Charms she casted to make it look more full.

She looked gross.

She turned away, brain already taking a mental image of her appearance, labeling each flaw of her face until she couldn’t see the image anymore. She dug her hands into the hair she hated, tugging at the strands and yelling inside her brain to shut the hell up.

But as usual it didn’t, it just smirked at her as it re-read the list of things wrong with her. She would die before it was finished, the never ending enumeration lasting centuries.

Fat

Stupid

Worthless

Stupid

Dumb

Weird

Stupid

The tears flowed senselessly, her cheeks so raw she couldn’t feel them falling anymore.

“You again? You do know this is the boys bathroom, right? Or are you just dumb. Honestly, all that food going to your head?”

A dark chuckle followed the remark, making her hold her breath at the cold voice behind her. She looked around, noticing it was the boys bathroom, and she didn’t realize before since she was too busy trying to breathe.

She turned around, puffy red teary eyes meeting his.

The smirk seemed to wipe off his face. He took a small step forward, his robes coming into the soft light that was on, causing her to once again see the jam stains. He tried to chuckle nervously to break the tension but he failed miserably.

“Woah, you oka-”

“Go to hell, Malfoy.” She spat, wet lips feeling like she didn’t just lick them, but like water was flowing out of her mouth. Like her lungs were full of water, gurgling her voice as she tried to breathe. Her feet were touching the sandy bottom now, the coldness of the water that never saw daylight chilling her skin in the most intense way. Her toes tried to hopelessly kick off the rocky bottom but she just sank back down, limbs pathetically moving in the liquid around her.

She picked up her bag in her hands, it feeling like a weight in the river that was flooding her body at the moment. She exited the bathroom with quick yet shaky legs, lungs still swollen with pain and the strong desire and need to take a breath.

The Slytherin that was left behind, the boy above the surface and constantly seeing the sun, stood utter less. His feet felt cold on the tile beneath him and his lungs took normal full breaths.

He wanted to walk and rush after the girl, he wanted to bend over the river and touch its surface, hand wanting to feel she desperate fingertips. But she was already at the bottom, so sticking his arm in wouldn’t be of any use.

He wanted to jump in and swim to the bottom, limbs moving as the water got colder against his pale skin, turning it even whiter, but he wouldn’t be able to make it that far down without coming up for a breath.

But he was the reason for her being in the river in the first place, or at least going from being foot deep to being at the bottom, feet grazing the sand.

And yet his feet were glued to the ground, silver eyes dulled over with a light grey, fading his eyesight.

His lips parted for a gentle breath, one he knew she couldn’t take, and picked a spot on the tile to stare at until his brain started up again.

The thorns were piercing his hands, blood already flowing down his wrist, the red looking bright as ever in his pale skin.

His black dress shoes took him through the huffing grass, the air kinda breezy but the colors of plants were nice for his grey eyes. The cement was evermore, row after row in the grassy ground. He knew which one he was looking for, yet not quite the place.

The name in stone was bright and noticeable, for he could recognize something like that from centuries away.

He bent down, knees crackling and elbows resting on the end of his thighs. He first set down the jar in his hand, turning it so he saw the picture of the strawberry to represent what flavor jam it was. He then set down the roses, deep red in color that set free the pain in his hand that he was doing a good job at ignoring.

He huffed before taking a nice long full breath for her, giving her a taste of crisp air that she wasn’t able to experience.

“They’re beautiful,” he whispered, gesturing to the flowers that he set down, the black ribbon around the stems mocking him. “Just like you, loves.”

-Like, reblog, and comment to make me happy!🫶🏻

#imagines #stories #x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #tom felton x reader

[whorety-k]

Hello! If you get the inspiration to do so, would you write something with Roboute Guilliman + Gát from Azahriah. I think the song would fit him.

Also on another note, I love Ebony Coasts💜💜 Looking forward to the next part!

Nothing shows my absolutely awful schedule like Ebony Coasts having finished before I even got to your ask my love I am SO SORRY

I had never listened to anything in Hungarian before this point so this was actually really pleasant for me. This song got me in a mood to destroy that blueberry though, so please forgive me.

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman (40K) x gn!Reader

Song Inspiration: Gát - Azahriah [Youtube] [Spotify] [Original Hungarian] “Ezért nincsen bennem már szimpátia / Elmegyek én bárhova, ha hívnak / Mert érezni akarom, amit régen / Mert régen tönkrement valami bent / Valami bent, valaki bennem.”

[English Translation] “That's why there's no sympathy in me / I go anywhere if they call me / because I want to feel what I felt before / Because in the past something broke inside / something inside, something in me.”

Warnings: Angst, Guilliman’s struggle to adapt to a new Imperium, relationship falling apart, heated argument, hurt / no comfort

Word Count: 2.5k (THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE 1000 OOPS)

The office light was dim, drained of warmth. Roboute could barely keep his eyes focused on his papers anymore, with how each stack continued to mesh and meld together in his mind. A request for aid in the Yannsi system. Reports of ork activity along an Imperial supplyway. Another noble house asking for his audience for a vaguely stupid reason in their horse-and-pony show. With a sigh, he pushed the expensive looking envelope off of the table and into the waste bin. 

Guilliman grew tired of it all.

But, in the name of the Imperium, he pushed onwards. Sheet after sheet, datapad after datapad, vox after vox.

He nearly missed the knock that rapped against the frame of the office doorway, timid and gentle. How he hadn’t seen them enter was either a show of focus or a token to his weariness, usually laser-focused senses dulled as day after day of piling issues droned by. Guilliman picks his head up out of his hands, rolling loose circles into his temples with his index and middle fingers. “Come in,” he beckons.

Your quiet footsteps echo in the chamber built to the size of a primarch. The scents of exhaustion and old sweat permeate the air, for even a being handcrafted by the Emperor himself is subject to the soil of exertion. 

Guilliman’s eyes soften substantially from their stress-induced glower as you draw near, but it’s not enough to fully smooth the deep-set furrow in his brow, or the everlasting scowl on his face. “My love, has something happened that needs my attention?” he inquires, leaning forward to get a better look at you. You stand before him in your favorite robe: a simple yet practical garment that he had gifted you for a holiday celebration, ultramarine blue silks embroidered with golden laurels along the neckline. He would give you so much more if you didn’t feel so guilty at receiving his affections, always so concerned with any excess spending given the state of the Imperium. He was too— more than you ever could be— but you were supposed to be his space away from the mess. It frustrated him to no end to be reminded of his family’s failings when he was actively trying to find an escape from it, and especially because he shouldn’t have you. 

You should have been long dead. After the failed Siege of Terra and the end of the Heresy, Guilliman had found you, a noble agent, desperately working far beyond your capacities within the Imperial Palace to keep things running. A tense friendship blossomed into an awkward, complicated relationship with private moments stolen whenever fate would allow. Neither of you were able or willing to put a label to it, given your pre-existing devotion to fixing the weakened state of the Imperium. Your knowledge of the parties both behind and beyond the Imperial walls proved invaluable to helping the Ultramarines hold it together, and Guilliman could not have been more grateful for your help. Roboute planned to express his gratitude and formally request your hand after your return from a diplomatic mission to help secure support from some of the world less affected by the heresy.

He never got the opportunity to do so. On the return voyage to Terra, your ship had been ambushed and knocked loose of its path in the warp. Your anticipated arrival date had come and passed, and no one heard any word from your vessel. Within an instant, any hope of creating a better future with you had been indirectly or directly ripped from him by his traitorous brothers, just as it had been before.

Roboute thought he had all but moved on by the time he was struck down by Fulgrim, thought had finally shaken the silent longing when he finally awoke from his ten millenia stasis into the disaster the Imperium of Man had become. The hellscape he has been thrust into gave him no time to dwell on any of the things he had lost ten-thousand years ago. It did not matter how hollow or angry he felt when everyone galaxy-wide was demanding something of him, and who better than the Avenging Son to fill the role? 

The day the vox came in that a ship with a downright ancient signature had entered Terra’s orbit is one he would never forget. Guilliman was prepared to have it destroyed, certain that the vessel had been overrun with chaos, but the sound of your voice asking for him over the vox channels stopped him. His hearts seized in his chest when you recognized him.

Roboute, is that you?

It’s been years. We just found a way out.

Roboute, can you hear me?

“Roboute.”

His head snaps up from his daze, not noticing how he had begun to nod off, lost in his ruminations. He hadn’t made the mistake of not asking for your hand soon enough a second time. The stern tone of voice alerts him that he’s missed whatever you had said before, and he sits forward again to reengage.. “I’m sorry, love. I am listening,” Roboute says, letting out the breath he had been holding.

You shake your head, gaze falling to the floor for a brief instant before your eyes find his again. “I asked you to come to bed, Roboute. You haven’t left the office for days, and I know you’re tired.” You call attention to his lapse with a gesture of the hand.

