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myfictionaldreams · 2 months

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Self Care // Bat Boys x Fem!Reader

Summary: You'd had an exhaustive day that was so busy you couldn't stop to eat, and blisters covered your hands and feet. How will your mates react when they return from Windhaven and notice your predicament? One thing is certain: they won't stop until lessons have been learnt.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, polyamorous, mates, sunshine!reader, fluff, exhaustion, feeling faint, minor injuries, discussion of not eating, dom/sub, oral sex (f receiving), bath/intimate sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, restraints, discipline, aftercare

Words: 5.5k

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There was often a phrase best described for you by your mates and friends: 'too nice for your own good'. Always go above and beyond to help others, even if it is a detriment for yourself, and always have a smile on your face. You loved to help others, from menial small tasks to days-long projects.

The issue that your mates had with this was that you never knew when to say no and often were there to pick up the pieces, which most of the time was your exhausted body.

Your reasoning was that if it benefited others, why wouldn't you help? On a deeper level, the members of your family, your friends, and the people of Velaris had been to hell and back; it was the very least you could do if one of them asked you to carry a box or help fix their door. Except it never was just one thing. Someone notices you helping and asks if, once you're done with that project, you could come and help them.

And you never said no.

Furthermore, you never complained about it, even to your friends. You simply completed the tasks, no matter the pain or exhaustion and would return home to sleep off the discomfort. This annoyed your friends the most for an unknown reason, not comprehending how someone could moan or complain about their day.

"Just rant! Be annoyed! Scream, shout, something! Anything!" Mor had encouraged you on more than one occasion, but you'd shake your head with a smile and lie back on the sofa in front of the fire.

The sunshine part of your personality was stubborn as hell, and not helping others could make you complain.

Today, however, you were experiencing another level of tiredness. The ache throbbing through your muscles deepened enough that even your bones and joints screamed as you walked up the path to the townhouse, your home. You were also walking with muscle memory as your eyes were mostly closed and burning with how dry they were.

Blindly reaching forward, your fingers pushed against the low fence as you entered the front garden, but even this was a feat as burst-open blisters covered your hand from all the help. These injuries perfectly matched those on the back of your feet where your shoes had rubbed to the point of blisters that had long since burst and bled.

You needed a long bath, rest and a lot of food, especially as the subsequent pain to pulse through you was from your empty stomach. You'd been given water throughout the day from those you had helped, so this stopped you from fainting, but the slight tremble in your frame indicated that you were in dire need of something to eat.

As you reached the front door, a coolness swept over your mind, and his voice echoed, 'Hello, Darling. ' A shiver straightened your spine as you smiled and responded mind to mind with one Rhysand.

'Hello to you too. How's it going?' Stepping into your home, you kicked off your shoes and tried to refrain from groaning in satisfaction at the relief of having your sore feet free.

'Painfully. I'm sure Cassian is one more word away from losing his patience, which is saying a lot.'

Pausing in the entryway, you couldn't help but nervously chew on your bottom lip. 'I wish there was some way I could help you all. Do you think you'll be there much longer?'

You could hear Rhys' exhaustion through the bond, hear the heaviness behind his sigh. 'I'm unsure. I'm not staying here tonight. There's no way I'm staying away from you any longer than needs to be, and I think Cass and Az need you too.'

Your eyes drift close, and it's a rare day when Rhys truly leaves his guard down, as well as for your other two mates. You wish you could winnow, even if it meant joining them in the middle of Windhaven, a place your mates refused to take you. How were you supposed to support them when you were so far away?

'Please just stay safe, all of you. I'll be here to look after you all when you're finally home'.

Rhysand groaned through the bond, the sensation of soft fingers carrying your mind in response as he quickly muttered, 'We might be home sooner rather than later in that case'.

Chuckling to yourself, you stumbled into the living room, savouring the blast of warmth from the raging fire, helping ease the ache in your muscles and lull your mind, not helping the exhaustion as you fought to keep your eyes open.

"Is everything ok, my lady?" a voice asked from behind, causing you to jump and turn quickly on the spot, the ground beneath you understudy at the sudden movement as dizziness spiralled through you. Suddenly, two hands are on your arms, steadying you until you're safe enough to not topple over.

"Thank you both, sorry. I'm fine, just a little lightheaded, I think I'm going to go and wash up before the boys return", you explain, looking between Nuala and Cerridwen.

The half-wraith twins stared at you uncertainly, not removing their hands from keeping you upright, even as you stepped forward to walk upstairs. "You need to eat; please sit down so we may get you some food", Nuala pointed in the direction of the vast dining table, helping you into a seat as Cerridwen disappeared in the blink of an eye to the kitchen.

Then you're by yourself, left to your own thoughts. Shaky fingers wiped at your tired eyes as you tried to slow your pounding heart. It was finally beginning to dawn on you that you had pushed yourself too far today. Even with your fae abilities, your hands and feet weren't healing.

You felt it a heartbeat later. The shift in the air. The warmth returned to your soul as the proximity of your mates drew closer. It was as if everything was correcting itself. The missing part of your heart was trying to heal.

It wasn't the sound of their wings beating against the wind or the sound of the voices or footsteps that alerted you to their arrival outside your home. It was the flick of a cool shadow wisping around your fingers, tucking itself beneath your jaw, behind your ear, and remaining close.

The next few seconds were a blur of racing hearts, the last burst of adrenaline that gave you the energy to rush from your chair, run across the wooden flooring and jump into the arms of Rhysand. The joy and relief of having the three of them home was a feeling you would struggle to put a name to other than home.

Rhys wrapped his arms around you, supporting your weight as your legs tucked around his hips and arms around his neck, then reaching behind him to Cassian, who grinned and lifted his hands to cup yours but frowned, seeing the injury to yours, his mouth opening to comment on this but it wasn't him to speak first.

"You're bleeding", Azriel spoke in a voice so low and lethal your body instantly stiffened, as well as Rhys and Cassian's.

For a moment, you weren't sure any of your mates were breathing as you tried to reason with them and say, "It's fine, nothing to worry about". However, you knew it would take more than this to calm their nerves as you found yourself sitting on the edge of the table, Rhys moving with impeccable speed that had the dizzy spell returning. Still, you tried to cover it by placing your fingertips on the table, even with the soreness from the broken skin, and using the touch to ground you to the spot.

"Where?" Azriel growled from your left, his shadows taunting and pulsing with his rising emotions.

"I just had blisters on my feet; it's nothing-". You gasp as you're almost toppled over onto your back as both of your legs are lifted, one by the high lord and the other by the shadowsinger, as they each inspected a foot, cursing under their breath at the blisters and blood.

"And her hands", Cassian lowly informed as he cupped with a gentler touch around your wrists, easing both hands above your head and facing them palm up so he could inspect your injuries.

Closing your eyes with the overwhelming dread that now thickens in the atmosphere due to your mates' worry. The lightheadedness only worsened for a second. Breathing deeply through your nose and out of your mouth, you kept your eyes closed for a moment.

"It's just blisters, they'll heal. I'm sure you're all covered in worse injuries today than I am", you explained calmly, hoping the soothing pitch would equally calm your mates.

"We were, but we healed. Why haven't you healed?" Azriel asked as the coolness of his scarred fingers massaged into the sore soles of your feet, causing you to groan in relief.

"I don't know", you lied whilst tilting your head to the side, fully content on falling asleep there and then in the middle of the table with all three men's hands on you, even if two of them were still inspecting your injuries.

"Liar. Naughty little liar. Do you want to try that again?" Rhysand purred as his hand finally drifted away from your heel to the back of your calf, slipping beneath the loose material of your trousers.

You sighed in relief at the touch, feeling the sleepy sensation teetering around the edges of your consciousness. "'M not lying", you mumbled as any remaining tension in your body loosened so that you were now fully relaxed and prepared for sleep on the table.

However, all of that comfort disappeared as one of the twins appeared in the doorway, carrying a steaming hot bowl of pasta and informed your mates, "She hasn't eaten". Your body stiffened, as did your mates, your eyes flying open with panic, knowing the fallout wouldn't be pleasant and you would be chastised.

A rough hand gripped your cheeks as you were forced to look up at a frowning, upside-down Cassian as he leaned over you, "What do you mean, you haven't eaten? It's nearing the middle of the Night."

"Um. The time just got away from me, and I-".

"That's no excuse not to eat. Enough waiting around, sit, eat and then we will talk", Cassian demanded whilst releasing your hand and face. At the same time Azriel and Rhysand lowered your feet, equally annoyed as Cass. You couldn't really blame them; if it was any of them who had gone without food or drink or hadn't been able to properly look after themself due to menial tasks, you'd be pissed too, needing them to look after themselves.

Lost in your thoughts, you sat up quickly with the plan to sit in the chair next to you, but with the sudden movement, your dizziness returned full force, and your face would nearly end up planting into the floor if it hadn't for Az quickly catching your fall. Nausea tumbled through your stomach as he righted your position, keeping his arms firmly around your waist as you rested your head against his bicep.

"Slow breaths, in your nose and out of your mouth; it'll pass", Az encouraged soothingly, beginning to stroke circles into the nape of your neck with his icy fingers. It took a few minutes of slow breathing before the world righted itself by not spinning so dramatically.

Pulling away from leaning against Azriel, you blinked sheepishly up at him, expecting to see his face set in anger, but all that met you was his calm hazel stare that flicked across every inch of your face. "Sorry", you whispered timidly, steading yourself further on your feet but still holding onto Az.

"It's ok", he reassures as more of his shadows gather around you, like a bond bridging the two of you together, but they also help to keep your skin cool to help with the nauseous feeling.

Helping you into a chair, Nuala placed the bowl of food in front of you, the sick sensation immediately shifting to hunger pains as you stared at the tomato sauce drizzling over the pasta. As you reached for the fork, your hand was gently pushed away as Cass sat in the chair beside you, his knee knocking into yours and wing wrapping around your shoulder subtly.

Gazing at him in confusion as he stabbed some of the pasta with the fork before lifting it to your lips, you shook your head, suppressing a smile, "You are not feeding me, Cassian".

His eyebrow raised, questioning, the scar running through the middle stark against his golden brown skin. "Oh? I'd love to see you pick up this fork without flinching with those ruined hands, Sweetheart".

He was right, and from the smug smirk on his handsome face, he knew it too, as you didn't even bother attempting to prove him wrong. Opening your mouth, you accepted the delicious food with a deep groan as Rhysand sat opposite you and Azriel to your left, pouring water into a glass that you'd not even noticed appeared.

After a few bites of food, the twins returned with more food for the others, but they didn't attempt to start eating. You met Rhys' stare from across the table, his violet eyes dark with shadows, the stars that usually twinkle dim as he drummed his fingers against the table.

"Are you not going to eat your food?" You asked casually, continuing to eat from the fork in Cass' hand. Rhys sat up further in his seat, pulling the sleeves of his black jacket as he looked like he contemplated a thousand responses at once.

"Not until you've finished yours, Darling. Why don't you tell us about your day?"

"It's been fine, just been here and there-".

"You didn't say no again, did you?" Rhys confirmed with a head tilt, assessing your every breath.

"Maybe. It wasn't a lot, really. I'm sure your days have been far more taxing than mine; you don't want to hear me go on and on about it". You are the last mouthful of pasta, finally feeling more energetic, but at the same time, the full tummy meant that the tiredness had your eyes dropping. In an attempt to stay awake, you drank large mouthfuls of the water.

Cass chuckled from your right, his wing flexing over your shoulder as he leaned closer, his breath tickling your cheek. "Ah, you see, that's where you're wrong. I want to hear every single detail of your day. I need to hear you moan about your day and curse people out for asking for your help. I want to hear about how tired you are so I can come and pick up the pieces." Azriel coughed lowly, snagging Cass' attention as he corrected himself, "Fine, WE can pick up the pieces."

Warmth spread through your chest and to the apple of your cheeks as you stared into his beautiful eyes, feeling for the first time at peace that day.

Azriel leaned closer, crowding against your side, but only so he could ghost his lips against the shell of your ear. "He's right, Love. Do you really think I want to talk about the Hellions I've spent the day with? I'd rather not spend another second thinking about my day. You could talk to me about how you painted your pretty little nails all day, and I'd find it infinitely more fascinating than my day".

"I just feel guilty moaning about my day when-"

"Don't." Rhysand interrupted, leaning forward and holding his hands out for you. Only then did you realise that your hands had finally healed as your fingers slipped against his, feeling the rough callouses. "Don't feel guilty about being tired or frustrated; if you can't rant to us, who can you talk to? So, please tell us, in detail, about your day".

So you did. The more you spoke, the more passionate you because about what had pissed you off. No one offered you some food or if it was inconvenient for your day. You talked about how your body felt, the aches and pains, the blisters that had thankfully healed, how excruciatingly tired you were, and most of all, how you hated it when all three of them were away simultaneously.

"I know it can't be helped; you all have so much pressure and responsibilities on your shoulders, but I miss you, even if it's just for one day. It's like I can't breathe without you around, so I said yes to all these jobs to keep distracted, but now all I want to do is lie in bed with you three".

Your mates had remained silent as you ranted, intently listening, stroking your hands and arms or resting a heavy hand on your thoughts, making you feel supported and calm. It felt good to get it off your chest that you relaxed back into the arms and wings surrounding you, entirely at ease.

"Now that we can help with that", Rhys smiles, his emotions softening as he squeezes your fingers before standing up, but you frown, looking between him and the bowl of food.

"Excuse me? Talking about looking after ourselves? Sit back down right now, Mr Moonbeam and eat your dinner". Rhys raises an eyebrow at your stern words, but you don't break the eye contact until he sits back down and begins to eat from his bowl of pasta whilst mumbling, 'I knew I shouldn't have told you my surname'.

Az and Cass were both attempting to hold in their laughter as they began eating their food. You watched them devour the food in half the time you'd taken. Then Azriel's arms are underneath your knees, supporting your back and carrying you carefully towards the stairs as the other two follow.