Guilliman’s scowl deepens, looking down at the paper before him on his desk. As tempting as that offer was... “I cannot, love. I am sorry.”

“Will there be a day I don’t hear that?” you rebut, stepping closer to his desk. Your head only barely hovers above it as you come near, resting a hand on the varnished wood. “Or shall I keep hoping?”

The primarch scoffs, taken aback at the rhetoric. He didn’t dismiss you that often… did he? His blue eyes burn into yours, expression hardening. “My work is important. It isn’t something I can just stop and abscond from. You know this.”

You fold your arms in response, doubling down. “Are these the conditions in which you can do your best work? Barely able to keep your head up?” 

For once, Guilliman can’t argue. His shoulders are tight, his neck tired and sore from staring down at a desk for longer than a baseline human could even stay away without death. His eyes stopped burning after a certain point, now nearly numb. He tries to blink the feeling away, only to struggle with opening his eyes again.

It doesn’t go unnoticed under your gaze. “Come to bed, Roboute,” you plead, resting your chin upon his desk. Sapphires of the softest cobalt land on you, and you reach a hand out toward him. Your drowsy voice continues, “I hardly ever see you outside of this dreaded space. I don’t remember the last time we shared a bed together.”

His massive hand dwarfs your own when he takes it, stroking the delicate skin of the back of your hand. “I would like to join you– truly, I would– but I cannot afford to step away from this,” Guilliman asserts, voice gentle yet firm in his decision.

Your expression falls, as it always does. Guilliman expects you to nod your head and concede as you normally did, letting go of your hand to pick up a pencil once more. He finds the starting line of the report and begins to peruse the document. The Lord Governor of the—

“When will it be enough?”

Guilliman tenses up, tearing his gaze away from the words he was reading. Your voice completely blindsides him, and he isn’t even sure if he’s certain he heard what you said. “I’m sorry?” he asks.

“When will you have done enough, Roboute?” you repeat, stepping away from the wooden desk. As your full body comes into view, he can see how your limbs tremble with emotion. “When will you have reached a point that you are truly satisfied with what you’ve done?” you challenge, crossing your arms over your chest once again. Your knuckles blanch with the force you grip yourself with.

It’s the second time you manage to render Guilliman completely speechless. When is enough, enough? He gawks as he looks you over, eyes jumping between your upset form and the page before him. It’s a question he didn’t allow himself to dwell on, unable to find a satisfactory answer. It has been, is, and always will be his responsibility to convert the raw data of a problem into something with a detailed solution; it was his strongest skill as a leader. He can stop when there are solutions.

You interrupt his train of thought with another siren call, holding eye contact as you tempt him away once more with your sweet voice. “Your standards you hold yourself to are honorable, but even the great Roboute Guilliman, son of the Emperor of Mankind, requires his rest.” 

And by the throne, he does. He well and truly does. Guilliman could use another ten thousand years in status if it wouldn’t make his problems any worse. Instead, though, he’s content to finish one more paper and go to bed. Finally, he nods, pushing aside a stack of documents to start tomorrow. It seems that Roboute would be the one conceding today, muttering, “I will join you shortly.”

Unfortunately for him, you aren’t having any of it. “No, you will come now,” you demand, putting your foot down. You continue, stern tone softening, “Please, if not for you, take care of yourself for me.”

The words make Guilliman’s head throb, irritation threatens to flare within him as the words cause an uncomfortable roiling within his chest. He buries his head into his hands with a grunt– it’s all he can do to prevent an annoyed growl of, “everything I do is for you,” from leaving him. Instead, he takes a deep breath and tries to cool his temper. “This final document is just a report from another world. It won’t take me long,” he promises.

“Then it can wait until tomorrow,” you argue, fed up with the barrage of excuses to continue. “I am serious, Roboute. One world’s ‘report’ is not the end-all, be-all of the Imperium. I know that you are under a lot of strain to fix the mess we’re in–”

Guilliman abruptly sits up, chair flying back as he stands to full height. You can barely perceive the flash movement before the clash of the chair hitting the wall makes you jump. “And you could possibly hope to understand?” Guilliman spits, slamming his hands onto the table. The shout of the primarch instinctually drowns you in dread, and you’re unable to stop the reflexive trembling that kicks in as you stare up at him. Guilliman is furious, all of the signs of exhaustion he had exhibited so plainly before replaced with vitriol. He continues, voice laced with venom, “You could hope to understand what it is to be left with the bloated corpse of my father’s legacy, forced to pick up the pieces as nothing but a tool in his stead as everything he fought for has been so thoroughly perverted? When the mere thought of how things were before is now heresy, despite those fanatics worshiping a book written by a traitor?” His breathing labors, desk creaking precariously with the force he’s exerting upon it. At your lack of response, Guilliman scoffs again. “No,” he growls, turning away, “your mind couldn’t begin to fathom the depths of the pressure placed upon me.”

Your eyes burn with tears, cheeks warm and wet. The outburst leaves you completely shaken, clutching at your sides like a cornered animal. The sight alone fills Roboute with remorse, but you don’t give him the chance to apologize. “I was there,” you utter through shaky breaths. Roboute’s mouth clamps shut. “I lived the old Imperium, picked up the pieces of it beside you. Do you think this has been easy for me?” you press, unable to look the primarch in the eye. “I spent five years in the warp, unsure of whether or not I would ever leave it. Would I die there? Would I find a fate worse? What if one of your brothers was to find me?” Each word punches him in his chest, hearts heavy with the weight of instant regret. He can see how you tremble as you relive what you went through, all at the cost of his loud mouth. “I never gave up, even when so many others had, driven to insanity or the depths of depression. I continued to fight when even the Astartes had one-by-one resigned themselves to fate.” Hot tears roll down your cheeks, and you begin to find confidence in your words as your fear turns into rage, jabbing an accusatory finger in Guilliman’s direction. “I survived to find you again, and I have done nothing but stand by your side and help you try to make heads or tails of the absolute fucking mess we’re in. Does that mean nothing?”

Guilliman doesn’t look away from you as you verbally lash into him. Despite his pride, he knows you’re right. You haven’t truly been wrong once this evening, and in his stubbornness, he has only managed to make everything worse for the both of you. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Of course you didn’t, because you’ve only been thinking about yourself and what will become of you. Will your torment ever end?” you spit back, cutting him off. He bows his head, lips drawn tight. Tense silence fills the room as your words hang heavy in his mind. You shake your head, letting out a muffled sob. “I will be in the bedroom when you remember yourself, Roboute Guilliman.” 

With that, you turn on your heel and march out of the room, leaving Guilliman alone in the office with his thoughts. He can only stare at the doorway before the rush of the moment leeches out of him, causing him to slump down into his chair. Guilt claws in his chest, up his throat like an angry badger. His head spins as it fills with everything he should have said, should have done, instead of making a damned fool of himself. The rift between the two of you grew evermore.

Guilliman picks up his pencil from the floor, drawing the planetary report in front of him so he can focus again on the only thing he’s actually sure he’s worthy of anymore: fixing logistics.

#roboute guilliman #roboute guilliman x reader #guilliman x reader #ultramarines #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 30k #primarch #primarch x reader #warhammer fanfic #raven lady writings

[creadigol]

Hello i just recently found this blog and i'm in love with your writing.

Can you please continue the hero x villain story with the criminal please?

I am so sorry for the long wait…but here it finally is! Thank you so much for the ask! I hope y’all like part 2! 

*Warning for slight flashbacks of a traumatic event, but nothing bad.

Part One here.

“Once again Detective, I have no answers to your questions, I have no clue where they are, and if you don’t leave my property within the next thirty seconds I claim the right to shoot you for trespassing.” 

 Hero heard the voice below them speak with little attempt at patience. Their eyes were heavy and their body felt like lead, but their ears seemed to awaken with no problem. Why would Villain be threatening to shoot Detective? Hero had thought the two tended to keep out of each other’s way. Wait, why was Hero asleep in the same vicinity as Villain in the first place? 

“I know you have them! All accounts place you following Hero into the house! Dammit Villain! What happened?” 

God, Hero had never heard Detective so worked up before. The man was usually made of stone, even in the face of absolute evil. Hell, Hero once saw the man play a game of russian roulette with a mob boss and win through sheer intimidation. How had Villain got him so worked up? Of course they were enemies, being on opposite sides of a moral code tended to do that…but they had never been outright hostile to each other. 

“Fifteen…sixteen…seventeen…” Villain counted. Hero could just picture them casually looking at their watch while unholstering a weapon. 

“Fine!” Screamed Detective. “But don’t think I won’t be back! I’ll not rest until Hero is found!” 

Hero heard the stomping of boot heels on the walk. 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have lost them in the first place!” Villain yelled back. 

“Fuck you!” 

Hero fought to open their eyes. They moved their fingers and toes, feeling like they were some kind of mummy awakening after centuries of death. 

What was Detective talking about? Hero was right here. They had just finished up another case for them when…

The memory flashed before their eyes…the Criminal…the knife…that goddamn smile as Hero bled onto the kitchen floor…the fear…Villain!

No amount of lead in their veins could keep them down at the thought. Hero shot out of the plush bed with speed their body was not ready for. 

The window to their right was open, that must be how they heard the conversation at the front door, and Hero stumbled towards it. It took a moment, as their foot got caught in the exceptionally soft bedspread, but they made it. 

Hero stood to the side, not wanting anyone outside to see them in such a state of weakness…nor did they want Detective to see them…and looked out. Sure enough, this was Villains street…at least this was the street of their safe house. Hero had found it six months ago while following Villain after a deal gone wrong. They had just wanted to make sure Villain wasn’t too beat up…they ended up staying all night wrapping the Villains wounds. 

Hero assumed Villain would have changed houses after that. Guess not. 

Hero watched as Detective stomped angrily to his silver sedan. Now how had Detective found the safe house? And why did he not just raid the place? Why put up with Villain’s taunts if he knew Hero was here? 

Hero took stock of the room. It was a nice bedroom, rather typical. Blue walls and a matching white and blue quilt. There was a small dresser, night stand and desk that looked like they were bought together at the local Big Lots. Nothing expensive, like how Villain usually liked. Nothing gleaming of elegance or gilding. Nothing special…but comfortable. Actually really comfortable. And kind of cute. 

Nothing at all like Villain. 

A shuffling outside the bedroom door made Hero stiffen. The door opened revealing Villain, still muttering to themselves about ‘nosy, pain in the ass detectives’. Hero stayed frozen by the window. 

Villain was carrying a tray with a sup and bowl on it, something steaming from the bowl when they glanced at the bed and saw it was empty. 

“Shit!” They swung around frantically, somehow not spilling anything, and immediately laid eyes on Hero. 

“Hero!” Villain gasped. They placed the tray on the nightstand as the tension in their shoulders released. “What in the hell are you doing up? Do you have any idea wha…”

“Where am I?” Hero interrupted them. Villain froze. “What the hell is going on?” 

Villain’s eyebrows scrunched. “Hero…” They started. “Do you remember what happened? I mean, I understand if not…” 

“Of course I remember,” Hero snapped. “But that does not explain why I’m in your safe house or why Detective was here.” 

“Fuck. I knew his voice carried,” muttered Villain. They looked at Hero, seeming to take in their appearance, which Hero felt was probably not great. “You were stabbed Hero. It was bad…really bad. I had to heal you, but…” Villain gestured vaguely. 

“You redirected my body’s energy to heal the wound,” Hero finished. That’s why they were sleeping. That’s why they had no energy to spare. 

“You should still be out,” Villain said as they walked forward. “I estimated at least another week, if not more. Had planned on Doctor giving you an IV tonight.” 

Hero looked down at themselves and took stock of their appearance. Their hair was down, though that had happened during their scuffle with Criminal, and their arms were bruised. Finger prints littered their wrists and elbows. They lifted the front of their t-shirt and glanced at their stomach. Only a slight discoloration showed any sign of the life threatening injury they had received. 

“How long was I out?” 

“Four days. Detective’s been following me incessantly after they couldn’t find you in that damn house.” 

Villain had walked to only an arm's length away. Seeming reluctant to come any closer, yet holding themselves as if to reach out. 

“Followed you here I see,” Hero said. They traced their fingers over the discoloration on their stomach. 

“Unfortunately.” 

Hero let the shirt fall back down and only then comprehended their attire.

“Did you dress me in your pajamas?” Hero asked incredulously. 

Villain laughed, “Well your clothes were ruined and there wasn’t much else here.”

“You didn’t…” Hero gave them a look that promised quick vengeance should they hear the wrong answer to their question. 

“I was perfectly professional, I assure you. Nothing but doctoring on my part.” Villain clapped them on the shoulder. “You should get back to bed though. You still need time to recover.” 

Hero was feeling faint standing, so they agreed and got back into the bed. They got situated under the covers, but sat up by the headboard. Villain stood hovering for a moment before stepping back.

“Why did Detective need to follow you? Why not just tell him I’m here?” Hero eyed Villain as they fiddled with the covered steaming bowl, “Not like saving my life is very illegal. Unless you..you know.” 

Hero didn’t finish as they thought about Villain’s words to them before they passed out. 

Best not to look to your right though…you have too fair a disposition to look at Criminal now.

“Criminal’s alive,” Villain spoke as if reading their mind. “Did my best, but the bastard lived.” 

Hero felt their insides freeze. 

You really are perfect aren't you?

Let’s not prolong this dear. 

“They’re secured in the hospital ward of the prison.” Villain sat down on the edge of the bed and placed their hand over Hero’s pale one. “You got enough for the case while you were undercover. Better than a confession.” 

Villain made eye contact, “They’re never getting out Hero. And if they did, I would finish the job.” 

Hero smiled softly. “I have no doubt you would finish the job now if I asked.” 

Villain chuckled, “Wouldn’t be the worst job I ever took.” 

“But why Detective?” Asked Hero. 

“But why Detective what?” Villain said. They patted Hero’s hand and got up to go back to the tray once more. 

“Why lie about saving me?” 

Villain took the top off the bowl and Hero saw that it contained hot water and a white cloth. 

“Should have known you’d have heard that. Damn hearing.” 

“Why?” Hero pressed. 

Villain handed them a hair tie. “Because I don’t trust him. Or at least I don’t trust who he works for.” 

Hero pulled their hair into a bun. “Why?”

Villain swirled the cloth through the water a couple of times. Hero could smell what they assumed were salts or oils mixed in. 

“They never should have called you in,” Villain spoke.

Hero reached out for the cloth, “They call me in all the time.” 

The cloth stayed in Villain’s hand, submerged in water. “They don’t for the petty stuff.” 

“Well this wasn’t exactly petty. Criminal was the killer we’ve been looking for.” 

“Exactly!” The water sloshed with Villain’s outburst. “All the victims look like you. All the Criminal’s ‘types’ look like you. Every outfit, hair style, and mannerism was just like you. Criminal’s had an obsession for a while Hero and those bastards banked on it.” 

Hero faltered. 

“You’re saying they tricked me to get them?” 

“I’m saying something’s going on and until we figure it out you’re not safe to go back.” 

“Damn.” 

Villain handed them the warm cloth. “Yeah…damn.” 

The scent infused water felt heavenly on Hero’s neck and face. They wondered if this was how Villain kept them clean while they slept. 

“So what do we do?” 

“You,” Villain pointed, “rest. At least for the next couple of days.”

“And you?” Hero handed the cloth back. 

“I’m going to pay the good Commissioner a little visit this week.” 

#writers #creative writing #writing community #creadigol #character creation #heros and villains #original writing #villains and heroes #writing promt #dialogue prompt #hero and villain #hero x villain #hero x villain community #heroes and villains #antagonist #original story #villain x civilian #Detective #hero #heroes #continuation #@midnightrosesblog

[noveauskull]

Tysm for feeding us with ur wuwa smut fics bro <33 and btw since requests r open as u said, can u pls write the NSFW reaction of wuwa men when their fem s/o is always half-naked when their both home alone?? Lol, and if they ask why their s/o is so relaxed to just roam and walk around their private home nearly naked, s/o just shrugs her shoulders and says something like: “We’re a couple, now— are we not? I don’t see the problem here.” EHHEEHEEHHEHHEHEH >:333 (Again tysmsmmss amd have a good day/noon! 🫶)

How WUWA Men React When You Walk Around The House Half-Naked (NSFW)

characters: jiyan, mortefi, geshu lin, yuanwu, scar, aalto, calcharo x reader

warnings: suggestive behavior, teasing, not really all the way, just a short post, nsfw

-----

Scar:

He doesn't mind when you walk around half naked, matter of fact he'd go walking around half naked with you

You just know that he's purposely trying to hug you just to feel your skin on his

Somehow the two of you would end up fucking

"Why bother wearing clothes at this point?"

Sometimes he even rubs himself on you while you're half naked, sick pervert

He encourages it a lot

-----

Yuanwu:

He's flustered by your confidence, but glad enough you trust him to see your body

Despite being a gentleman, he is still a man, so he'd often times stare at you while having a nice sip of tea

"Aren't you cold?" You were in fact, not cold at all. The only shivers you get is when you feel a pair of eyes on you

Suddenly he's smiling at you and offering you to help him get his glasses in the bedroom

And now he's pinning your hands to your head and kissing you

You didn't mean to be provocative, but it happened anyways

-----

Mortefi:

"WHERE ARE YOUR CLOTHES?"