Winding your arms around Azriel, you played with the short black hair at the nape of his neck, admiring the wisps of shadows that would circle your fingers and wrist, matching the tattoos that had developed over your time in the Night Court.

As he marched you through the corridor, a twinkle in the low lighting illuminated something that had your throat tightening in panic. "Azriel, do you have blood on your earrings?"

His steps didn't falter as he muttered, "It's been a long day". Your arms tightened around his neck, face nuzzling into his body to comfort him.

Once in the shared bedroom, Rhys moved into the bathroom, running the hot water in the bathtub as Az placed you carefully in the centre of the bed, his arm moving behind your head so your entire body was slowly and gently lowered.

His mouth is on you a breath later. Firm lips against yours, his firm muscular body pressing down between your legs until you're chest to chest. A moan formed in your throat as you desperately reached to cup his jaw. You breathed into his cheek, smelling the sweet natural aroma that has your arousal pulsing and heart racing.

His icy hand cupped around your throat, not applying enough pressure to cut off your airway but enough to keep you grounded and safe in his hands. Lifting his head to look down at you, he began to tell you his plans for the rest of the evening. "I know you're tired, and I will have you in my arms asleep soon, but first, you'll lie here and let Cassian look after you. After we move you into the bathroom, ensure you're nice and relaxed. I want to take my time with you in there, touch every inch of you, wash away today's sins, and create my own. Lastly, our High Lord will wrap you in his arms, carry you to bed and show you how much he missed you today with all his grumpy prowess".

Upon hearing this plan, you'd almost forgotten how to breathe and didn't even have the energy to react to Rhys' disapproving noise from the doorway from the bathroom at Az's dig at him. All you were capable of doing was watching every single movement that the man above you took, anticipation throbbing in your cunt.

The large wings framing his back flare as he moves and straddles your waist, his uniform stretching over his muscles as his hand carefully squeezes your throat. "Eyes on me", he instructed as you felt another set of hands on your waist, undoing the button on your jeans and beginning to remove them from your body; then you remembered that he had said Cassian would look after you first.

Assuming he'd meant for Cassian to just pick you up or cuddle you in some way, but as his hands caressed over the naked skin of your legs, you realised it meant something completely different.

"Cassian", you groan whilst trying to roll your hips closer to him, but also, your cheeks burned; you'd been walking around Veleris all day; it would probably be better to shower before anything like this happened. "Wait, let me just freshen up".

"You'll do no such thing", Cass reprimanded as the leathers of his trousers squeaked as he lowered himself to his knees, not that you could see, though, with Azriel's form completely blocking your view.

Another set of hands was then on you as Rhy carefully moved your hands above your head, his thumb stroking over the sensitive skin of your inner wrist as he held you there, looking down at you from beside his shadowsinger.

"After today, what lesson have you learned?" he asked, using his high lord voice, full of authority and power.

You're breathing heavily, lost between trying to concentrate on each of your mates. Azriel, with his body covering yours, Rhys with his restraint and question that you couldn't form an answer to, and Cassian, whose tongue was caressing your inner knee.

The hand around your throat tightened slightly, so your unfocused eyes snapped to Az. "He asked you a question, Love".

Licking your lips, you look up to your High Lord, almost purring yourself as his fingers caress the inside of your mind in a comforting manner. "To not help everyone at once?" you answered, hoping it was right, but from the condescending head tilt from Rhys, you knew it wasn't.

"Try again," he instructed, slowly kissing your temple. For a second, you breathed in his scent of the Night and a fresh ocean breeze, allowing it to wander through your scents and drown any anxieties you'd ever had for the day.

But then your legs are spread with big strong hands, and a mouth seals around your clit and sucks. With Azriel on top, you're unable to arch your back or pull free of the restraints on your arms or legs.

"Ah! Cass!" you gasp loudly as he groans, lapping away at your juices, drinking them all hungrily, causing obscene wet noises, especially as he pushes his thick tongue into your pulsing hole.

"Does he feel good, Darling?" Rhys asks as he uses darkness to brush over your cheek. Your eyes flick between him and Az, wishing you could also see Cass.

"Yes, so good" you breathe slowly, trying to regain some sort of composure, but then he's circling your clit slowly, which begins to throb in time with his movements.

"What did I ask you?" Rhys continued to question, and your mind was completely blank of any thoughts that didn't resort to sex or pleasure.

"I don't know", you stumbled over your words, your tongue beginning to feel heavy in your mouth.

"Well, let's try this again. What lesson did you learn from today?"

"That Cassian is really fucking good with his tongue", you moan, closing your eyes as the man chuckled deeply against your cunt, still moving from inserting himself within you and circling and sucking the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs.

Azriel's hand, which had been resting beside your head, moved to cover your mouth, stopping you from saying another word as Rhys tutted loudly. "Now you know that's not what I meant, but I'm sure Cass' ego needed to be stroked just the bit more". You couldn't help but laugh as you noticed Cassian lifting his middle finger in Rhys' direction over Az's shoulder. "Now the thing is", Rhysand continued, "that Cassian isn't going to let you come until you answer my question. We've all had a long day; I think it's only appropriate that some of us learn something from it".

You frown up at Rhys, still not being able to think correctly as you thrash in their grip, wishing to ride out the pleasure that was already teetering on the very edge of becoming bliss, but then it all stops. Cassian moved away from your pussy, and your walls continued to clamp down around nothing as they chased the desire to orgasm but couldn't reach it.

Groaning in frustration, you shook your head, indicating that Az should remove his hand, which he did promptly. "I've learned today that I should wear better shoes", you say hopefully breathlessly.

Rhys clicks his tongue and confirms your failure with a simple "Nope".

"I need to exercise more so I don't feel as tired?"

"Nope".

"That I should carry snacks around with me?"

"Good idea, but still nope".

You're just about ready to scream when it dawns on you, "That I need to put my health above helping others?"

Rhys nods, lowering himself until he hovers only a few inches from your face. "Yes, and why is that?"

"Because I'm your mate?" You can tell by the disappointed look in Rhys' eyes that this wasn't the answer he sought. "Um, because I'm important?"

"Correct, and I don't want you to ever forget that. You put your own health above everyone else. If someone asks you to lift even a flower and you are late to eat or need to sit down, I need you to say no because no one is as important as you. Do I make myself clear?"

Tears lined the edges of your eyes at the sincerity in Rhys' voice, and you could only answer with a flicker of a nod; otherwise, you were sure to release a sob. Happy with your answer, you were rewarded with the delectable return of Cassian's warm, wet mouth on your most precious areas. It took almost no time at all for you to come. With Azriels hand remaining around your throat and Rhys holding down your hands, you were utterly restrained as he licked away until the waves of pleasure eased to oversensitive sparks.

The two on top of you removed themself, beginning to undress as Cass grinned up at you from between your legs, kissing up your body, leaving wet patches in his wake. The blouse you were wearing being pushed up and over your head until all that remained were your socks and bra.

Not that this was what was on your mind as you reached to run your fingers through the long black hair and desperately kiss the huge man above you. Warmth bloomed across your cheeks. You tasted yourself on his tongue, and he carefully stroked it against yours before pulling away and removing the last of your clothing.

Az then returned to pick you up and move into the bathroom, where the sweet floral scents from the foaming bath drifted through your scents, relaxing you further.

The warmth of the water and Az's comfort had your eyes closed instantly, your head falling back against his shoulder as you sat in his lap while the other two joined in the giant bathtub.

Azriel kept to his word and slowly washed away the sweat and grim from the day. Taking his sweet and delicate time as his scarred fingers started from the top of your head, massaging over your scalp and then lower, over your neck and shoulders.

In turn, you also reached behind him and wiped the blood of the earrings lining his ear, erasing the hardships from his day.

You were a constant stream of moans and groans as his magical fingers explored every inch of your skin. Your breath hitched as he circled over your breasts, tweaking the nipples and squeezing the soft tissue before moving lower.

Between your legs was his final destination. He returned to his favourite place after moving over your legs and feet.

Your eyes finally opened with great difficulty as you watched his hand move below the water as you rolled your hips on his lap, feeling his hardness poking into your lower back. The featherlight touch of his lips against your cheek had you turning your head to look back at him as he asked, "Do you want my fingers or cock, my love?"

"Mmm, your cock Az", you greedily decided, wishing to feel full and sated, knowing it would help to make you feel even more satisfied.

"My cock it is then. I'm just going to lean you against Cass's chest, ok? He'll keep you upright". Without having to move a muscle of your own accord, Az slid his arms around your waist and began to move you over to Cass, who was watching with half-lidded eyes, his face evident of his arousal that was poking out of the top of the water anyway.

Sliding your arms around his shoulders, you lazily rested your face against his cheek as Az positioned your hips further back so that you were chest down in the water, on all fours, in doggy position with your arse poking out of the water.

Your nails dug into the muscles of Cass' shoulder as Azriel slowly entered you from behind. His cock stretched you beautifully, almost verging on the tip of pain, but with the help of the water and already having an orgasm, you were prepared.

Azriel took his sweet time with you. The thrusts were long and soft, so the water wasn't too disturbed, but you still felt every inch of him. The strength of his hands on your hips kept your knees from collapsing with the pleasure, and soon he was gently fucking you through another orgasm, your cunt becoming so tight with the contractions of your walls that he too joined in your euphoria, grunting your name as he hunched over and kissed down the centre of your spin.

You'd not noticed that Cassian had also come against your chest until you moved back and saw the white slimy streaks as you sat back and the cheeky grin on Cass's face as he began to wash it off as you sat back into Az's lap.

Now, your body was threatening to entirely fall into the realm of sleep, and as the High lord took you into his arms, your eyes remained closed as you cuddled into his embrace. Using his magic, you were dried instantly so he could carry you to the bed without stopping, pulling back the covers and placing you into the centre of the bed.

He hovered over you, kissing every inch of you that he could reach, starting with your face and then down your chest as your fingers combed through his silky hair and then tugged on it gently so that you could kiss his mouth.

"I missed you. I nearly obliterated Devlon because he wouldn't stop talking, which delayed our return" Your fingers continued to stroke soothingly through Rhys' hair and cheeks. He did a whole body shiver as his wings appeared, draping across the bed, and your fingers moved to dance along the membranes, and his cock throbbed against your thigh.

It was one thing that you noticed with Rhysand. As much as the other two Illyrians confessed their wants and desires, when Rhys did it and made himself emotionally vulnerable to you, you knew that he was struggling more than first perceived. It had only been a day away, yet he needed presence. Your heart ached for him, for his past, his trauma that he tried to keep bottled up.

"I'm here; I'm not going anywhere", you reassured against his lips, tasting him and wrapping your feet around his hips until they were locked together. Much the same as Azriel, he moved slowly and methodically, his cock slowly sheathing inside your wet cunt, shuddering as you squeezed around him.

Cass and Az joined either side of you, watching your face react to the penetration of their High Lord, occasionally giving you encouraging touches and words as you came again and again until your eyes fluttered close with pure exhaustion.

Rhys rested his forehead against yours and, with a final snap of his hips, filled you fully with the spurts of come until it leaked and pooled on the bed. The ache throughout your bones and muscles was replaced with a more satisfied throbbing ache.

You were only half aware when you were suddenly moved as Rhys swapped position, so he was lying in the wet patch, and you were on top of him, your ear resting over his heart, listening to the rhythmic beat beneath. Multiple muscular arms wrapped around your back, and you were fast asleep before the lights flickered out.

#bat boys #bat boys x reader #bat boys smut #azriel x reader #azriel smut #cassian x reader #cassian smut #cassian #azriel #rhysand #rhysand x reader #acotar #acotar smut #mine*#rhysand smut

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cevansbrat0007 · 5 months

Text

The Scent of You

Summary: Ari loves the sweet scent of you, which is why he's content to live between your thighs.

Warnings: Smut, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Begging, Oral Sex (fem rec), Pussy Spanking, Slight Chase Kink, Light D/s themes, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @curls-and-eyeliner. Hopefully this is okay, ya'll. I'm honestly not sure if it worked the way I intended. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It’s no secret that Ari adores you, but you’ve learned over the course of your relationship that he is particularly fond of the way you smell. Your natural essence of spiced, sugared vanilla draws him in like a moth to a flame.

Which means he was always looking for a reason to touch you – to pull you close and breathe you in. Whether he’s hauling you against his broad chest to bury his nose in your hair while you’re cooking dinner, or he’s busy cascading soft, sweet kisses along the delicate column of your throat when you’re both snuggled up on the couch.

Your scent is like a drug. It calls to him – like a siren’s song – demanding that your handsome Bounty Hunter give in and help himself to his next hit.

This man is hooked on you and it’s honestly one of the most exhilarating things you’ve ever experienced. Growing up, you’d never dreamed someone would desire you like this; that anyone would want you in such an all-consuming way.

“I’m going to burn the chicken if you don’t cut it out.” You hum, smiling when you feel his brawny arms tighten around your waist. “And then we won’t have anything to eat but mashed potatoes and asparagus.”

“Mm. Then maybe we’ll just have to order-in.” His warm lips dance along your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Beast.” You try again, intending to issue a light reprimand. Instead your voice comes out soft and breathy.

“You can feed me my dessert while we wait.” Ari’s long, talented fingers travel to the waistband of your pink sleep shorts, lightly tugging at the drawstring. “Just think about it.” You briefly lose your train of thought as you find yourself trying to remember if you were even wearing panties.

You’re pretty sure that you’d neglected to put them on again after your shower. At the time, you’d told yourself that you were trying to save yourself from having to make another trip to Victoria’s Secret.

It wasn’t your fault that your Beast wasn’t always house-trained. He was the kind of man who had a propensity for ripping off your underthings and tucking them into his pocket. Which meant you often had to make adjustments to your wardrobe.

And all of it because the scent of your arousal drove him wild.