He's panicked at first but he gets used to it later, a bit of a drama king but when you pointed out on him revealing his chest he just blushes and sighs in defeat

Definitely ogling at you, he especially loves the way he could see your boobs when you're only in your bra

At one point when he stands too close to you he's already pinning you to the wall and kissing you

"If this is your way of teasing me then it's working" He's say while blushing profusely

-----

Jiyan:

He's shocked but he doesn't say anything, instead he just tries to avoid staring at you and hopes you'd out some clothes on

But you don't, you're still in your underwear and it's getting really bad for his heart to see you walking around so freely

When he feels like he wants to talk to you about it, he'll wrap his arms around your waist and make you stare into his eyes and ask you if you were interested in going to bed together to fuck

And of course you say yes, cause he's already slipping his hand down to grope your ass, leaving you no choice

Jiyan likes it when you wear less in front of him

-----

Aalto:

He starts acting like he saw you for the first time and starts flirting with you

You didn't expect him to wrap his arm around you and slip his hand into your bra though

Now he's trying to have a conversation with you while he's teasing your nipple, just so you would get wet

"Oops, almost forgot about my food in the microwave" He stands up and leaves you alone on the couch, wet and confused

But you're definitely gonna keep walking around half naked, that's for sure

-----

Geshu Lin:

"What do you think you are doing?"

He acts like he has a problem with it but when you remind him that its only the two of you and that he's already seen your body suddenly hes fine with it

But he will still complain about it

Eventually he gets tired of complaining and just carries you to bed, telling you that now that he's hard you have to take responsibility for it

Tsundere Geshu Lin?

-----

Calcharo:

He's like a big dog, staring at his owner and wondering what to do or say

For some reason, he'd start putting blankets or towels on you

"Is this a new way to make me turned on?"

Before you know it he's fucking you with the same clothes you had on half naked

He ends up wanting you to walk around the house half naked anyways

-----

A/N: SORRY FOR MAKING IT SHORT ANON I HAVE A LOT OF THINGS TO DO AND IM PUSHING OUT REQUESTS SO THIS IS PROBABLY NOT SATISFACTORY BUT I HOPE MY OTHER POSTS MAKES IT UP TO YOU 😭😭

#wuthering waves #wuthering waves smut #wuwa #wuwa smut #wuwa jiyan #jiyan smut #wuwa calcharo #calcharo smut #wuwa mortefi #mortefi smut #wuwa geshu lin #geshu lin smut #wuwa scar #scar smut #wuwa yuanwu #yuanwu smut #wuwa aalto #aalto smut #answeredbyskull #noveauskull #wuthering waves x you #wuthering waves x reader

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter One

Pairing: Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest. Now, with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans bring you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut 

Word Count: 67+ and counting

Chapters: 10/??

Warnings: Minors DNI! 18+! May contain disturbing, gruesome, and graphic sexual scenes. Graphic violence. Blood. Obsession. Mentions of abuse. Mentions of substance abuse. Trigger warnings will be given at the beginning of each chapter. 

Author note: This is my first attempt at a fanfic, but I was just so inspired and wanted to post it somewhere after writing like +67K words (and counting). So here goes nothing I guess?

Chapter One - The Commercial

“Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear…”  - Mahatma Gandhi

Your fingers find the brass handle as anxiety builds in the back of your throat. 

Are you nervous? Why are you nervous? The commercial seemed so inviting and everyone seemed so nice - even if it was a bit glitchy in some frames. If they are indeed as altruistic as they appear, then you’ll be fine! 

But, what if they don’t accept you? 

Nonsense, you just need to show that you care, that you can help. After all, Princess Morningstar wouldn’t turn help away, would she? You were there in the courtyard a few days ago when Heaven’s clock ticked down from one year to 6 months: 182 days right before your eyes. Damn… But it gave you an opening - a reason to repent as opposed to just showing up out of the blue and inventing some backstory in an attempt to explain your sudden desire to achieve redemption. It was an opportunity you couldn’t refuse. 

“Okay, so the Extermination is coming in six months instead of a year. No big deal…” 

As you stepped into the Hotel, you couldn’t help but be underwhelmed by the state of the place. From the outside it seemed big and glamorous - despite the random bits of cell phone tower and… was that a mast from a ship? On the inside, it was worse. Way worse. It wasn’t gross, it was an array of stuff… that was probably the best way to put it. The carpet was torn, the wallpaper peeling, parts of the wall had been tacked together with newer planks of wood to repair unknown sources of damage. It was… Well at least it didn’t smell… that bad… 

Emerging into the foyer, small suitcase in hand - after all, you didn’t own much - you searched for the front desk, but the only thing resembling any sort of check-in area was a bar where a cat-bird thing was organizing bottles. 

To your left was a small inlet before a fireplace, fit with television and radio where two demons sat, listening to a blonde haired bellhop pace.

“… well just handle it! Right!?” The girl grabbed at her hair.

No, not a bellhop. Princess Charlie Morningstar. God, she looked just like her dad. The only thing she got from Lilith was her height. Probably a good thing…

Your heart sank at the sight of her. Biting back the flood of memories threatening to spill down your face, you take a deep breath and enter. 

“Yes,” a grey demon stood, a waterfall of dark hair brushed the floor as she walked. “We will.” She grabs Charlie’s shoulders, forcing her to stop pacing. 

They still hadn’t noticed you. Was this eavesdropping? Were you being rude? That wouldn’t make for a great first impression. 

You took a few hesitant steps forward hoping they’d hear your heels clack against the wood.

“Oh please,” the spider-looking thing sitting on the couch scoffed, staring down at his phone as he talked. “Ya’ had less than half a chance before you started all this salvation bullshit. And now… ain’t no silver linin’, toots.” 

You cleared your throat, having practically snuck up on the group. 

“Oh my gosh!” The blonde squeaked as the grey demon with ridiculously long hair pulled a spear on you, stepping before the Princess. 

You dropped the suit case immediately, raising your arms to show you meant no harm.

“Who are you? What are you doing sneaking around?” She demanded.

Your eyes flit to the “X” eye patch, then to the silver tip mere inches from your nose.

Oh shit, this girl’s the Fallen. Relax, you accounted for that. So long as she doesn’t recognize you…

“I’m sorry!” You squeak, taking a half step back. She follows, her spear not leaving your face. “I tried making noise but you must not have heard me. I was just looking to check-in but…”

“Huh!” The Princess gasped so loud it made your ears pop. 

Pushing the ex-Exorcist - huh, funny - aside the blond grabs your shoulders and squeezes. “Are you a guest!?” Her eyes sparkled. 

“Well, yeah. I was hoping…” you didn’t get a chance to finish before she brought you into a hug so tight you couldn’t breathe. She lifted you off your feet and spun you in a circle before placing you back on the ground. 

“Yay! Vaggie, our very first guest!” She sang. 

“Hey!” The spider finally looked up from his phone. “I’m sittin’ right ‘ere ya’ know?” 

Did he have six eyes or two? Hard to tell but the pink dots decorating his face blinked when he did. 

Creepy.

“Okay, hun,” the Fallen drops her spear, taking Charlie by the arm in an endearing way, but you really knew it was to hold her back. “Let’s give our guest some space. Let her breathe. She can’t be redeemed if you suffocate her and she dies… Again.” 

“Right,” she laughs, reigning herself in. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” Her arms fan out to the room, gesturing to the rundown establishment. 

You musture a genuine smile, not because you’re impressed with the place but because the Princess’ happiness was infectious.

“My name is Charlie!” She takes your hand in hers.

“My name is Thestral,” you answer between the vigorous shakes rolling up your arm. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” the Fallen pulls Charlie away from you. “I’m Vaggie. The guy on the couch is Angel and Husk is behind the bar.” 

Angel gives you a mindless wave, frowning at something on his phone. The bar cat tips his hat to you before pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

Was the bartender supposed to drink the supply? Also, wasn’t it barely nine in the morning? 

“Let me get your bag!” Charlie snatches the hardback suitcase before you have a chance to protest. Dragging you by the elbow, she insists upon a tour.

The Hotel was cute - if not a weird hodgepodge of thrown together dimensions. The bar was clearly cut from somewhere else, the piano room is definitely not of this century, and don’t get you started on the pool. All in all however, it was cute. You could see yourself here, in the library reading late at night with a glass of red, in the music room practicing your piano, on the back balcony enjoying the breeze and screams of innocents. It wasn’t perfect - nothing compared to the luxury you experienced before Hell - but it felt home-y. 

“This is you!” Charlie pulls a key from her pocket as she stops before a door. “Angel is to the left and Alastor is just across the hall.” Grabbing your arm once more, she drags you inside.

It’s cute but humble - something you’d expect from a bed and breakfast and not a city hotel. The room is huge, with a four post bed wrapped in white sheets, neatly tucked into the sides military style. To your left is a small sitting area with a couch and coffee table. Past that were two doors, one leading to a small walk-in closet and the other a tile bathroom.