Your musings are interrupted when a sudden pop of grease splashes out of the cast iron skillet, just missing both you and your man. “Alright, hands to yourself now, Beast. We’re working around hot oil and I’d feel terrible if you got hurt.”

Jesus H. Christ, you should’ve picked another day to fry this incorrigible man some chicken.

Ari nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, gently nipping at your pulse point. “I just need a fix, baby. One little hit and I’ll be good for the rest of the night.”

“Ari…” You blow out an exasperated breath as you reach for your tongs to flip your meat. “You don’t even know if I’ve showered or not today.”

“Don’t care.” He grunts, one big hand reaching into your shorts to possessively cup your increasingly damp pussy. “You know I love how you smell. Almost as much as I love the way you taste.” Ari lips move on to kiss along the shell of your ear. A shudder courses through you when he tugs the sensitive load between his sharp teeth.

“I’m proud to wear my girl.”

Your thighs clench of their own accord, your empty walls clenching around nothing. Apparently your body was just as hungry for him as he was for you.

“Y–you can’t go around just saying things like that.” It comes out as a whimper as your cheeks heat, meanwhile Ari busies himself with grinding the heel of his lightly calloused palm against your already throbbing clit.

“Why not, Duchess? Am I being too crass for you?” He teases as his free hand comes up to knead your breast, squeezing with just the amount of roughness he knew made your knees weak. “Turn that shit off and come feed me. I’ve been dying to get between those thighs all fuckin’ day.”

“But–but…” Your eyes flutter closed even as you reach for the knob that controls the burner, switching it off. Maybe he was right. You hated to waste this, but you could always try again another day.

Preferably on a night when your very persistent Beast was working late.

“There we go. I knew my woman wasn’t the type to let me go hungry.” Ari murmurs, releasing his grip on your now very wet pussy in favor of tugging down your shorts. A growl rumbles deep in his throat as he watches them fall to the ground at your feet. “I knew you couldn’t be that mean.”

“You owe me chicken alfredo from Guiseppe’s, you animal.” You snarl, removing the pan from the heat.

“Consider it done, baby.” You could tell without looking at him that he was obviously pleased with himself.

God this man was an absolute menace. But he was yours, which meant you had to keep him. Hell, you were pretty sure that if you ever tried to put him up for adoption you were pretty sure he’d find his way home.

Back to you. Wherever you were.

Feeling bold, you wiggle out of the Bounty Hunter’s grasp, only to be surprised when he lets you go.

“Bet you can’t catch me.” You challenge, making a sudden dash for the stairs.

Of course you knew he’d catch you. But sometimes you liked running from your Beast – because he was the type to always give chase which would only add spice to the proceedings.

And just like you knew he’d be, your Bounty Hunter is on you before you reach the fourth step. A scream escapes you – but you both know it’s one of excitement. After all, Ari Levinson was every inch the predator. It’s why you lovingly referred to him as “your Beast”.

“Gotcha now, Duchess.” He hisses, a heady mix of exhilaration and pride coursing through his veins. And that’s when you finally notice the impressive tent hidden beneath the fabric of his light gray sweats.

God, you had a feeling this man was gonna wreck you tonight. You just hoped you’d be able to walk in a straight line come tomorrow morning.

Ari takes that moment to flip you over before gently maneuvering your body in such a way that allows you to slide down a couple of steps.

“Yeah, you caught me.” You breathe, your body aching for him. And then you part your thighs, feeling more than a little empowered when you notice the way his imperious gaze darkens with lust at the sight of your glistening cunt. “Now…what are you going to do with me?”

Grabbing the edge of your nightshirt, you slowly pull it over your head, baring your breasts. If this man wanted you and was so willing to *ruin* your dinner for it, then who were you to deny him?

Immediately, Ari buries his face between your slick covered thighs, his powerful hands coming up to quickly throw your legs over his muscled shoulders. A deep, satisfied groan of appreciation escapes his throat as he sucks your pulsing clit into his warm, waiting mouth.

“Holy shit!” You cry, burying your hands in his soft, chestnut strands. “Sir, please!” Your body begins to tremble as you’re treated to the most sensual of assaults.

One thick finger gently prods at your entrance, seeking refuge in your slippery cunt. At the same time, you feel Ari release your sensitive bundle of nerves, content to lap at it with his wicked tongue.

“That's it now. Fuckin' drench me, Bird.” He orders softly, his voice coming out slightly muffled.

And then pauses he pauses again – this time to nuzzle his nose against your slippery folds. Your entire body quivers when he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent and reveling in your wetness.

“My fuckin’ pussy.” Ari snarls, his flat tongue dragging a long, greedy swipe along your cunt. “Mine.” He pulls away long enough to slap your core in silent demand.

“Fuck yes!” You agree, eagerly rocking your hips in time with each delicious lash of his tongue. He swirls it over your little bundle of nerves, making your toes curl.

“Would wear you all day if you’d let me.” His nimble fingers begin to work you over, stretching you in the way he knew would make you crazy. “Proud to wear my girl.”

“Omigosh!Omigosh!Omigosh!” You wail, your velvety walls clenching around his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you.

“Promise to always feed me when I need it, little Bird.” You feel his teeth lightly graze your clit once more, loving the way it makes you thrash and moan.

That’s right. This man was breaking you down on your living room stairs. And it was so good that you couldn’t even be bothered to make yourself give a proper fuck.

Dear God, this was the most exquisite kind of pleasure.

“Don’t you dare let me starve.” His fingers curve inside you, expertly finding your spot.

Holy fucking shit your man was making one hell of compelling argument, as evidenced by sweet cries and your shaking legs.

“Never.” Your thighs tighten around his head, threatening to smother him even as you gush around him.

Just the way you knew he fucking loved.

“There we go -- yeah, that’s it.” Ari rasps, smacking your right flank, reveling in the way you clench around him as you continue to ride his face. Meanwhile, you’re busy writhing in your man’s arms, trying not to escape his grasp as that familiar coil of pleasure begins to tighten in your belly.

You know he knows you’re close. So he picks up his pace, clearly enjoying the way you’re coming apart under his feral loving.

“I just need one good one from you – just one good one to start. And then I’m gonna give you my cock.” He increases the pace of his fingers, not missing the way your head is thrown back in complete submission. “And after that, I’ll order you dinner.”

“Fuck, Beast!” You pant, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. "Whatever you fucking say - ooh!" Your open palm slaps against the wall as you try to run. But his grip is too strong.

Instead he simply chuckles before pausing his feast long enough to press one hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh - his teeth scraping over your damp flesh as he takes you higher and higher.

“And while we wait, I’m gonna go ahead feed you my cock.” He quips with a feral flash of teeth. “And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you eat every bite.”

END

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lovelyhan · 1 year

Text

— divorce child ⟢

you like to think that your most recent breakup with vernon ended on relatively good terms. there’s only one issue left to sort out: who’s getting custody of the cat you got together?

★ FEATURING; vernon x producer!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 9.2k words

★ TAGS; exes to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, smut (MINORS DNI!)

★ NOTES; 3/4 stories in the series are now up <3 i hope you like this bc i really just wanted an excuse to write something fluffy and adorable with vernon.... he's got me in my feels these past few days fr. small heads up that this fic also features a bunch of characters from again and again, the mingyu installment of the series. this story takes place a couple years after that fic, but you don't necessarily have to read that part to get the events in this one :3c

★ P.S.; this was not proofread as usual lol if you spot any mistakes, do me a favor and pretend they don't exist !

this is part of the doting on you! series.

★ SMUT TAGS; vanilla, clothed sex, wearing ur bf's clothes kink(?), unprotected sex, body worship, praise kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, the smut is just so sweet okay

★ SVT TAGLIST; @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @cheolhub - @Idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jinniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @jkbabiey - @featmia ★ SERIES TAGLIST; @exactlygreatcoffee - @gyusbabydoll - @jeonwonhi - @ti--red

“You sure you don’t need me to pitch in for this month’s check-up? I can always wire you some cash, you know.”

As you zip the pet carrier shut, you roll your eyes despite the fact that Vernon can’t exactly see your expression. Your phone’s sitting all the way on the coffee table but you were so preoccupied with wrestling your cat, Milana into the bag that you couldn’t exactly hold it like a normal person would.

“I’m good. You already covered for me last time, remember?” You remind him before taking the call off loudspeaker before pressing your phone to your ear. “I just got her inside the carrier. Might have to patch up a few scratches before we leave though.”

Vernon laughs. “She always hates going to the vet. It’s nothing too bad, right?”

“I’ve handled worse,” you snort before grabbing a couple of band-aids you keep around various corners of the house for this scenario specifically. “How about you? I thought I remembered Jihoon mentioning that today’s gonna be shut-in day. You know, that time of the month when you guys lock yourselves inside the studio to brainstorm lyrics together. Didn’t think you’d have the time for a phone call.”

“I always have time for a phone call when Milana’s going to the vet,” he says a-matter-of-factly and you can almost picture the warm smile on his face. The thought is enough to make your chest flutter, but you push the feeling down before it can completely come to the surface. “But you are right about shut-in day though. I might have to go in a few, so if there’s anything you need, you better tell me right now or forever hold your peace.”

“Nah. I told you, we’re good,” you insist with an eyeroll before placing band-aids on the scratches that your cat affectionately left all over your arms. “I’ll drop by the company later to drop off a mix that Jihoon asked me to mess around with. But if it’s shut-in day, I doubt we’ll get to see you.”

“Hmm. I can hide his Coke Zero stash outside so he’ll be forced to go out and get it?”

“Now that’s just downright evil.”

“It is. Anyway, aren’t you going to be late?”

“I already am, but Milana’s vet adores her, remember?”

“Nari adores everyone’s pets. Mingyu-hyung told me so.”

“Shush. You talk like our baby isn’t special,” you huff as you sling the strap of the pet carrier across your shoulder. “We’ll head out now. Thanks for checking in, Vernon.”

“...Yeah. Yeah, take care on the way.”

You end the call with your heart racing inside your chest. It’s not the phone call with your ex-boyfriend that flusters you, per-se. You work in the same agency, for god’s sake. Meaning, you’d be in deep shit if talking to him throws you off just because your relationship has already come to an end.

But whenever you jokingly refer to Milana as ‘our’ baby whenever you talk to him, it feels like you’re encroaching on something you’ve already lost a long time ago.

Your listlessness lasts until you pull up by the parking lot. Whether Milana’s staying at yours or at Vernon’s, this pet clinic at the heart of Seoul has always been your go-to. The fact that the attending veterinarian is Mingyu’s girlfriend does wonders to your final bills—she loves giving discounts to regulars and acquaintances—and you like to think you’ve found a friend in her ever since.

The automatic doors slide open when you walk in—Milana’s bag still slung over your shoulder. Chae, the receptionist, flashes you a bright smile before you notice the familiar golden retriever lying in front of the front desk. Old eyes flicker up to you for a moment before his tail twitches once or twice to signal his excitement.

“Good morning, Chae. Good morning, Namja,” you coo before crouching down to pet his head. “Is Nari waiting for me? Sorry for the hold up. It was a bit tough getting this one inside her bag.”

Chae lets out a soft laugh as she types away behind her computer. “Really? Vernon always gushes about how much of a sweetheart she is whenever it’s his turn to bring her in.”

You don’t know whether you should be surprised or embarrassed that Chae knows—or at least has an inkling—of your little arrangement with Vernon. When the two of you were still together, you always brought Milana in at the same time, but now you’re taking turns in bringing your little divorce child to the vet.

But hey, at least you’re still upholding your parental responsibilities, right?

“Of course he does,” you scoff with a shake of your head. “He knows better than anyone that getting Lana inside the bag is a nightmare. This one’s already her third this year. I was thinking of investing in a cage-type carrier instead but Vernon said it was like we’re sending her to prison.”

Chae sighs. “Men. Always so dramatic. Oh, but Doctor Nari’s waiting for you inside.” The receptionist glances at you curiously before you start taking Milana out of the bag so Chae could measure her weight.

It’s a bit of a challenge, handing your full-grown Maine Coon over to Chae, but despite the fact that she thrashes all around before vet visits, Milana has always been tame whenever she’s at the clinic. You manage to settle inside Nari’s office once your cat’s vitals have been measured and her vet is more than happy to see a familiar face.

“Well, if it isn’t Milana and her single mother,” she chuckles. “You here for routine check-ups? Where’s the father, though?”

You roll your eyes—fully aware that she’s only teasing. “Do you ask Vernon where’s the mother when he’s the one who brings her here?”

“Maybe.” Nari smiles before getting up from her desk and receiving your big cat into her arms. “Oh. She’s gotten heavier since the last time she came in.”

“Yeah, her father has been spoiling her with too much catnip. I only found out last week,” you sigh as you settle into one of the seats adjacent to the one across Nari’s desk. “But she’s been hairballing a lot recently. She doesn’t usually groom as much as she does now. Should I be concerned?”

She hums for a moment as she puts on her stethoscope—checking Milana’s heartbeat while her free hand examines your cat’s light brown coat. “Doesn’t look like she has any fleas or mites hanging around, but I can always do a scrape for you if you want the definitive results on paper. Though the excessive grooming could also be caused by stress.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Stress?”

Nari nods before hanging her steth around her neck once more, stroking Milana’s fur with calm affection. “Cats are more easily agitated than dogs. Lots of things can stress them out. Loud music, vacuum cleaners, thunderstorms… Actually, even a switch-up in their pet parent’s schedules is grounds for stress.”

You can only watch in silence as Nari scratches behind Milana’s ears, making your cat purr like a kitten despite the fact that her long limbs are spilling out of her vet’s arms. But regardless of how adorable she looks, Nari’s words got you thinking.

In the tail-end of the breakup, it was a topic that was brought up over and over: who gets to keep Milana? You both split half and half with expenses after the two of you adopted her at a nearby shelter. Not to mention, you both loved her in equal measure, so it was difficult to come to a decision that the two of you could soundlessly agree on. In the end, you settled with the compromise of taking turns watching over Milana because neither of you could stand not being able to see her for too long.

It’s been about three months since you and Vernon call it quits and three months since you’ve agreed on ‘splitting custody’. She stays with you on weekdays and with him on weekends—along with some exceptions for when one party isn’t available. It was also agreed that you’ll take turns bringing her to the vet every month to make sure nothing is amiss with her health.

But when you planned on paying Nari a visit today, you didn’t expect to find out that the fluctuating schedule you and Vernon made a deal out of could be a possible stressor for your cat.

“I think you should just keep her.” Nari suggests, a hint of concern creeping on her face. “You could always tell Vernon to visit Milana whenever he wants to, right? The back-and-forth travel is definitely going to take a toll on this one. Also, cats are smarter than you think. I’m sure she’s already sensed something’s off with her parents a long time ago.”

Milana heaves a deep sigh as if she understood every single word her vet just said and you can’t help the guilt that gnaws at your gut. You thought that this was the best decision you could make for both yours and Vernon’s sanity, but you completely forgot to take Milana’s well-being into account. You can almost hear Nari silently judging you, but you shake your head to rid yourself of the thought.

“We’ll… We’ll talk about it,” you reassure, swallowing the lump in your throat. “But…she’s okay, right? No serious health complications or anything?”

She rolls her eyes. “Sweetie, you’re literally the most responsible cat owner I’ve ever met. No one ever bothers to bring their pets in unless the situation’s already too severe to handle. So you’re good. Milana’s perfectly healthy. Just a little…sad, maybe.”

“Why would she be sad?”

Nari stares at you like you just asked something ridiculous, but thankfully she doesn’t dish out any half-assed remarks about it—opting to settle Milana back onto a nearby examination table to do a couple more physical exams.

“Have I ever told you that me and Gyu used to be in a similar situation in the past?”

You stare at Nari with a bewildered look while her gaze never strays too far from her patient. She even coos out little remarks of praise whenever Milana behaves. How can someone who’s this focused drop such a question in the middle of work?

“Vernon told me you guys split up and got back together after almost a year,” you tell her dryly, not liking the fact that you admitted your ex-boyfriend is a big gossip, but you don’t see any point in hiding the fact that you knew. “What brought it up?”

Nari’s lips twitch into a firm smile before she lifts her gaze to meet yours. “I just think that…you and Vernon? You’re kind of on the same boat we were in before we reconciled. It’s either the two of you are too stubborn or too afraid to see it for what it is.”

Too afraid to…?

“What do you mean?” you ask. “It’s best that we split up, you know? Relationships between co-workers can get ugly really quickly if we forget to be professional. I don’t want us to stop doing the things we love just because of some work-related spat.”

“Then the two of you should just learn how to segregate work from play,” Nari insists before smoothing her gloved hands across Milana’s long torso. “I’m not trying to meddle or anything, okay? It’s just that there’s virtually no reason for you to not get back together. You’re still taking care of Milana together, still checking up on each other, still working together—”

“There it is. That’s the reason why we can’t be together, Nari,” you groan at her stubbornness. “We’re still working together.”

She huffs. “Is there a clause in your company’s contract that prohibits romantic relationships among talents and staff?”

“I’ve never read the fine print, but I’m pretty sure there’s something along those lines somewhere in there.”

“Oh. Well, who cares? Milana needs a loving home where her parents can take care of her at the same time.” Nari then leans down to cup her face in her hands. “Isn’t that right? You need both of them to look after you, hm?”

“So you’re suggesting that Vernon and I should just get back together for Milana’s sake?” you ask half-jokingly and to your surprise, Nari nods like it’s the easiest question in the world.

“Well, I won’t make any assumptions by saying that you’re still in love with him, since you’re the only one who can say that for sure. But come on, do it for the not-so-little baby. You can just learn to love each other again in the process!”

You can hardly believe your ears. In the quick stories that Vernon shared about Mingyu’s girlfriend, you never expected her to be this carefree about the matters of the heart. It must’ve been her six-foot boyfriend’s bubbly personality rubbing off on her.

“Right,” you say with a shallow sigh. “Pray tell, why’d you and Mingyu split up in the first place?”

Nari’s eyes dart to the ceiling as if deep in thought as Milana nibbles playfully at one of her latex-covered fingers. The silence presses on for a few more seconds before she turns to you with a mellowed out expression.

“I thought we weren’t going to work because of how different our jobs are,” she admonishes quietly, lips spread into a thin smile. “But after being an idiot for almost six months, I realized that our jobs don’t matter. I love him. I don’t think I really stopped. Don’t think I’ll ever stop, actually.

“That’s why I was so surprised when I found out you and Vernon broke up three months ago!” Nari continues with a disgruntled look on her face. “The two of you spend so much time in the studio and at your apartment. You even have a child together!” She then gestures dramatically over to Milana. “So forgive me if it doesn’t make sense to me, why the two of you broke up. But won’t you reconsider it? For Milana?”

You shake your head. “Nari, some relationships just aren’t meant to work out. Just because you and Mingyu managed to make good on that second chance, doesn’t mean it’ll be the same with us. We’ve already…settled with what we have right now.”

“What, the endless pining and using the poor cat as an excuse to see each other?” She huffs again and, god, she reminds you so much of Mingyu now it’s actually funny. “Come on, sweetie. I’ve been in your place before, so I know perfectly well. Gosh, this must be how Seungkwan felt when I was still getting my shit together.”

Unsolicited mention of Seungkwan aside, you just don’t see any reason to pursue what Nari is convincing you to do. Nothing really changed after you and Vernon broke up. That’s one of the things you like about him—how easy it is to fall back into a comfortable friendship despite the history you shared.

But you aren’t going to deny the fact that it kind of sucks that you can’t kiss him anymore. Can’t lean into his chair in the studio to pull him into a hug. Can’t tell him you still love him even if…

Oh.

Fuck. You still love him?!

“Fine, fine. Since I have a couple more patients on the waitlist, I’m gonna let you off the hook. For now,” Nari grumbles before handing Milana back to you and taking a seat behind her desk. “Just stick to her usual vitamins and diet and she should be fine until the next visit. But if you want the stress problem to go away…”

“Nari,” you groan. “I’m not getting back together with him.”

“Hey, that is not what I was saying,” Nari rebuts with her hands up in surrender. “I was gonna suggest that you just lessen her traveling! Maine Coons are usually really active, but Milana’s a bit of a…homebody, isn’t she? Might not like all that moving around between yours and Vernon’s apartments.”

“But she’s literally with me five days a week. Won’t she have plenty of rest time then?”

“Oh, who am I kidding? Just get back together soon, pretty please?”

Yep. Mingyu’s definitely rubbed off on her.

When you get home later in the afternoon, Milana is quick to slink off to her usual spot behind the sofa to take a nap while you make a beeline for the kitchen.

It’s always been a post vet visit ritual to get take out to eat at home—even when you and Vernon were still together. However, you opted against the practice for now because not only does it remind you of your ex, but eating all alone in your apartment will only give you more leeway to think about the things Nari told you earlier today.

If you make your own food like you are now, your mind is at least preoccupied enough that you don’t have enough thinking room to even wonder if Vernon even wants you back.

By the time the sun sets, Milana is still dozing behind the couch and you have a potful of pasta noodles and enough red sauce to last you five days. Another thing that you overlooked whenever you cook inside the house is that you almost always cook enough servings to feed two people. Whether subconsciously or not, you can’t bring yourself to hate how your habits are still attuned to the lifestyle you had three months ago.

Before you and Vernon broke up.

“Work,” you mutter to yourself as you dump some pasta and sauce into a bowl. “If I work, I won’t think about him anymore.”

Not-so wise words from a not-so wise person because newsflash: the time that you and your ex spent in your studio is leagues more than the time you spent together in the bedroom. Vernon has already cleared out his leftover gear from your home office, but memories aren’t something he can pack up and leave with so easily.

You recall quiet afternoons where you’d bounce ideas about their group’s next song off each other—sometimes with Jihoon and Seungcheol connected to a Discord call, but more often in the privacy of each other’s company.

There were also gloomy days where it rained all day long. Milana would curl up on Vernon’s lap while he played around with the software on your computer—sometimes using the weird sounds she makes as samples to add into the mix along with the soft drizzle pattering against the windowpane.

But it’s even harder to just forget about all the times the two of you came together intimately within the soundproof walls. You can’t even count how many times Vernon has eaten you out while you’re perched on top of your work desk—one hand muffling your moans despite the fact that no one outside the studio can ever hope to hear you. The world is none the wiser when Vernon pulls you onto his lap, bouncing you on his length until he’s spilling into you with gratuitous release.

In the present, there you are in the ear-splitting silence of your studio—the music software your ex bought for you ages ago seemingly glaring at you for spacing out again. You know you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself since it’s easier to come up with the perfect beats when you’ve got a rough draft of the lyrics in front of you—something that Jihoon and Vernon are busy getting done today.

But still. You can’t help the frustration because you’ve been functioning normally since the breakup. Sitting in the studio didn’t usually lead to you reminiscing about the countless hours you and Vernon spent here together. Making dinner never made you miss having someone to eat across from you at the dining table.

If only Nari didn’t breathe a word about your ex-boyfriend and all the reasons why you should just get back together. Maybe you would’ve remained rational. Maybe you wouldn’t have started considering things that are beyond your control.

Maybe you wouldn’t be hoping so badly for something to happen.

You try to distract yourself by listening to and reviewing the mix you’re supposed to hand over to Jihoon today. The visit you planned on making to the company was canceled since neither he nor Vernon were answering their phones, which usually means they’re taking shut-in day seriously for once.

The track continues to stream through the speakers as you munch on your dinner, filling the room with a quiet melody that would make a great ballad once the lyrics are in place. But no matter how good Jihoon’s music is, no matter how delicious your cooking can be, it isn’t enough to quell the thoughts that have been suffocating you all day.

You still…love Vernon.

If you didn’t, your apartment wouldn’t feel as lonely as it does. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have to feel so awkward whenever you bring Milana to the vet all alone.

But part of you insists that you’re just being carried away by the ideas that Nari planted in your head. You’ve been doing fine on your own for the past three months. How is today any different?

Your senseless overthinking gets worse before it gets better.

The next thing you know, you’re scrolling through your gallery, unearthing pictures whose existence you’ve long forgotten about. You’ve spent almost three years with Vernon—two years officially before getting Milana on your second anniversary. Tons of photos were snapped, countless memories created.

You could’ve snapped more photos, could’ve made more memories if only you hadn’t split up. The fact that (what should’ve been) your third anniversary passed a few weeks ago, stings more than it’s supposed to. That day, Vernon jokingly asked if you wanted to celebrate by your usual spot in the park a few neighborhoods away and you jokingly rejected his offer by saying you had a sitcom to catch up on.

Part of you wishes you accepted the invitation. Maybe the joke could’ve been subverted into something real, and maybe you could’ve been back in his arms by now.

That night, you go to bed with a mild headache and a million thoughts racing through your mind. It isn’t Jihoon’s sad, mellow mix that drones on and on in your head, but a single question that you aren’t sure if you’ll ever get a proper answer to.

How can you still love someone you were so sure that you didn’t anymore?

Come morning, you wake up with a heart that’s heavier than last night and the glaring realization that Milana is missing.

Panicking isn’t usually your first instinct when it comes to your cat. Milana is fairly easy to spot because she’s built more massive than your regular neighborhood felines. But when you’ve already scoured the vicinity for your beloved Maine Coon, it becomes clearer and clearer that she’s nowhere to be found.

You ask around with your neighbors—fairly certain that they know what Milana looks like since she slinks out of the house every now and again. What makes this particular situation worrisome is that she hasn’t come bolting back inside your apartment when you brought out the goddamn catnip. So, when your neighbors begrudgingly tell you that, no, they haven’t seen an oversized house cat prancing around the area, you don’t know what to do.

“Wait, come again?”

“She’s missing, Nari,” you whine into your cell as you nervously bite down on your nails. “I… I was so sure that I locked everything last night, but when I woke up, the front door was wide open and Milana’s just gone.”

Your friend curses at the other end of the line and from the concerned voices in the background, you figure that you must’ve called at a busy time in the clinic.

“Sorry for bothering you,” you tell her while choking down a sob. “Just…give me a ring if ever you or Chae see her around the clinic.”

“It’s not a bother at all! I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” Nari sighs. “I’ll keep in touch. Oh, but it’s also worth considering that cats like familiar places. If you’re going to look for her, you can start with that.”

“Alright, thank you, Nari.”

After hanging up on her, you bury your face in the palms of your hands—sticky tears matting your skin as you breathe in sharply. You’ve never had to deal with a lost pet before. How the hell are you supposed to find Milana in a city that’s as big as Seoul?

You consider calling the police to file a report, but you’re not sure if pet cats even count for a missing person’s case. They wouldn’t be of any help if it didn’t. The only thing you can do right now is go outside and look for her yourself.

You’re quick to pull on an old sweatshirt you once nabbed from Jihoon before heading out—simultaneously texting every one of your friends about the situation as you scout further out of your neighborhood. Hell, you even contacted the animal shelter you and Vernon adopted Milana from out of sheer desperation.

Thankfully, a handful of them responded right away with a promise that they’ll keep a close eye out for any Maine Coons that surely don’t belong in their areas.

But no matter where you look, you always end up back to square one. It doesn’t help that Milana doesn’t usually wander too far from your apartment, which means that you have no clue where she could’ve possibly gone.

Nari mentioned that cats like familiar places, but the only places that are remotely familiar to Milana are yours and Vernon’s apartments.

Yours and Vernon’s…

You quickly bolt back to your place—scrambling to your car before fumbling to get the keys into the ignition. A few failed attempts and very loud cursing later, you manage to rev the engine to life. The next thing you know, you’re pulling into the street with an urgency that’s barely beating the speed limit.