Frankly, coming from sharing a cramped city apartment in Cannibal Town to this was a huge step up as far as you were concerned. 

“Here you are!” She dropped a black key in your hand, a cat’s eye decorating the handle. Finally, a room to call your own. “Nifty cleans on Sundays and…”

“Wait, my room gets cleaned?” You scrunched your nose in confusion. 

“Of course! We don’t want you to have anything to worry about when you stay with us. Redemption is the goal, afterall!” Charlie sang. 

That was going to be a problem… 

Charlie stood staring at you for a long moment, her eyes sparkling in the low light. Her hands cupped her chin as she smiled at you with such emotion you were surprised her face didn’t split in half right there. She looked like a small child, waiting for a candy bar or something. 

God, you didn’t realize how enthusiastic she would be about all this. Now is definitely not the time to tell her you had no intentions of being redeemed. You were just here for the chaos. Frankly, any normal person would feel guilty right about now, but not you. 

Oh, you had far bigger plans for Ms. Morningstar, she just didn’t know it yet. 

“Okay,” Vaggie steps up, grabbing her by the collar. “We’ll let you get unpacked. It’s Sunday so brunch is at eleven in the kitchen. We’ll come get you and show you the way. If you need anything there’s a rotary phone by the bed, just call Husk at the bar. He’s always there…” 

“A rotary phone?” You scrunch your nose.

Sure enough, a black rotary phone sat on the bedside table. What century was this? Cannibal Town was stuck in the 1900s but at least they had cell phones. 

“Yeah, the Hotel Manager is a bit outdated with his tastes…” Vaggie grumbles. You sensed tension in her comment but didn’t ask for further details.

“Anyway!” Charlie puts a hand on your shoulder. “We’re really, REALLY glad you’re here.” She breathed in your face, her voice cracking with the threat of tears. 

God, she even had Lucifer’s mannerisms…

You huffed, blowing off the extra emotions her smile pushed into you. “Thank you for taking me in.”

Watching as the Exorcist pulled the Princess back down the hallway, you shut your door and collapsed against the wood. 

“Fuck,” you breathed. Charlie was going to be someone you could only handle in small doses. 

The Princess definitely didn’t recognize you and neither did Vaggie. She might be Hell Royalty but she was oblivious. 

Did she know about Vaggie? Maybe she did and has already accepted it. This place is about second chances after all. 

It didn’t take you long to unpack, after all you didn’t have many personal possessions. A few sets of clothes, some boots and heels, your toiletries and makeup… The suitcase was only half full when you packed it with every possession you owned. Now all you could do was stand before the mirror in the bathroom and stare at yourself as the anxiety began to build again. You fixed your red lipstick over and over until it drove you mad. Throwing the makeup back into your bag, your mind turned to your outfit. 

You were dressed in black slacks which sat high on your hips, fanning out at your legs. Tucked into your waistband was a white button up, giving you the hourglass appearance. Your silver hair was twisted into a bun at the back of your head, a metal clip holding it in place. Your eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, your yellow irises emitting their own form of light. 

Out of all the animalistic appearances in Hell, you were gifted the rare form of a somewhat normal human shape. No tail, no ears, no horns - well, in your normal state anyway. It was just you, with skin as pale white as Charlie’s and a nose tipped in black. You stood a normal five foot four, but in heels you could argue five and a half. You didn’t have canines as sharp and distinct as others, but hey who needed them? You preferred fighting with your hands, anyway. 

Frankly, you were boring compared to the Sinners and Natives of Hell. The most interesting note was the tattoo which spanned your back from shoulder blades to your hips, but that wasn’t important at the moment. 

Your mind returned to your clothes again. They were nice, nothing too flashy and definitely not Velvette brand, but were they too much? Weekend brunches in Cannibal Town were always such a classy affair, something you were expected to dress up for despite the messy array of food which was served. 

Was that expected here? 

As if on cue, a door opens in the hallway and footsteps echo across the carpet. 

Perhaps you should ask. 

Racing to the door, you peak your head out to find Angel heading to the stairs, his nose stuck in his phone. 

“Uhm, excuse me?” You chirp. It was barely audible and he wasn’t paying attention but you were a new voice, which definitely drew him from whatever battle was playing itself out on his screen. 

“Oh, hey!” He tucked the cell phone back into his pocket. His face contorted into a smile, he was doing his best not to show his frustration but it was still quite obvious. “They put ya’ right next to me aye?” He leans against the doorframe, one arm on the wall, the other three at his hips. “Just a fair warning. I can get a little loud. If ya’ know what I mean?” He winks at you, a knowing smile spreading across his sharp teeth as he elbows your side.

God, he was tall, he’d have to be like six foot three or something. 

Up close, and with his attention fully on you, you could finally study his eyes: right eye sclera black, left white. Someone owned him, but with restrictive conditions. 

You already knew the answer: Valentino. Hey, what can ya’ say? You did your homework. 

“Do you guys dress up for brunch or is it more casual?” You smiled, doing your best not to stare at the pink dots blinking back at you on his cheeks. Still creepy. 

“Oh, uh, I dunno, toots. I normally just go in whatever I have on.” He gestured to his pink striped shirt and long boots. 

Casual it is then.

“But if ya’ prefer. I could go in nothing at all,” he purrs, his eyebrows wiggling at you suggestively. 

You couldn’t help but giggle. You got the sense that it wasn’t genuine flirting. That he was trying to make you smile more than anything else. He enjoys entertaining others like that. Probably why he became a Porn Star - and such a famous one at that. 

His face lit up at your laugh. 

“Great, the wire in this bra is killing me!” You mime a pain in your back, eliciting a laugh from the spider demon himself. 

“I like yous,” he holds out a hand to shake. “Names Angel Dust.” 

“Thestral,” you shook his furry hand - he had so many, you wondered how he went shopping for shirts. 

“Thestral? Like the dead horses from ‘arry Potter?” 

“You know your JK Rowling?” 

Angel had to have died in like the 40s/50s - from what research you did before coming here. How did he know about the books and movies made popular in the 2010s? 

“Yeah, she ended up down here after she died. Kept writing weird shit about her characters. Really changed my views on the Potterverse. It was shocking for a while but you can only be so entertaining on Sinstagram and Vitter for so long these days.” He shrugged. 

“Huh, for some reason that doesn’t surprise me, but thank you. The last place I lived, everyone was expected to dress for meals and I just wanted to be sure.” 

“No problem, toots. If ya’ don’t mind me askin’, how long yous been down here? If ya’ didn’t know about the Potter thang, it couldn’t have been that long?” His accent: New York? 

“Just shy of six years, actually,” you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously, feeling the bubbles beginning to fester inside you. 

You’ve done work to gather information before, but you’ve never had to act like you were now. You were always behind a mask… How many details were too many to share? 

“Oh, damn, just shy of being a Fleshy!” He smiles. 

“A Fleshy?” You scrunch your nose.

“Yeah, the living or whatnot.” He pulls out his phone again, frowning at the notification screen before pulling up an app. Something was definitely bothering him. “Hey, whatcha say we head down a little early? I can pull up her Vitter page and show ya’ some good ones?” The spider demon smiled, frustration weighing down his eyebrows. He had a single gold tooth which sparkled in the low light. 

“Sure!” You tried to respond not too excitedly. 

This was the plan. Get in early with one of the Hotel mates and use it as a way to get information on the others. 

You had thought it was going to be Husk. What bartender didn’t love gossip? But here was Angel offering himself up on a silver platter. 

You only had about an hour before brunch was served, but those sixty minutes laying in the alcove by the fireplace were the most hilarious minutes of your life. Angel had you laughing so hard you were crying. Things were going well. Despite the constant text messages from Valentino you pretended not to notice chime across the screen.

At about eleven, a small girl named Nifty - who introduced herself as the housemaid - emerged from the kitchen to announce that brunch was ready, and as everyone piled into the room and found their designated places, you realized you didn’t know where to go. It was like being the new kid at school walking into the lunchroom with a sack lunch and not a friend in the world to rescue you. 

“Hey” Angel waved you to the only available seat left, which just so happened to be at the head. “Sit next to me, will ya’?” 

Relief.

“No! That’s Mr. Alastor’s seat!” Nifty protested from her place by the oven. Her entire body practically vibrated with energy. 

“Mr. Alastor?” That name definitely did not come up in your research.

“Relax, Tiny. Smiles is on the terrace this morning drinkin’ his tea.” Angel leaned back in his chair, one set of arms folded behind his head. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill ‘em. Or maybe it will and we can finally be free o’ him and his creepy, ol’ timey ways. Either way, we’ll be fine.” 

You blinked a few times before hesitantly falling into the seat. Nifty gave a great sigh as she watched you sit, not liking it but allowing it. She busied herself with serving platters of food, her lips twisted in a pout.

It’s a chair. You didn’t think it was that big of a deal? Maybe he was one of those people who was territorial with their things? 

As you sat and passed the food around, you couldn’t help the hairs which prickled on the back of your neck. How could you have missed another guest at the Hotel? You swore you wrote down everyone you saw in that glitchy commercial and did thorough research before coming here. You were never this sloppy. 

“Can I get you anything to drink, Thestral?” Charlie was at the fridge with five different bottles of liquid in her hand, eagerly awaiting your answer. 

“Coffee would be great,” you smiled through a mouth full of eggs, one hand over your face to be polite. God, Nifty was a great cook. You usually never ate breakfast but this was amazing. 

The Hotel inhabitants sat and talked like family. This place has only been open what? Two weeks? And already they got along like they’ve lived together for years. It was kinda cute actually but spelled issues for your plans. A close-knit group like this - especially so fast - only meant it was going to be harder to work your way in. Sure, Angel hung out with you for the past hour and you had a great time, but that was just surface level stuff. You were going to need to dig deeper. 

“No! Nobody look at me,” Husk grumbled from a few seats down. “That machine is a nightmare.” He motioned to the silver espresso machine sitting on the corner countertop behind you. 

It looked brand new, barely been touched! A machine like that probably cost hundreds and they weren’t using it?

“I’m sorry.” Charlie frowned from her place by the fridge. “We’ve had it for a while and no one can figure it out. Husk took a look at it last and although he tried, we got nowhere. Nifty bought beans for it and everything…”

A small smile found your lips, “Mind if I take a look?” 

“Goodluck with that kiddo, that machine is cursed,” Husk buried his head in his arms, the orange juice in front of him bubbling with alcohol - which you would guess was more booze than orange at how much of his flask you saw him pouring into it earlier. 

Seems like everyone knows, as no one glanced his way when it happened, but no one seemed to mind his drinking habits this early in the morning. Most likely a recurrent behavior then…

Husk was an old soul, probably the oldest one in this room. The cat had a history of gambling debts which mysteriously disappeared one day - the day he fell from power. You didn’t know the exact details but you heard it wasn’t pretty afterwards. The Vees swooped in pretty fast and gobbled up what remained of the fallen Overlord’s territory. It’s part of the reason they are where they are now. You wondered if the others knew about him? Maybe, seeing as how he’s found himself at the hotel built on second chances. 

Taking the beans from Nifty, you quickly check over the machine. It’s a simple Breville Barista model, nothing too top of the line, but still a commercial appliance. 

You wonder who they sent out on the errand to get this because they clearly had no idea what they were getting. This thing was meant for a high end coffee chain, to be used for hours straight, not sitting in a run down hotel’s kitchen. Regardless, you knew the model and how to use it.

Preheating the machine, you fill the grinder with beans before asking, “Hey Husk, pick your poison.”

He blinks at you a few times before answering. “Double espresso.” 

Simple enough.

Clicking a single wall basket into the portafilter, you fill the metal device with ground beans before tapping it flat. Sliding it into the machine with a click, you grab two shot glasses and watch as the brew fills to the line, the fresh scent of chocolate, caramel, and nuts fill the kitchen. You pour both into a white glass and send it down the table to Husk who sits dumbfounded at the end of the kitchen. In fact, everyone had stopped eating completely to watch you work.

Anxiety bubbles in your stomach as you count the eyes boring into you. 

Oh, fuck. You drew too much attention to yourself. 

“Fuck, kid. This is good.” Husk chirps from the end of the table, having taken his first sip. “Where’d you learn to do that?” 

“I worked at a cafe just outside Cannibal Town when I first got here,” you rub the back of your neck, an uncomfortable laugh escaping your lips. “They had a machine just like this, but far bigger.” 

That was true. After you fell, you were set up with a place to stay and a job at the local coffee shop which sat inbetween Cannibal Town and the border zone. It didn’t only serve certain… appetites, but was meant for a wider audience. You served everything from finger cakes (yes, fingers in the cakes) to bagels and cream cheese alongside the coffee creations. 

“Oooh, Cannibal Town. This kid’s got bite,” Angel laughs. “I didn’t know you swung that way.” The spider demon shovels another pile of eggs onto his plate. He ate a lot. 

“Oh, no. Not really, I just happened to… land there.” Technically you weren’t lying. 

That first day in Hell was brutal. You smacked into cement face first, a pile of blood and broken bones. Luckily the streets weren’t crowded, and you were found and taken care of before anyone even noticed. 

“So you just stayed in Cannibal Town for fun?” Vaggie didn’t look impressed. In fact, she looked suspicious - ever the hypervigilant soldier she was designed to be. 

“Well…” There it was, the rubbing on the back of your neck again. By the end of today, your skin was going to be raw. 

God, why was this so much easier with a mask on? 

“Hey!” Charlie cut in, clearly sensing your discomfort. “You don’t have to tell us.” She cups your hands within her own. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters. We can get to know you at your own pace. Don’t push yourself. Okay?” 

You offer her a sweet smile.

Wow, the Princess was really buying your act - or lack thereof, by how anxious this job was making you. 

“Now, do you know how to make a cappuccino?” She motioned back to the machine. You silently thanked her for the change in conversation. 

A genuine smile formed on your lips, “what kind of milk?” 

The rest of the brunch passed quickly after you showed off your artistic masterpiece that was to become Vaggie’s coffee. The Princess ordered the beverage for her girlfriend, and after making a butterfly out of the milk atop the bubbles everyone else quickly got in line and ordered their own. 

It didn’t bother you, in fact it made you more comfortable. You got to observe their behavior and interactions as a silent third party noting the ways in which they teased each other. 

Husk could be a grump but you got the sense that he was a big softie. You couldn’t tell if Angel was actually flirting with the cat demon or just pushing his buttons, either way, the barkeep slunked out, flask in hand, with red cheeks. 

When the chair started rattling, Nifty was prohibited from drinking anymore caffeine. She put up a pretty good fight but as soon as she saw a bug, she took off after it, needle in hand. 

Angel returned to the couch, face in his phone, clearly stressed about something. 

After helping with the dishes - Charlie protested but you insisted - she invited you to join the three of them by the fire where you had found them earlier that morning. You didn’t really have anything else to do, other than to try and win over the Hotel natives. 

You could go hide in your room - the Lord knows your social meter needed the break. The group was welcoming but was… a lot. Especially Charlie, but the Princess and Vaggie had questions about the commercial and how Sinners were handling the recent date change for the Extermination. You shrugged and offered whatever you could - which wasn’t a lot. 

“They’re desperate,” you answered. 

“That’s right, they’re desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape the Extermination,” Vaggie smiled, smacking her fist against her hand. 

“Worked for me,” you shrugged, watching Angel from the corner of your eye. 

Your heart melted a little for the spider demon. Valentino was known to be ruthless and manipulative - and the way he treated women… It was why you never took a job from the Overlord, let alone gave him a card. In fact, none of the Vees had your card. You didn’t like them, but you didn’t need to see how it affected Angel to decide that. 

“This would be a perfect time to recruit more Sinners for the Hotel! We should get more rooms ready!” Charlie beamed. Of course she would find a way to spin this into something good. 

“Cute idea and all, but are you really gonna go out in all this?” Angel turns his phone around, videos of the Doomsday Distract flash across the screen. 

It was pretty chaotic, but when was that place not on fire? 

“Well, it’s not like all Sinners are going to show up on our doorstep like Thestral did.” Charlie offered, motioning to you. 

She wasn’t wrong… 

BOOM! 

Ah, perfect timing, Princess. 

The entire Hotel rocked as dust and debris filled the foyer burning your lungs and eyes. 

“Show yourself, Alassstor!” A voice echoed from outside. 

The four of you ran to the now collapsed wall, veering into the streets to get a better look. Husk simply rolled his eyes and took another drink. 

He was used to this? 

Floating above the cobblestone streets was a yellow blimp equipped with an army of… eggs? 

“Who are you?” A voice chimed from above, but it was… different - static-y…

“Who am I? Who am I?! I am the great Ssssssir Pentiousssss!” Deep within the zeppelin stood a black and yellow snake at the helm. He was dressed to the nines in army regalia. 

Hmm, Sir Pentious? Had you heard of him before? You wracked your brain trying to think but nothing immediately came of mind. He had resources - clearly Carmilla Carmine supplies him by the brand on the metal - but was he a threat? He did put a hole through the building. 

You spun studying his dirty work. 

A missile? Sloppy, but still a step up from the lowest rung of demon. 

“Inventor, architect of dessstruction, villain extraordinaire!” The snake twirls his arms, gesturing to himself and his work. 

You scoff. Yeah right… 

“Ooh you tell 'em boss!” The eggs chime. 

What the fuck…? The eggs are sentient? Now that’s kind of interesting. 