Given that it’s still a weekend, you don’t have to come into work, which means that you have no idea what the boys’ schedule looks like right now. You’re not even sure if Vernon is in the same city, but you’d rather risk the off-chance that he isn’t in Seoul than do nothing.

You try your best to keep an eye on the road all while dialing up your ex-boyfriend as well as doing your best to obey every Korean traffic law there is. The first call goes straight to voicemail and you would’ve crashed into an SUV that’s idling by a red light if you hadn’t angrily brought down your foot on the brakes. Why the hell isn’t he answering?!

By the time you’ve made it to the street that led to his apartment complex, you’re already shaking with anxiousness. Dozens of uncertainties flit into your mind a million miles per minute. What if he doesn’t know where she is? What if he gets mad at you for losing Milana? Hell, what if he isn’t even here?

Shoving down all these biting questions, you park haphazardly across the street, locking your car behind you as you jog up to the steps that lead to the entrance. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that the receptionist at the counter still recognizes you—even going as far as flashing you a kind smile and informing you that Vernon is just upstairs. You wordlessly thank her for the tip before jamming a thumb on the elevator buttons.

You tap your foot impatiently across the marble tiles. Why the hell did Vernon choose to live in a place where you have to use elevators just to get home? Your apartment’s much more accessible especially in times like this when you feel like you’re going to explode with how fucking nervous you are—

The elevator dings when it arrives at the ground floor, making your nerves jump back into focus. You’re completely ready to brush past whoever’s getting out so you can come up to your ex-boyfriend’s apartment faster, but when you meet said ex-boyfriend’s surprised gaze at the mouth of the elevator, your prior urgency comes into a screeching halt.

He’s dressed like he usually is on lazy days—ugly checkered pajama pants, a tour shirt from some Western band that he probably hasn’t listened to a day in his life, and that perpetual bedhead he always sports whenever he just rolled out of bed.

God, he looks so good. It’s so fucking unfair.

“Hey,” he greets awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I was just about to head out and grab breakfast… Uh, make that brunch. Did you need something?”

You don’t even dare to dawdle. “Is Milana with you?”

Vernon cranes his head in confusion and the look makes your heart sink like a stone. “Last I recall, you’re the one who brought her to and from the vet yesterday. Aren’t we missing a couple of chapters here or…?”

You meant to explain the situation as concisely as you possibly can to him. Vernon’s always been an easy going guy. You’re sure that he won’t resent you for it when he finds out that you lost the daughter you’ve been sharing custody over. Even if some irrational part of your brain insists that he will.

But instead of coherent words, all that comes out of your mouth is a choked up sob.

The curve between Vernon’s neck and shoulder is as comfortable as you recall as you press your face against the crook of it—letting the tears run from your eyes and across his pale skin. You vaguely feel him wrap a protective arm around your frame while his free hand smooths down your hair and it makes you wonder why he’s patient enough to let you cry in his arms despite not having explained what the hell even happened yet.

He’s thoughtful enough to bring you to a more secluded corner of the lobby, calming you down by rubbing soothing shapes on your back with his hand and never letting you stray too far from his embrace. It helps that his low voice is there to keep you grounded—telling you that everything’s going to be fine and you just have to breathe, love.

It works after a few minutes and Vernon only lets you let go when he’s sure you’re not in danger of suffocating on your own tears anymore.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he murmurs, taking your hand in his. A small gesture that you’re too selfish to resist. “Is it about Lana?”

You nod weakly. “She’s…gone, Vernon. I have no idea where she went, but she’s gone.”

He hums in understanding and surprisingly enough, the understanding glint in his eyes never wavers. It’s a bit off-putting since you expected him to at least be shocked by the news, but it’s almost like he’s used to hearing that your pet cat just ran away.

“Right. I forgot to tell you about this new habit of hers.” He chuckles with an apologetic smile before one of his hands reaches up to wipe the tears off your cheeks. The close proximity has heat rising to your face, but you’re too stunned to react.

“I read somewhere that it’s good for Maine Coons to wander around to stretch out their limbs. Nari also told me last month that Lana could use the exercise, so whenever she comes over to mine, I let her out without supervision. She eventually finds her way to the lobby and just waits for me to come back if I’m ever running a little late.”

You listen to every word of Vernon’s explanation with a look of disbelief. All this time, you were worried sick about how he’ll react to the news that you lost your cat, but he’s been letting her go out and about when it’s his turn to look after her?

“Then where is she now?” you ask—not bothering to pick a fight with him now of all times.

Vernon hums for a moment as if considering the options and you don’t miss how his fingers tighten around yours when he gives you an answer.

“I might have a good idea.”

When Vernon suggested for you to head to the park just a few minutes away from your apartment as he climbed into the passenger seat, you merely scowled at him. “Milana is afraid of all the dogs that go for walks there. The only dog she isn’t scared of is Namja.”

“Just trust me,” he insists as you start the car. “Better we look there and find nothing than not look when there turns out to be something.”

His logic isn’t so flawed after all when he briskly leads you down a familiar walkway to an even more familiar location. It’s a small hill that’s got a perfect view of the river nearby. The upslope is lined with plum blossom trees that bloom even more vibrantly in spring and it just so happens that one of those trees is dubbed as yours and Vernon’s usual spot.

It’s where you and him usually hang out when the air in the studio has gotten a bit too stale to bring forth any sort of output. The outdoors can offer all sorts of inspiration when it comes to writing and producing songs and it’s common practice to make the trip to the usual spot when either of you are suffering from a nasty bout of creativity block.

And under the shade of the tree in the said usual spot is none other than Milana—curled up in deep slumber as plum blossom petals drift onto her pale brown fur.

You don’t even feel bad for rudely disturbing her from her comfortable nap, immediately pulling her into an abrupt embrace as you feel the tears welling in your eyes again. Milana lets out a strangled meow—claws straining against your skin with a threat of attack if you don’t knock it off. But you can’t bring yourself to care. You’d gladly use up all the band-aids in the world after she scratches you up if it means you can get to hug her for a few seconds more.

“There she is. All cozy at that.”

Vernon’s smooth voice startles you out of your relief—so overwhelmed to see your cat again that you almost forgot that you had company.

“I told you she’d be here,” he laughs before reaching out to pet her head. “You got us worried though. Don’t go wandering too far, okay, Lana? You scared your mom shitless, you know?”

Milana responds with a disgruntled noise but you can feel her claws retract nonetheless. Damn Vernon and the fact that he’s obviously the favorite parent…

She seems considerably happier when you deposit her into her father’s arms—nuzzling his chest with a satisfied purr as you and Vernon start to descend the hill.

But as he showers her with affection, you can’t help but sneak brief glances in your ex-boyfriend’s direction. Vernon has always been easy on the eyes. That’s one of the reasons you were drawn to him in the first place. But whenever you see him like this—laughing goofily as he teases Milana, the high of his cheekbones dusted red with a shower of plum blossoms gliding all over…

The gods are cruel to think you could ever put up a fight.

When Vernon comes over to bring Milana back to your apartment, you don’t expect him to stay for too long. He mentioned on the way that yesterday’s shut-in session was a complete success and that they’ve got all their work cut out for them. All they need is a green light from the higher-ups before Jihoon can start handing the song samples to the company’s usual team of producers—a team that just happens to include you.

So yeah, you don’t expect Vernon to linger because he’s obviously got a lot on his plate. The man hasn’t even had breakfast or brunch or whatever. So when he surprisingly decides to stay and rummages through your fridge for the pasta noodles and red sauce you’ve been saving for tonight, it’s like you never broke up with him at all.

The sight is almost too familiar for you to bear.

Vernon sitting on the kitchen counter, helping himself to some day-old pasta as his long legs dangled over the edge. Milana watching his feet sway around with keen eyes as she attempts to swipe at them with her claws. Not to mention you, who’s staring at the two of them like they’re the most precious things in the world.

“Hey, this is really good,” Vernon compliments with half his mouth stuffed with noodles. “You’re using that one Italian tomato sauce that I like, right? Man, I missed this a lot.”

You will yourself to snap out of whatever trance his presence has got you in before walking closer to him with a soft laugh. You lean across the counter, grabbing a fork from the drawer where you keep your silverware to help yourself to some of the pasta that he haphazardly tossed into the microwave.

“It could’ve been better if you heated the noodles properly in boiling water.” You shake your head. “Then again, you’ve always been impatient when it comes to food.”

“Not as impatient as Seokmin-hyung,” he snickers. “One time when we were still staying back in the dorms, Mingyu-hyung just put the lasagna in the oven but Seokmin-hyung was already yelling about when it’ll be ready to eat. Actually, he always does that even if one of us just pops something in the microwave.”

You shake your head, recalling the words of Nari’s receptionist, Chae. “Men. Always so dramatic.”

Vernon snickers in agreement. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

You fall into conversation with him so easily, it’s almost unreal. When Vernon finishes his food, the two of you eventually migrate to the living room—catching up with each other in a way that you don’t really have the time to whenever he comes over to pick up Milana from your apartment in the past.

Speaking of Milana, your cat acts as a barrier of sorts between you and Vernon, lying comfortably in the space that the two of you left unfilled. Cuddling up to him on the couch used to be so easy, it’s almost second nature, but now that you’re nothing but co-workers that are friends at best, you’ve got a lot more reservations than you used to have.

“By the way, I’ve been looking everywhere for that sweatshirt,” he muses before pointing at the graphic crewneck you’re wearing. “I thought I lost it in the laundry or that Seungkwan might’ve nabbed it when he came over to my place.”

“Why is he your first suspect?” you snort. “Also, what are you talking about? This is Jihoon’s.”

Vernon blinks at you, a little confused. “No, that’s mine. Jihoon-hyung must’ve borrowed it from me and let you borrow it after. When did you even get it from him?”

“Um. About a month ago?”

“That explains it then.”

You roll your eyes. “Look, if you want your sweatshirt back, I can just give it to you.”

“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” he insists, one hand drifting onto Milana’s head so he can scratch her ears. “You’ve always looked good in my clothes anyway.”

Silence fills the room almost uncomfortably at how easy it is for him to admit that. The sudden shift in the atmosphere occurs to Vernon a little late and the smile on his face falls when he realizes what he just said.

“Oh, I didn’t… I mean—”

“It’s— It’s okay,” you interject meekly, managing a shy smile as you tug on the sleeves of your—his—sweatshirt. “I always liked wearing your clothes too.”

You’re perfectly aware that you should know how to hold yourself accountable for the things you say. That goes the same for Vernon. So when the two of you willingly let the other hear such controversial things that co-workers-slash-friends probably shouldn’t be saying to each other, you’re not sure what to make of the situation.

Are you reading him wrong? Or is he actually reciprocating your misplaced longing, no matter how subtle? It’s always been hard to tell with Vernon, who’s never straightforward with what he wants to communicate. Always trusting that you would understand the nuance of his every action, his every word, when all they do is make your head spin.

The sight is perfectly domestic—lounging comfortably on the sofa after a good meal, both of your feet kicked up on the coffee table, and your big baby daughter purring quietly from where she lies between the two of you.

But even if three months doesn’t seem like a whole lot, it’s enough time for some…due changes to eventually set.

“You know…” Vernon starts, sucking in a deep breath almost like he’s nervous.

“Do I know what?”

His eyes flicker over to the ceiling as if praying for some sort of deliverance before forcing himself to meet your gaze again. There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t parse right away, and you wonder if you can ever understand what it is.

“I… I still listen to that old mixtape you gave me. Do you remember? The one you gave to me when we first met?” he murmurs quietly, bringing his hands onto his lap so he can twiddle with his thumbs. “Before we have to come up on stage and I start feeling nervous, I just listen to a softcopy of that mixtape on my phone. I still do now.”

That mixtape… He still has that? Moreover, he managed to save a softcopy and downloaded it onto his phone? You would’ve asked him how on earth he managed to do that, if you weren’t so startled about his sudden revelation.

“Your voice always gives me strength. Even when we weren’t together yet—even if we’re not together anymore.” Vernon purses his lips, a sad look eclipsing the sincerity in his eyes as he strokes Milana’s fur thoughtfully. “So I’m really sorry if you think I’m overstaying my welcome today. I definitely am. But I just— I just wanted to be selfish for once.I wanted to spend a little more time with you because I know you’ll go back to distancing yourself from me once I leave.”

When he turns to face you, you know it’s the real deal. There’s a spark of determination in his eyes that scares you a little—like he’s about to say something you’re not ready to hear yet regardless of how badly you want to.

But before he can get a chance to utter the words, your phone starts ringing on the coffee table. You’ve never swooped in to answer a call so quickly in your life.

“Hello, what’s up?” You nearly cringe at how bubbly your voice sounds as you get up from the couch.

“Hey, have you found Milana?” Nari’s voice flows into your ear, genuine concern lacing each word. “I asked Mingyu to look around with Namja, but no dice. I could contact some other friends if you—”

“It’s okay, Nari,” you interject, fingers drumming across your thigh. “We already found her.”

Your friend makes a curious noise. “Who’s we?”

You nearly balk when Vernon plucks the phone out of your hands, pressing it to his ear with a smug grin that you don’t usually see him wear.

“Who else?” he says. “Thanks for checking in, Nari. But we’re kind of…busy.”

The call isn’t even on loudspeaker but you can obviously hear the way Nari gasps like Vernon just unveiled some scandalous secret. “Oh my god. Are you—”

Vernon ends the call before tossing your phone back onto the couch, startling Milana out of her nap. Your cat flashes Vernon something similar to a dirty look before hopping off the cushions and sauntering off elsewhere. You just hope she doesn’t retaliate by wandering outside again.

But your cat’s newest penchant for wandering around is the last thing on your mind because even if you’re not facing him, you can sense Vernon’s towering presence directly behind you.

You don’t resist when he hugs you from behind—resting his forehead against your shoulder as he breathes out a shuddering sigh. His arms still feel like home despite being months into the breakup and you don’t know how to fucking deal with it.