Testing the waters, you let an invisible finger of power slip from you and slither over to the zeppelin. It poked and prodded till it found a way through the metal before coming to rest by the snake demon’s tail. Gently, you caressed his form, searching for the power his soul possessed. 

Yes, he definitely still had his soul, but from what you gathered - or rather, lack of what you gathered - this demon was no more a threat than a mosquito was to an elephant. But a better question was, what brought him here? 

A chime of static fills the air, like little bolts of electricity, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. 

What the…?

You spin, checking behind you to find the source of the static snaking its way down your spine, but no one was there. 

Charlie yelps, bringing your attention back to the group, as a trail of shadow crawls between her feet, giving way to a demon in red materializing from the darkness. 

How did he do that? 

The demon’s back was to you, his attention fully on the blimp. You didn’t recognize his silhouette. His deer ears, hooves, and antlers were pretty iconic, but you didn’t know any demon like that. He wasn’t a Hellborn, his profile didn’t fit any of the creatures Hell bred. So a Human Sinner then?

The demon stood before you, a red suit complete with red-tipped black boots, and black slacks. His jacket was long, ending at his knees. The hair atop his head was cut cleanly, red and tipped in black, and tousled ever so perfectly.  

Yeah, you had no idea who this guy was. Which did not sit well with you. 

Nifty materializes on his shoulder. When had she slipped out here? “Ooh, he’s a bad boy,” the tiny demon sings. 

Okay then…

The demon lifts her from his person and drops her gently onto the cement. “Ha, well if all that's true, you'd think I'd have heard of you!” 

His voice isn’t just static, it’s like a radio? 

The snake drops his smile. “I attacked you literally last week.”

The red demon cocks his head.

“We've done battle, like... 20 times.”

The demon brings both hands to his staff. No, that’s not right, microphone? “Well, you must have been really bad at this.” 

You snort, but do your best to stifle the giggle into your palm. 

The demon stiffens. You swear you see his shadow elongate in your direction. A trick of the light? An hallucination? You look to Angel for direction but he’s too busy watching the interaction, clearly entertained. 

“Silence! Now cower! For when I've ssslain you, the almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me as their equal.” 

Nifty reappears on the demon’s shoulder, garnering his attention. “Ooh! Wait, who are the Vees?” 

“Oh, nobody important,” the red demon sings. 

Nobody important, eh? For someone to so easily dismiss the Vees like that they’d have to either be stupid or think themselves more powerful - in both cases, they’re stupid. I agree, independently, the Vees are more annoying than anything. One by one they weren’t a threat, but all three together… 

Testing a theory, you let that tendril of power sneak from your core, and just as you had Sir Pentious, you let it slither to the base of the demon’s shoes. Delicately prodding…

SMACK! 

A slap hits your power so hard it sends your head spinning. You fall backwards into Angel who wraps his arms under your shoulders to steady you. 

“You okay, toots?” Angel whispers in your ear, your vision spinning. 

Holy shit. 

It was either the sheer force of the blow or the dizziness in its wake, but you swore you saw faces laughing at you in the shadows. 

“Uh,” you shake your head, willing the sting to subside. 

Jesus, what was that? You’ve never had a reaction like that before… 

“I think so?” You find your feet. “Just all the excitement… Caught me off guard.” You give him a fake laugh. He shrugs it off. 

What the fuck…?

The next thing you know, Charlie’s grip is on your arm. “I promise it’s not always like this!” 

From the corner of your eye, you see Vaggie shake her head. “Yes it is..” she grumbles before swearing under her breath in… Spanish? 

Patting Charlie’s arm, you assure her that it doesn’t bother you. That Cannibal Town - and anywhere else in Pentagram City for that matter - were far worse than this place. Which was true. The only place you could get any peace and quiet was the Wrath Ring - way out in the country. Not that you’d been to the Wrath Ring… Technically… 

The attention is finally turned away from you when an array of tendrils shoots from the red demon’s form. They descend upon the blimp, shredding it to pieces. The eggs spark into a panic as their helmsman desperately shouts commands. 

Maniac laughs bubble in the demon’s chest as he slowly gets to work. It takes a moment before you realize it, but he isn’t taking his time because he has to, he’s doing it to toy with the snake demon. He enjoys the destruction. 

You watch as the tension in the demon’s shoulder slowly diminishes with each attack. The pure enjoyment brings a small smile to your lips. 

So this guy enjoys chaos just as much as you do, huh? 

“Um… Alastor!” 

Ah, so this is the famous Mr. Alastor? 

The Princess slowly approaches the demon, but it isn’t fear you smell wafting off her person, it’s… anxiety? “I think he’s had enough.”

Vaggie is on Charlie’s heels in an instant, her hands flying to her back to summon her spear just in case. 

So little Ms. Morningstar wasn’t afraid of him, but Vaggie sure as Hell doesn’t trust him. Interesting. 

“Nah. He’s got a few more hits in him.” Angel crosses his arms, clearly entertained by the onslaught. Despite the chaotic scene before us, his eyes occasionally flit to the red demon - keeping him within eyesight. 

Hmm, Angel didn’t trust him either. 

You take a step forward but Angel pulls you back, shaking his head. 

The snake demon falls from the zeppelin, landing face first with a smack on the pavement. You couldn’t help but grimace. That had to hurt. 

Alastor twirls his staff - microphone? - as an egg falls and breaks into pieces at Charlie’s feet.

 “Thanks for another forgettable experience!” He sings.

Okay, that you do laugh at. This guy was pretty witty, you had to give it to him. 

The four Hotel Natives shoot you a look of disbelief as you giggle into your hand. Looking between you and the red demon, fear slowly etching across their brows.

Alastor’s shoulders stiffen as he turns, finding the source of giggles rumbling through your chest. His smile is pulled taut across his cheek, but the look he gives you… it wasn’t confusion necessarily swimming behind his eyes, more so like he didn’t know what to think. 

The giggles die down as your cheeks heat under his gaze. 

Was he not used to people finding him funny? 

“Thank you… For letting your guard down!” The snake’s tail whips forward and rips the corner of Alastor’s suit from his person. A small chunk of fabric gives way. “Aha! Yah!” The snake celebrates before noticing the purely demonic smile overcoming the red demon’s face. “Oh, shit…” 

The red demon’s antlers grow as an aura of green overtakes the atmosphere. From his microphone an explosion of green bursts through, sending the snake demon flying across Pentagram City. 

Hmm… Why didn’t he just kill him? He’s just gonna come back. The mosquitos always do. 

“Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor!” The demon inspects his jacket. Despite his jovial attitude, you could see the irritation in his eyebrows. 

A mask. This demon was wearing a mask. 

Finally, now that the chaos was over, you had a chance to inspect the red demon. He must have felt your eyes on him, for when he finally looked up, his gaze was locked with yours. Your cheeks heated under the pressure of his gaze. His eyes, glowing like red crystal in direct sunlight, made your legs feel heavy and your chest tight. 

Was it getting harder to breathe or was it just you? Are you… Are you intimidated right now? No. You’ve never been intimidated by a demon in your life. Angels maybe, but never a Human Sinner. What was wrong with you? 

“And who might this be?” Your heart fluttered at the purr in his voice. 

Twirling his microphone behind his back, he took a step towards you, standing tall at his full height. He had to be an entire foot taller than you, now cast in his shadow. It felt eerily colder in the shade, but there was something else there too. An extra presence you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

The demon was dressed to the nines. His red suit perfectly tailored to his form. It splayed out around his hips, accentuating a waist line supporting a broad chest. His hair was cropped short around his angular face, his eyes half-lidded as they bore into you. The red of his irises practically glowing. He was a classy demon, clearly not of this century. He regarded you with a sense of curiosity - an aura of green still lingered, however. It was meant to intimidate you, not necessarily threaten you. 

Okay, this guy thinks he’s tough shit, huh? 

Before Charlie had a chance to intervene, you thrust your arm forward, meeting his eyes, not backing down to his overwhelming sense of self importance. 

“Thestral, pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Alastor.” You offer him a soft smile. 

You took the shift of stiffness in his shoulders to mean that you had made the wrong move. This was a demon who carried himself quite highly - probably used to lesser demons cowering in his presence, not laughing at his jokes or meeting his eyeline let alone offering their hand first. At that, he didn’t know what to make of you, which made you dangerous. Which made you a target of interest. 

Shit. 

Day one and you’re already fucking up the whole “lay low” part of the plan.  

“Oh, darling, you flatter me,” he takes your hand. “Just Alastor will do.” 

A shiver rolls down your spine as the tips of his claws scrape across your skin, so sharp they could cut flesh. They probably have, but you weren’t worried. He couldn’t hurt you anyway. Not really.

“Well, ‘Just Alastor,’ thank you for the entertainment.” You cross both arms behind your back mimicking his stance. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Angel’s jaw drop. 