“I still love you. Never stopped,” he whispers. “It was…completely stupid of me to think we’re better off as friends just because we’re coworkers. You’re too important to me. I don’t want to be your friend. I want to—”

You don’t even give him leeway to finish that sentence, whirling around in his embrace as you meet his lips in a quiet kiss.

In a split second, several things happen at once. Dying stars collide. Black holes collapse. Eternities unspool.

And you start to realize that you can’t live without Vernon Chwe.

“Shit, Hansol, please.”

Vernon loves how his other name falls so gracefully from your lips—loves how you frame the words in such an…interesting way. You only ever call him that when you’re feeling particularly strong emotions—happiness, anger, disappointment…

Pleasure.

He heaves a long sigh as he peels himself away from the home he’s made between your thighs. You’re not sure how long Vernon has been eating you out, but your brain is close to melting and you can’t process any other coherent thoughts aside from how your cunt still tingles from the orgasm he just gave you.

Your panties have long been discarded on the bedroom floor. All you’re donned with now is the old sweatshirt that you thought belonged to Jihoon but turns out was Vernon’s property all along. He insisted that you keep it on—emphasizing just how much he likes seeing you in his clothes before promptly robbing you of your capacity to think by eating pussy like it was his life’s purpose.

It doesn’t help that he looks so fucking delectable between your legs—big hands splayed across the sensitive flesh of your thighs as he looks up at you with a dazed expression. His lips are parted, still glossy from the aftermath of your release and the look in his eyes almost makes it seem like he’s the one who’s just been eaten out to completion.

“Fuck, ‘Sol,” you whimper, head falling back onto the pillows as you shield your eyes with your arm. You can’t even look at him without feeling like you’re about to combust. “Stop staring at me like that…”

Vernon leans down to pry your arm off your face—forcing you to meet his loving gaze before pressing your arm down onto the mattress.

“Like what?” he whispers, the blunt of his nail scraping against your bottom lip.

“Like you want to swallow me whole.”

His eyes almost crinkle with how wide he smiles at you and you nearly writhe with anticipation when you feel his drenched fingers prodding your slicked entrance again.

“What if I tell you that’s exactly what I want?”

Vernon’s mouth is on yours before you can even breathe, tongue bullying its way past your lips as he licks into your mouth. He slips the digits he used to tease you back into your wet channel and you delight in how he swallows your moans as he pumps them inside at a languid pace. Vernon has always been good at building your release from the ground up—never one to rush any orgasms he’s willing to give. As long as you feel good, he’ll exercise as much patience as he can.

“V-Vernon,” you gasp when he curls his fingers and thumbs at your clit at the same time, flicking your sensitive bud with just the right amount of pleasure that has your toes curling with pleasure. “Fuck, please, please—”

“Sounds so good for me,” he sighs, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before giving a delicious tug. “Wanna record all your pretty noises and use it in a song. D’you want that too, love? Want everyone to hear how nice you sound?”

The idea of him using your voice in the throes of pleasure for such a mundane thing sends a rush of heat straight to your core. You moan in reply, rubbing your needy cunt against his hand in a desperate attempt to get yourself off. Vernon chuckles against your lips and his teasing almost makes you pout, if only he isn’t so fucking good at finding your g-spot.

The first time he makes you come, it’s with his mouth and the second is after he expertly picks you apart with his fingers. But no matter how well Vernon knows your body, you still think it’s fucking unfair for him to coax orgasm after orgasm from you like it’s as easy as breathing.

“Hansol,” you whisper—brain too fucked out to segreget his two names properly. “Want you inside me. Want all of you.”

He shakes his head with an audible tut, slipping his fingers out of your pulsing hole. The action makes you mewl in protest, but Vernon brings those same fingers to your lips to silence you.

“You have to work on your patience, love,” he murmurs, angling his face a little before his lips descend onto your neck. “It’s been a while since I’ve had you like this… I want to savor you. You’ll let me do that, right?”

All you can do is answer him with a helpless nod.

His sweatshirt is off in a split second, revealing your body to him in a way that makes you want to hide underneath the covers. He gazes at you so intensely, it makes you wonder how someone you broke up with three months ago still looks at you like it's the first time.

Vernon writes poetry onto your skin with each caress of his lips, making sure you feel everything he’s doing to you as he leaves no inch of your body untouched. Sex with him has always been intense, not because he likes to fuck hard and fast but because he likes to take his time—to sink himself into your skin deep enough that you can’t ever hope to flush him out of your system.

That’s probably one of the reasons why you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop loving him. He’s become such a fundamental part of your life that living without him is the same as breathing without oxygen.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs as his lips latch onto your breasts. “So fucking beautiful.”

Vernon isn’t a man of many words. You’ve come to know this for a fact, so whenever he spills all these compliments for you to hear, it makes your heart swell inside your chest. A handful of other people have called you that in the past, but when the words come from Vernon’s mouth, it feels like the gospel truth.

Fortunately, your lover was never too cruel to you. Sure, he likes to instill the value of patience, but Vernon never found the appeal of bringing your partner to tears because of their unquenchable need for release.

He doesn’t even make you beg for his cock. Vernon simply lines up the tip with your swollen entrance before slowly pushing inside—dark eyes cognizant of every shift in your expression to make sure he isn’t hurting you. When all he sees is you whimpering from how good it feels to be split open by his cock, he knows he’s doing it right.

“I love you,” he whispers breathlessly—hoping the words won’t be lost in the midst of the mind-numbing pleasure. “I’m so in love with you.”

He ploughs you into the mattress slowly, deeply, wanting you to feel every inch of his cock as he fucks into you. Vernon is rarely vocal with his words when it comes to sex, but he makes up for it with the pleasurable sounds that escape his lips. And with how long it’s been since the two of you lied together like this, you wouldn’t blame him for feeling more unhinged than usual.

“I love you, too, ‘Sol,” you sigh but the words are eclipsed with a high-pitched keen when he amps up the pace of his thrusts.

“I love hearing you say that,” Vernon groans, biting his lip until he can taste iron on his tongue.

“Then I’ll keep saying it.” It’s a miracle how you manage to get the words out when he’s quite literally punching the breath out of your lungs with each stroke. “I’ll say I love you while you’re fucking me. I’ll say I love you even when you’re not.”

“I’ll say it all the time if it means you’ll come back to me.”

For a moment, the intense pace he’s set falters—eyes wide and mouth agape. You worry that you must’ve said something out of turn, but Vernon proves you wrong by pulling you forward into a tight embrace, fucking up into your tight cunt with a kind of vigor that you never would’ve associated with someone as easy going as he is.

“I’m yours, love.” he rasps against your neck, teeth grazing the skin just above the thrum of your pulse. “I’ll always be yours.”

The sudden switch in positions and the sincerity of his words is what pushes you over the edge a third time—making you cling onto Vernon like a lifeline as he continues fucking you through your orgasm. You can tell that he’s close. His strokes are more erratic, more frantic. Now that he’s brought you to the pinnacle, he doesn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t make it to that same paradise too.

When he comes, it’s a burst of white hot pleasure that singes through every single nerve ending in Vernon’s brain. You let out such an adorable little whimper as his cum coats your insides in generous spurts, filling you to the brim with his emission with the full intention of keeping it inside you for days.

But as much as he loves entertaining the idea of defiling you until everyone in the world knows you belong to him…

He’s always put great importance in the art of aftercare.

Both of you try very hard to ignore Milana’s judgemental stare as Vernon carries you to the bathroom—propping you up on the toilet cover first as he draws a warm bath. But from the way she dismissively leaves the two of you to your own devices after a few minutes, you like to think that you’ve gotten her seal of approval.

Your no-longer-ex-boyfriend gently lays you into the tub with him, reaching out for the soap on one of your toiletry holders as he massages you everywhere you’re sore. You let out a satisfied sigh before resting the back of your head against his firm shoulder.

“How’re you going to explain to the higher-ups that you’re dating one of their producers again?” you chuckle, placing your hand on top of his as he continues to clean you up. “Maybe I should just find a job somewhere else. A place where it isn’t illegal to have an idol as a boyfriend.”

“Maybe,” he muses before placing a firm kiss on your temple. “But whatever happens, I know I’ll always stick by you no matter what.”

You turn around, arching an eyebrow at him. “Even if it’ll cost you your job?”

You completely expect him to backtrack a little. Vernon is obsessed with you—you get that. But probably not to a point where he’s willing to breach the company’s contract just to keep being with you, right?

But for some reason, it sounds so fucking easy for him to say it when he whispers:

“Even if it’ll cost me my job.”

⟢ end notes: this is probably the sweetest thing i've ever written bc i personally headcanon vernon as someone who loves his s/o so deeply, it consumes him (like in a good way yk). i had so much fun writing this (esp since i got to sneak in vet!reader from again and again under the name nari hehe) so i rly hope you enjoyed it! do look forward to the last part of this series, which will feature resident catboy jeon wonwoo <3

this is part of the doting on you! series.

#svthub #seventeen smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #seventeen fanfic #chwe vernon fic #lovelyhan #full length fic 📚

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neteyamsyawntu · 1 year

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My Little Tawtute

Neteyam x Curvy!Human Reader

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

Synopsis: Your relationship with Neteyam was unique to say the least. Nothing ever going farther then some light touches and some cuddling, but what happens when Neteyam decides to push the boundaries of your relationship during one of his visits to the lab?

LIGHTLY PROOF READ

Warnings:🔞MINORS DNI🔞 SMUTSMUTSMUTTYSMUT, P in V, fingering, mentions of creampie, thigh fucking, friends to lovers(if you squint hard enough), size kink, interspecies relationship, dirty talk, dom!neteyam, pet names. (Let me know if I missed anything)

Tawtute -> Human

Today wasn’t necessarily the most busy day in the lab. You had gotten most of your research done by noon and for the most part you now found yourself just organizing things into virtual files, before moving your work to your room to start on your physical copies, being a very tedious note taker. You were half way through the pile when you were pulled out of your thoughts to heavy footsteps against the tile coming from down the hall. You look over to your open door just in time to see Neteyam crouch down as he carefully makes his way through the doorway, having learned the hard way from being excited one too many times and smacking his forehead against the frame. The realization of his carefulness coaxing a small chuckle from you. Neteyam’s ears perked at the sound, giving you a smirk in return, “You sound like you are in a good mood today.” He says as he closes the door behind him, moving to stand to his full height, only leaning down slightly from over your shoulder, observing the papers in front of you. “It’s been a pretty easy day, nothing too exciting. I’m just organizing all of this to keep myself busy at this point” You say with a content sigh, swiveling around in your desk chair to look up at the nearly 10ft tall na’vi. Neteyam gives a small nod, taking in your words as his smirk slowly spreads a tad wider, “And.. when do you think you will be done with your… organizing?”. You give a small shrug as you casually look over your stack of notes and your tabbed storage container, which was sorted by importance of category, “Mm… hopefully not too much longer- here let me set up your spot”. What had become Neteyam’s spot was simply just some extra pillows and blankets you had, that you arranged for him so that he wouldn’t have to sit on the cold tile floor for too long, which of course he showed no issue with, but still appreciated the gesture. Rising from your chair, you made your way over to the tall wardrobe on the farthest wall of the room, Neteyam’s eyes glued to the way your exposed thighs rubbed against each other as you walked, watching the slight jiggle that was created with each step. It was one of the things that drew you to him; despite your own insecurities about your body, Neteyam was fascinated with the curvature of your body, only really being accustomed to the lean, slender build of the na’vi. You were different in the best way possible.

Although his initial attraction to you started with your peaked interest and passion for learning about Pandora and the culture of his people, the more time he spent with you, the more he would catch himself staring at your body. Staring, slowly led to daydreaming, to fleeting touches, pushing the boundaries further and further to get close to you. The relationship between the two of you was unique for lack of a better term. The two of you were close, very close in fact. With na’vi being monogamous creatures by nature, as soon as Neteyam started to feel a more intimate attraction toward you, he silently made his claim on you, always making sure you were not left alone with other men for too long without him being present and even cuddling with you during your down time. Sometimes your cuddle sessions would turn somewhat heated, fueled by Neteyam’s wandering hands and his need to squeeze the thickness of your thighs, but none of it went farther than some suggestive touching and cautious kisses. Neteyam’s eyelids became heavier as he watched you set everything up on the floor, his tail swaying intriguingly behind him, “How's this?” You asked, kneeling on the floor as you adjusted some of the blankets. Neteyam slowly lowered his body onto the soft surface of the blankets and pillows, his face creeping closer and closer to yours as he stared straight through you with his large golden eyes, “Nearly perfect…” he hummed, before shifting to lay his head down on your lap, his eyes closing contently as he nuzzled gently against the plush of your thighs, “Mmm.. much better” he purred with a slight pull in his throat. You were used to his advances by now of course, yet they never failed to manifest butterflies in your stomach at his forwardness.

“Neteyam, I still have work to do..” You state with a small pout. Neteyam’s ear merely flicks at your weak attempt at a protest, opening his eyes to gaze up at you with a playful glint in his eyes, “Just stay with me like this a moment… then you can go back to your ‘work’, I promise” his words almost have a sarcastic tone to them as he shifts his position to run his nose along the skin of your thigh. You sigh before giving a soft giggle, moving a hand to pet his head, “You’re just like a needy house cat, you know that?”. Neteyam scrunches his nose a bit at your comment, his tail shifting to tap against the pillows in a slight annoyance, “I do not appreciate being compared to your Earth creatures.”. It was so easy for you to tease him, which only made you want to do it more. You had shown him pictures on your laptop of certain animals native to your planet one day, whilst the two of you were exchanging information about your own respective planets, when you continued to point out some of his own feline features that reminded you of the small furry creatures, which prompted the same reaction of an unamused nose scrunch. Either way he continued to allow your soft caresses, humming as he shifts his body to lay on his side, facing your body. A deep blush begins to form on your cheeks as you watch him. How his nostrils twitch as he pokes your inner thigh with his nose, just below the hem of your shorts, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “Neteyam what-”, “-You smell so good, tawtute… so sweet.. right here” he hums as shifts his head to brush his flat nose against the crotch of your shorts. You could feel your heartbeat begin to double at his words and actions, your body stiffening as he takes a deep inhale of your scent, pressing his nose against the zipper of your shorts.

You flinch at his assertiveness, watching him with wide eyes. This wasn’t necessarily out of character for him, but he was definitely pushing the boundary of your usual intimate touching. To have his face so close to your clothed cunt, blatantly smelling your arousal, it nearly made you feel light headed as tension started to build up between you. “Teyam… “ you whisper, gulping slightly as the air in the room almost seemed to become thicker, harder to breathe. Neteyam reluctantly lifted himself from your lap, nearly high off of your scent alone, desperate for another hit, his eyes heavy with lust, as he rose to his knees, “Turn around…” he ordered in a low almost strained voice, as if it was taking him every morsel in his body not to pin you beneath him and claim you as his. You shivered at his tone, giving a slight nod as you slowly rose to your feet, turning your back to him. Listening as Neteyam lets out a pleased hum, a soft gasp suddenly escapes your lips at the feeling his large hands taking hold of your hips, pulling you to press your back flush against his chest, his nose immediately finding its nesting spot in the crook of your neck, having another intake of your scent. Neteyam’s hands slowly creep down to the swell of your thighs, his fingers squeezing the fat there firmly as he releases a groan directly into your ear. “N-Neteyam… This.. this is a little.. Uh..” You are hardly able to put your thoughts into a cohesive sentence. Your brain was yelling at you to reject his advances, but your instincts and the tightening in your stomach as his nails lightly dig into the skin of your thighs, wanted nothing more than to melt under his touch. “Are you uncomfortable, yawne? Do you want me to stop?” he purrs into your ear, his lips grazing its shell, waiting for your consent before he continues, “N-no..I just… you’ve never held me like this before.” You breathe as your eyelids flutter at the thought of what could be going through Neteyam’s mind. The power he had over you felt intoxicating.

Neteyam lets out a soft chuckle, enjoying how nervous he’s making you feel, the heat of his breath on your ear, sends a shiver down your spine, “Do you trust me, tawtute?” he asks in a soft sultry tone. Giving him a slow nod, Neteyam responds by parting his lip to lick a thin stripe up the length of your ear, instantly sending another shiver down your spine, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as the action pulls a whimper from your throat, “Good…”. Neteyam begins to massage your thighs in slow circles, his fingers spreading out to encompass the width of your thighs, continuously squeezing the flesh there, his thumbs lightly caressing your exposed stretch marks periodically, releasing a deep groan into the side of your neck, as his eyes are glued to his repetitive movements, “So beautiful…”. A small whine escapes you at his words, your breath hitching as you feel something firm, pressing against the back of your thigh, while Neteyam shifts his right hand to allow his index finger to rub against the hem over your crotch, pressing firmly enough for you to feel friction between his finger and the fabric of your shorts. Your brows pinch at the sensation, head rolling back to rest against his shoulder as you release a staggered exhale.

A satisfied smile forms its way onto Neteyam’s lips as his eyes move to watch your pleasured expression, “Are you enjoying this, Y/N?” He asks, already knowing full-well the answer, as he examines your face, mouth agape and eyes closed tight as he adds more pressure to his long digit, dragging it across your clothed folds, too caught up in the feeling to answer him straight. “Answer me sweet girl…” his voice rumbles against your ear, his nose gliding down the side of your neck, “Haah… mmm- yes… feels.. really good.” you respond between shaky breaths, your mind beginning to spiral as his thumb drifts to push open the button of your shorts effortlessly. “Hmm that’s my good girl..” as the words leave his mouth, another swipe of his tongue finds its way down your jugular, toward your collarbone, the sensation tingling your sensitive skin enough for you to grip the forearm, of his hand that was working on shimmying your shorts down your thick thighs, as a reflex. As your mind finally becomes conscious of what Neteyam was trying to do, the sense of urgency fueled by your desire takes over, prompting you to move your hands to assist him in shoving your shorts down your thighs, pushing past the slight resistance of your thighs, kicking them away the moment they fall to the floor. “You seem eager, little one” Neteyam says with a soft chuckle as fingers hook themselves around the band of your panties pulling them down as well, tossing them to the side after you step out of them, before his hands work their way up your legs to reclaim their place back on your thighs. His right hand shifting to lightly lay over your mound. Your body shivers as the cold air brushes past your naked folds, breath hitching the moment Neteyam’s finger slides through the wetness that had built up at your entrance, collecting the wetness enough to bring his lubricated digit to your clit, rubbing slow repetitive circles against the bundle of nerves. Your back instantly arches at the sensation, your hand moving to cover your mouth, muffling your noises, to which Neteyam immediately removes your hand with his free one, bringing the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a firm kiss against it as he eyes you hungrily, “do not hide those pretty noises from me, sevin… let me hear you” Neteyam purrs a he begins to rub slightly firmer circles into your clit while simultaneously beginning to grind his throbbing erection against your leg.

“Ohh! Ahh- oh god..” Neteyam’s ears flick as your whiny moans fall from your lips, responding with his own low growl at the sound, “Yes… that’s it, yawne… s-so so pretty…”. You can hear his own voice begin to waver as he grinds his erecting firmly against your leg, his brows knitting together as the sensation starts to become too much for him to handle. His eyes land on the puddle of slick that had built up on his hand from massaging your folds, “Y/N… do you mind if we try something?” He asks in a slightly shaky voice, as he loops a hand behind his back to expertly untie his loincloth, allowing it to fall to the floor at his knees, his cock springing up, smacking lightly against your thigh. Your eyes widen at the feeling, unable to stop yourself as your curious hand reaches behind you to run your fingers along his shaft, earning a trembling hiss from Neteyam, “Y-yawne, wait.. you don’t have to do that… Oh…”. Looking over your shoulder at him, eyes now half lidded, watching as Neteyam leans his head against your shoulder while unsteady, heavy breaths leave his lips, as you wrap your small fingers around his cock, giving him slow yet firm strokes from base to tip. His shoulders rise and fall with a bit more urgency as his breathing becomes heavier, absolutely crumbling at the way you’re touching him. Biting his lip, Neteyam puts his hand over yours to halt your movements, pulling you off of him, “S-stop… you’re gonna make me cum like that… just- spread your legs a bit more.” He requests, letting go of your hand to place his own on the swell of your ass, his fingers hungrily digging into your cheeks, spreading them apart slightly, causing you to whine as you eagerly follow his orders. Neteyam places a hand at the base of his cock, steadying his breath as he brings you closer to him, pressing your hips flush against his front, guiding the length of his cock to slide right up against your sopping cunt, pulling pleasured sounds from both of you at the contact. “Good… n-now close your legs for me”, “W-wait, close them?” You ask, giving him a somewhat confused look. “Yes, tawtute.. close your legs for me… please”. You could tell he was becoming more and more desperate by the shaky plea that left his mouth. Complying with his wishes you close your legs as much as you can with his cock sitting between your thighs, Neteyam’s hands gripping your hips tightly as he holds back a strained groan, “J-just like that… perfect…”. Taking in deep breath Neteyam pushes his cock through your thighs, using your slick as lubrication, your eyes watching as his tip breaks free from the containment of your closed legs, a content sigh leaving his lips as Neteyam once again has to remind himself to keep his restraint, to not plunge himself straight into your tight, unprepped pussy.

Your body began to tremble, feeling as a potent heat spreads through your core you could feel your cunt aching as Neteyam began to use your hips to slide you back and forth on his cock, using your thighs to fuck himself. His palms moving to pull your ass cheeks apart to watch the base of his cock disappear between your thighs over and over again, “Oh shit, yawne… haah.. you're doing so well for me.. Eywa, you’re so wet…”. A high pitched whine rips from your throat as his thick shaft glides effortlessly over your folds and clit, coaxing out small squelching noises from the push and pull of his movements, your hips occasionally jerking at the sensation of his cockhead hitting your clit a certain way. “Ahh.. Teyam I- I can’t..”, Neteyam immediately stops his motions at your words, thinking he may have done something wrong, or that you weren’t completely as comfortable with this as you had led on. Leaning in close to your face, Neteyam nuzzles against your cheek in attempts to comfort you, his cock continuing to throb and twitch at the loss of friction, “What is it, tiyawn?” He asks a little out of breath, as he tries to reel back his mind to focus on you and your needs. “I… I need more.. please, Teyam.” You beg in soft whimpers, as your hand reaches down to caress the tip of his cock that was poking out from between your thighs, causing his hips to jerk slightly at the sudden touch. Neteyam stares down at you with wide eyes at your boldness before his lips twitch into a smirk, releasing a low chuckle from his chest, “Oh my little needy tawtute… you have no idea how hard it is for me not to pin you down and have my way with you.” He purrs against your cheek, before shifting his head to place a firm kiss on your temple, “But I would hurt you. Your small little body is not made to take such.. large intrusions”.

You pout letting loose another needy whimper as you lean forward enough to shift your hips to align his tip with your rubbed out pussy lips, “I can take it.. I promise… or I at least want to try- please Neteyam… I need you” you whine desperately as you begin to stir your hips against his cockhead, already feeling how it would take him a good amount of effort to even force himself inside of you, as his tip barely passed through your lips. Neteyam takes in a sharp inhale at your actions, gritting his teeth as his hold on your hips becomes nearly bruising as he fights against his own internal conflicts, “Y/N this is dangerous.. I’m serious, you could really get hurt”. You groan at his protests, knowing that he was right, but he had already given you this much, let you feel him, touch him, and your body only craved more. Your pussy throbs in anticipation as you take matters into your own hands, attempting to push yourself down on to him, “Fuck it! I don’t care, hurt me then. Neteyam please I can’t take it anymore.” Before you can even process what is happening, your head is pinned to the blankets below you, ass in the air as Neteyam continues to hold you by the back of the neck, keeping you in place. Looking over your shoulder you can see the dark look in his eye, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as he indulges in his own primal instincts for a moment. Leaning over your backside, Neteyam drags his tongue up your spine, pushing your shirt up as he goes, until he reaches the center of your shoulder blades. With one hand Neteyam maneuvers your shirt to bind your wrists with it, rolling the excess fabric into a small knot. His voice is a low growl in your ear, “If you want it that badly, then be a good girl and let me properly prepare you.” Releasing his hold on your wrists after ensuring that your wadded up shirt would do the job, Neteyam snakes his hand behind your rear, moving down toward your exposed glistening cunt, giving it a rough slap, not enough to hurt, but to at the very least stimulate your aching hole, enough to cause you to cry out, “You said you wanted to be hurt, isn’t that right, tawtute? Hah.. such a naughty little thing..” he coos to you teasingly as he rubs the flesh of your ass, before directly inserting his middle finger down to the last knuckle into your throbbing core. Your breath is caught in your throat at the unexpected entry, thinking he would have maybe given you some sort of warning, only finally finding your voice as he begins to pump the digit inside of you, letting out a breathy moan in partial relief from the aching in your deprived walls.

“Is this what you wanted? Begging for my cock and now you can’t even speak, all because of my finger. Go ahead, beg for more, little one… beg me to stretch you out properly” he orders you in a deep growl, as his fangs graze the flesh of your shoulder. Without any hesitation, you eagerly answer to his call, “M-more! Please, Teyam put another finger in… ohh it feels so good…”. With a sly smirk Neteyam shifts his hand back, watching your expression closely as he forces his last two fingers into your hole. Your brows pinch together at the sudden stretch, mouth falling agape as you find your voice temporarily missing again, before releasing a strained mewl. Neteyam placed a kiss on your shoulder, choosing to be a bit more patient with you, soothing your discomfort, considering the drastic adjustments your body was having to make, before slowly moving his digits in and out of you, massaging the gummy part of your walls. Continuing to release a stream of shallow breaths and moans, you find yourself fisting the blankets beneath you as Neteyam’s fingers masterfully find your g-spot, watching how your body squirms every time he hits it. “O-oh god.. Tey- Teyam I’m close!” You warn, feeling your legs start to tremble, your knees struggling to stay upright in your current position, “That’s it… cum for me, my little tawtute. Cum on my fingers.”, his words ring in your ear like an undeniable command, almost as if your body was hardwired to appease his wants, prompting your body to immediately obey his orders, as you feel your core tighten more and more before you burst, screaming out in ecstasy. The tightness of your cunt practically pushing his fingers out of you, leaving a thick string of slick connecting his fingers to your throbbing cunt. You nuzzle your face into the blankets as you come down from your high, desperately trying to regain control of your breathing, you turn your face to look over your shoulder, just in time to catch Neteyam’s predatory gaze as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking and sucking your juices tentatively, his tail swaying possessively behind him, “How is it that you taste this good?… Sweet.. yet tangy like an utumauti… or I think you humans call it banana fruit.”. You throw a half hearted, exhausted laugh his way as you slowly move to sit up, your mind fogging as you assumed this was the end of your intimate session, that was until his large palm presses into the middle of your back, pushing you back down, forcing you to arch your back for him, ripping a surprised yelp from your weak form, “You’ve been such a good girl, yawne… I think it’s time I give you what you’ve been begging for.” Neteyam hums, rubbing his shaft along your dripping folds, biting his bottom lip as he collects your remaining cum on his shaft, his ears flicking when his actions are rewarded with the sound of your breathy sighs, “Unless of course you have changed your mind?” He teases you, pressing his tip firmly against your entrance, restraining enough to wait for your green light to insert himself into you.