“Of course! I live to please! I’m not the Hotel Manager for nothing!” There it is again, a small shift in his body language. He didn’t know what to make of your lack of fear. 

The static is interrupted by a laugh track, sounding as if from a live studio audience - from a radio.

“So does that mean you’re going to do you’re job?” Vaggie takes a step forward, motioning to the half destroyed wall of the Hotel. 

“Of course! Can’t let my new project fall into disrepair already! What would the papers say?” With a snap of his fingers, black ink demons appear with construction tools. 

Five. Five faceless demons. Which means he owns at least five souls. But that was not nearly enough power to equate to the destruction you had just witnessed. 

By the time you turn back to him, he’s already strolling down the cobblestone path and off into Pentagram City. You couldn’t help still feeling watched, however, like the sensation of his red eyes still on your form, but nowhere to be found. 

You spun but again, no one was watching you. 

“Word of advice, stay away from him,” Vaggie crosses her arm in Charlie’s, ready to lead her back inside. 

“Yeah, Hairclip,” Angel Dust appears behind you, poking at the silver metal in your hair. “You got a lot of balls on you to stand up to that one.” 

“What does that mean?” You scrunch your nose in confusion. 

“Well…” Charlie takes a step forward, touching the tips of her fingers together with anxiety. “Alastor can be a little…”

Before she has a chance to respond, Vaggie and Angel offer suggestions. 

“Creepy.” 

“Unpredictable.” 

“Insane.” 

“Murderous.” 

“Bloodthirsty.” 

“Aren’t those basically the same thing?” Angel shrugs. 

“He’s a bad boy,” Nifty chirps by your ankle. 

Where did she come from? 

“Temperamental,” Charlie offers with an awkward smile.

Why did that not feel like a compromising adjective? 

“The point is, Alastor is dangerous. It would be best not to poke and prod him too much,” Vaggie runs a hand through her ridiculously long hair, huffing.

Poke and prod… Shit! Shit! Shit! That force I felt slap my power away earlier, was that him? Did he know it was me? No! No! No! This wasn’t good. This was anything but good. 

The blood melted from your face. 

“Hey toots, you don’t look so good. Maybe we should get ya’ back inside?” Angel’s arm comes to rest on your shoulder, leading you towards the doors. “Don’t sweat it too much. He’s harmless as long as you’re not a threat. He won’t lay a finger on ya’, we won’t let him. Right gurls?” 

“Right.” They chime as you made your way through the double doors. 

This job just got a lot more complicated…

SCREECH! 

“What the fuck is that?” Husk yells from behind the bar, his claws over his ears. 

The television by the fireplace hisses, having turned itself on. 

“Welcome home!” The box sang. “I’m going to make you wish that you stayed gone!” 

The screen jumped through a few stations of fuzz before settling on a news broadcast. Vox, the media demon, sat behind a reporter’s desk, going on and on about… the Radio Demon? 

As if in response, the radio in the foyer screams to life, making the five of you jump. 

“Salutations! Good to be back on the air!” You recognized the old timey voice as Alastor’s.

“What the fuck is goin’ on!?”Angel screamed over the noise. 

Vaggie ran over to the television and ripped the cord out of the wall. No good, the television continued to flash images of Vox screaming as if he could hear and respond to Alastor’s radio. 

The Exorcist fisted the cord in frustration before pulling her spear from the Void. Charlie stopped her, however, preventing her from destroying the only piece of real technology in this building besides the coffee maker. 

The Hotel Natives and you were subjected to the torture that was Alastor’s and Vox’s tantrum, until finally, they both shut down. 

“Holy Jesus, what the fuck was all that about?” Angel screamed, his ears ringing from the noise. 

“Fucking Vox and his ego,” Husk grumbled from the bar. The cat poured himself a drink. 

“Ahhhhhh!” A eardrum splitting scream pierced the air, making you all, yet again, jump and cover your ears. Vaggie ran to the radio and shut it off rescuing whatever was left of your hearing from… well, whatever the fuck that was. 

“Was that part of Alastor’s bit?” Angel asked the room. 

No one answered, for no one knew the answer. Seems Alastor is a big mystery around here. 

“Drink anyone?” Husk raised a bottle of whiskey in question. 

Fuck, after that you needed one. Silently cursing yourself for your lack of thoroughness in your research, you joined the bar cat. 

You huffed as you sat on the stool.

“You good?” Husk asked, pulling out a menu.

“Yeah,” you rubbed your temples, willing the forming headache away. “Just a lot of homework to do.” 

____________________________________________

It was late, the sky turning towards darkness as opposed to its usual red light. 

The Greed Ring always smelled like metal to you. Not copper, like blood, but like the cold steel of coins. You weren’t in the Greed Ring, of course. Sinners couldn’t travel out of Pride - technically. Yet the stench clung to them nevertheless. 

You landed at the bottom of the cement path leading to the mansion, outside the gates. 

Normally your meetups were discreet, often conducted in the shadows of terraces, rooftops, or alleyways. Oh so rarely did people invite you inside. 

But not this time. This employer loved appearances so much so that he rented out a mansion on the edge of town just for this: a meeting that would last five, ten minutes tops. The vanity of Greed…

The demons next to you jumped as black smoke began to curl away revealing a hooded figure. 

“I believe I am expected,” a deep voice growled from beneath the fabric. Concealed in shadow, the shark demons opened the gate to let you pass, their guns shaking in their hands. Nearing the door, another set of demons stepped to the side, their eyes filled with fear. 

Ugh, how you so enjoyed the scent of terror as it wafted in waves from their forms. Pathetic, honestly. 

You found Crimson sitting before his fire, a glass of whiskey in hand, his hat set on the table next to him. The imp rubbed the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb, clearly it had been a long day. The servant standing next to him, whiskey bottle and towel in hand, leans down to alert him of your presence. 

“Huh? What?” The crime lord jumps to his feet. “Already!?” He lets out a joyous laugh, before finding his hat and setting it between his horns.

Out of the corner of your eye, the waiter slinks from the room. The liquid in the whiskey bottle jostling as he shakes in fear. 

“Chaz is swimming with the fishes already, aye!?” Both hands grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket, he stands before you, offering you a seat at the end of the table. Sliding into the head chair, he offers you a drink, which you refuse of course. 

He takes a long sip of his whiskey, letting the burn sink in before continuing. “Did he suffer?” 

You frowned.  No questions. He knew this. That was part of the deal. It was always part of the deal. 

“Ah, come on, can’t fault a guy for trying?” He laughs, but you aren’t amused. 

As if on cue, a shark demon enters the room, dropping a suitcase onto the table before skittering out of the room. Crim opens the case and turns it towards you to reveal fat stacks of cash lining the case’s bottom. 

“It’s all there, I assure you.” He lights a cigar and leans back in his chair. “Pentagram City currency, not the Native stuff.”

You ignore the money. You knew it was all there. You knew none of the bills were traceable. Crim was a pro when it came to moving money around. You didn’t have to worry about covering your tracks from this job like the last ones. Honestly, you didn’t deal in money that often. Your trade was in souls, but Crimson was a Hellborn, and head of a mafia gang at that. You’ve never done business with a Hell Native, so you were hoping your reputation was enough of a threat to keep him quiet. 

But, the money wasn’t why you took this case. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing he could see their yellow glow - the only part of your face anyone ever saw - before slipping a black gloved hand from your cloak. His eyes find your fingers, uncurled before him expectantly, as the scent hits your nose. 

Fear. 

You knew this diphsit wasn’t stupid enough not to be afraid of you. Was it the sight of your claws? Or the red still staining the leather? 

“Right. Right.” He dug into the hidden pocket of his jacket, producing an obsidian calling card. The flames from the fire flicker across its metal surface as he holds it out to you. 

Finally, you had won this card back. It had taken forever to track it down after the last person you entrusted it with lost it in a game of cards. Of all the things to wager! You’d have killed the demon, but senseless death wasn’t part of your repertoire. 

The card disappeared from the Pride Ring soon after, passing amongst the hands of Hell as it made its way downwards. It eventually became useless, a piece of metallic junk which eventually landed in Crimson’s hand. He figured out what it was, of course he would. He had eyes and ears everywhere - even in the Sinner’s Ring. So when he appeared in Pride a week ago and summoned you in the dead of night you knew you had to do whatever you could to get the calling card back. 

Even if it meant taking down a low level mark and solving some petty personal drama. The calling card now safely tucked away in the leather of your shirt, you stood and made your way to the door. 

“Ain’t you gonna take the money?” Crim motioned to the suitcase still sitting open on the table.

With a flick of your wrist the case closed, locked itself, and slipped into the Void. 

As you exited the room you could hear the imp demon call out after you, “Pleasure doing business with yous!”

Crim was known to be a man of his word, or he’d soon find himself a dead man…

#alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor shadow #smut