“Tey, stop teasing me and give it to me already!” you pout, pushing your ass to meet his advances, nearly causing his tip to slip inside of you, earning a shaky moan from the na’vi male behind you, slowly turning into a rough chuckle, “I don’t think I've ever met anyone so desperate to be torn apart. Very well, tiyawn… relax for me” he coos, leaning into your ear, placing a gentle kiss on it’s shell before leaning back, firmly placing his hands on your hips, holding you in place and then you feel it, his cockhead forcing its way into your cunt, assisted by your preexisting lubricant. The stretch was unlike anything you had felt before, making his fingers seem feeble in comparison, yet feeling as Neteyam pushed himself further and further through your walls, you knew that without having taken his fingers first, you would have certainly been torn apart. Your back arched further as the weight of his pelvis caused your knees to spread further apart, gasping as the action drove him deeper inside of you,“I-It hurts, Tey…”, “You’re doing great, yawne… just a bit more..”. His tone is soft and affectionate, in his best attempts to comfort you. No matter how much he teased you, it did cause him pain to see you in such discomfort, nearly on the verge of tears as you lay your head flat on the floor in defeat, allowing your body to fully relax as you accept your fate. Just as Neteyam had promised you, with a few more pushes into your tight walls, his cock had finally reached as far as it could go, his tip nestled against your cervix, releasing a heavy exhale into the crook of your neck, as he tried to keep his composure despite how hungrily your pussy clenched around him, “Oh Eywa… you feel incredible, yawne.” He mutters in a barely audible whisper as he nuzzles into your hair, taking in your scent to calm his nerves, his hands falling from your hips to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling your rear flush against his pelvis, his tail curling at the sensation of being so deep inside of you. His eyes trail over you as your expression finally seems to relax, carefully resting his forehead against your temple, placing a kiss on your cheekbone.

“I am going to start moving now… ok?” He coos into your ear, placing another kiss on the top of your head after you nod in approval. Steadying himself with a final breath, Neteyam slowly begins to roll his hips into you. “Mmmn…Oh my… ohh!”, you moan out as your heart is beating at a thousand miles a minute, the pain slowly melts into pure arousal. The feeling of the stretch was still there of course, yet oddly the discomfort in itself became satisfying. Gripping the shirt that still bound your hands, you began to rock your hips back to meet Neteyam’s thrusts, taking him off guard for a moment at your sudden eagerness, nevertheless it fuels his desire to want to pound into you that much more, “Look at you taking me so well…so deep.. and so tight” he purrs low into the back of your neck between moans, his breaths becoming slightly heavier as his hips begin to move a bit more passionately, nuzzling into your hair once more as his own desires grow more intense, “You’re so tiny…oh you sky person…” Neteyam whispers breathily into your neck, chuckling softly at the pathetic whine you let out in protest of this specific pet name, only encouraging him to buck his harder into you, admiring how his movements cause your tongue to fall past your lips as your mouth hangs open to allow string after string of moans and whimpers to emerge. The small room filling with noises of ecstasy as well as the sound of skin slapping against one another as Neteyam steadily loses his composure, rutting into you with intense love and carnal desire.

Moaning out at the feeling of a sudden tug at the base of your skull, Neteyam uses your hair to pull your head backward, forcing you to stare at the ceiling while his mouth hungrily attaches itself to your neck, leaving dark marks all along its surface, leaving his claim on you, so that everyone- sky person and na’vi alike would know who you belong to. The familiar tightness builds up in your core again, as the mix of sensations work together to send you into overdrive. Neteyam can feel it too. The way your cunt is clenching and unclenching more rapidly around him, he knows you are getting close. His arm that his still wrapped around your middle moves to descend his hand down between your thighs, rubbing at your overstimulated clit, immediately causing your entire body to tremble once again, albeit more aggressively than before as your orgasm ripped through your body before you even had a chance to give a proper warning. Neteyam’s ears perking to full assertiveness, basking in the pleasured sounds of your climax, eyes nearly rolling in the back of his head as he uses them to chase his own release, “Oh.. yawne.. yawne, ah- I’m cumming…” he warns, panting heavily as he feels his cock attempt to twitch within the confines of your tight cunt, before he releases his load inside of you. Pulling out slowly after taking a moment to catch his breath, Neteyam lays down beside you, pulling you into his strong embrace, as he gently runs his finger tips up and down your back as you come down from your high. Your own fingers caressing his chest in a slow kneading motion as your eyelids grow heavier and heavier. The room was quiet, only the sounds of your soft panting and sighs filled the space. Neteyam holds you closer to him as his hand lifts from your back to gently caress your cheek, his hand nearly twice the size of your head in comparison, “My little tawtute… so beautiful.. mine…” he mumbles into your hairline, pressing a gentle yet firm kiss on your forehead. The sound of his soft whispers and his strong yet calm heartbeat lulling you to sleep in his arms.

I'm so proud of myself for getting this fic out when I said I would. Well kind of, I'm technically a day late, but shh. I didn't wait till after I woke up the next day, so it still counts. TIME IS A SOCIAL CONSTRUCT AND I SHALL NOT BEND TO ITS WHIM. N E WAYS I hope you guys enjoyed this! It was honestly super fun to write and god, something about human x na'vi pairings just do something to me.

If you'd like to be added to my tag list to updated on stories and major posts, go comment on my Welcome To My Blog post.

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oracle-of-dream · 4 months

Text

Photo Finisher

Minors DNI

Summary: Yechan is from the rookie idol group, 82Majors, and his managers have set him up in the studio to get some amazing photos. But he's heard of your other prizes for good behavior, so he's interested in your other services...

Warnings: Male Reader, Blowjob, facial, degradation, domYechan, cum eating

Wordcount: 1.7k

You spent your morning selecting the songs for the playlist vibe you needed for today's photoshoot. Rookie idols were always tricky to deal with. Most were scared so stiff that they could hardly count as models...

Today, Yechan from 82Majors was your muse. The appointment was a last-minute order from management, and someone must've paid a chunk of money to call you in before noon. It's a part of your contract that you don't have to work before noon without an extra fee determined based on your mood for the day. It was 8am, so you told your boss to push for 40% higher than your usual rate. This usually moved companies away to pick a later time, but your boss immediately texted you back, telling you to get ready.

It was ten minutes before the photoshoot was supposed to start. Your staff set up everything from lights, cameras, software, and canvases. There was murmuring in the prep room, which is the room before entering the main studio, which meant the client had arrived. After some time, likely for hair and makeup to work him over, a young man with brown hair and strong cheekbones entered and greeted you.

"Hello, photographer y/n. It's a pleasure to be working with you, and thank you so much for taking our call so late minute." He bowed deeply.

"Yeah, hi. Just called me, y/n. Photographer y/n is a little much."

The boy nodded. "I-I'm Yechan, from 82Major!"

"I know who you are. I read the paperwork," you replied dryly.

Your morning coffee hadn't kicked in yet... This was going to be an extremely rough morning.

Yechan took his time to go around to the rest of the staff and introduce himself to each of them, handing out small gift bags from his company.

You looked at your phone for the time. 8AM.

"Okay, that's enjoy chitchat. I'm already at 30% on the irritated scale, and being behind schedule will make it jump to 50%."

With your clear directions, everyone hopped to attention and started scrambling to their stations. Yechan hustled off to get his hair and makeup re-touched before stepping onto the canvas.

"Yechan, if you have any issues or questions with the photos, tell me. The one thing I hate more than waking up early is someone who can't speak on issues.

Yechan nodded eagerly and took followed directions beautifully. Every single angle, down to the degree, was perfect. Clearly practiced. Because of that, you managed to wrap up the first set of photos easily.

"Let's take 10 and switch outfits. We're making excellent time, so let's keep the pace up." You announced to the team.

As you went back to your studio chair, Yechan approached you meekly.

"Yes?" you asked without looking at him, more interested in your phone.

"Um... I'd like to ask you about your services, sir." Yechan mumbled.

You rolled your eyes before looking at him. "My services? I'm a photographer. I take pictures. Be clear about what you want."

"Okay, then I'll be straightforward." Yechan took a deep breath before continuing, "I'd like to please you."

You raised an eye. "Please me? I'm happy enough that we're ahead of schedule. You want me to be happy? Keep working hard."

Yechan shook his head. "I don't know if there's some sort of secret code or something... it's honestly a little embarrassing to just say, you know."

You giggled in your seat, finally looking up from your phone. Yechan was a pretty good-looking man. Knows his angles, good body proportions, and a face card that doesn't look like it'll decline with its high limit. You bet he was about 6 1/2 inches, with a left curve. You read that he was from Canada and the brother of another idol, but you can't remember the brother's name...

You sat back in your chair. "Do you mean you want to have sex with me, boy?"

Yechan's face got pink instantly. "Well, they said you were really frank. But I still didn't–"

"So it's a no?"

"It's a yes! I do want to have... s–sex with you."

You smiled. "And what did you have in mind, young man?" The age gap between you wasn't big, but you could tell he was melting from you treating him like he's the younger in this situation.

"I want to do whatever makes you happy."

"So you have no plan? That's not very well prepared of you."

"I'm pretty skilled though! I got a few tricks!"

You smiled bigger. "Tricks? And what if I refuse? Yechan's face turned white. He clearly didn't consider the possibility of you saying no to him. "You didn't think I was some prostitute, did you? That you could just say, sex, and I'll give it?"

He shook his head, "No! Of course not–I'd never think that."

"Then tell me, what would you want? If you can have anything from this."

He looked around before getting closer to whisper. "Um... If I could choose. I think I'd be really into cumming on your face after you suck me off, and maybe I call you a few names and stuff..."

"Oh, that's it?"

He shrugged. "I'm a rather simple guy..."

"Then, simply guy, let's finish this up so we can get busy," you winked at him as you went off to find more of your staff, leaving him alone with a clear boner.

The photoshoot resumed, Yechan in his new outfit. The crop top really complimented his figure, and honestly got you more excited for what was coming. You could also tell he was pretty excited. His cock could barely stay inside his pants, a few pictures had his tip peeking out, and you personally deleted those to save him from the embarrassment.

After the photoshoot, Yechan went into the dressing room to get changed. You dismissed the staff for the night, thanked everyone for being present, and then walked into the dressing room.

"Hello? Anyone home?" You called.

Yechan let out a small yelp, covering himself. "I'm in here!"

"Yes, obviously. I came here to find you." You closed the door and locked it behind you. "I'm here to give you the reward you requested for being such a good boy today."

Yechan's face was red, his shirt and underwear were on, but his pants were still on the floor.

You winked at him, "easy access? For me? How considerate."

"That's not–"

You dropped to your knees and started crawling over to him. "This is your reward, remember? Anything you want goes, but if either of us says stop, we're done."

Yechan nodded, still covering his crotch.

You crawled right up to him, your face inches away from his dick. "Are you going to hide all day? Isn't it your desire to take charge?" You unbutton your shirt, letting it sensually slide down your shoulders, but not taking it off completely.

"So, I can just go?" Yechan asked again to be sure.

"Yep, just–" Yechan pulled your hair and pushed you into his crotch, making you huff his musk. Slightly sweaty, but pretty clean. You could feel his cock throbbing under the thin fabric, 6 1/2 inches, and curved to the left... You moved your hand to touch it, but Yechan slapped it away.

"Did I tell you to use your hands, s–slut!?" He hesitated at calling you a slut. But the submissive look in your eye reaffirmed him. "Use your mouth to take it out."

You maneuvered your mouth to his waistband, nose grinding against his abs, and dragged his boxes down. His cock smacked you in the face as you moved. His balls were heavy and full, he was throbbing like crazy, and even a slight graze earned a guttural groan. Yechan had really been waiting for you...

"Get to work, whore."

You look up at him, still keeping your hands off him as you caught his cock in your mouth and started licking.

"More than that, I don't want you half-assing it. I'm a busy man!" He pulled on your hair, pulling you into him to make you take more.

Yechan was starting to get more into it, which made you want to mess with him. He wouldn't last long if you tried to push him to it, but if he's so busy, then he can handle it. You straightened your back, corrected his hand to move your head and not pull your hair, and relaxed your jaw. Yechan noticed the change in your attitude as he started getting greedy. Pushing you deep, holding you there, all while telling you how much of an attention whore you are. You pressed him more, flattening your tongue and turning off the gag reflex. You were taking over.

"Wait, holy f–fuck," he moaned as he grabbed a nearby table. "Oh, you're so good. So, so, good at this." You squeezed his balls, earning more praise. "My balls too! Fu–fuck, baby just like that. Keep chugging it." He pushed you down, controlling the tempo, making it faster. "Your mouth is amazing, I–I'm gonna fucking cum." He almost whined as you pulled off of him, jerking him off and licking his tip. His pressure was building. Fast. "Please let me cum on your face!"

You giggled. "Say it in character!"

Yechan's words were still fumbling. "I–I will cum on your face?" He questioned before you squeezed his balls firmly. "God Damn," his cum shot out and landed on your face. "My... g–god." He wouldn't stop, pump after pump. It was at last 8 pumps, full of cum, now on your face. Each was accompanied by a thrust and whining moans from Yechan. You stroked him through it all, milking him completely before giving the tip a lick and a kiss.

"All done?"

Yechan breathlessly smeared his cum on your face, using his cock. Pushing it toward your mouth. "I'm sorry for the mess..." He said breathlessly.

You pulled out your phone and took a picture with Yechan. Cock still out and cum on your face, but a little less as you wiped some off. You put the tip back in your mouth for your picture, earning more begging from Yechan.

"P–Please! No more, I can't cum again!"

You help Yechan finish getting dressed and clean yourself up, sending him on his way and adding his photo to the folder with the others...

#82major #yechan #oracle of dreams #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #yechan 82major #82major smut #yoon yechan #yechan smut #82major x reader

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spookwyrdie · 2 months

Text

Call Waiting...

sub!Changbin x dom!reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: You haven’t been quite honest with him about your visit. Nothing makes Changbin more relaxed than a little play date, and it’s been a few weeks since he’s had the time and energy to get on his knees for you. You've decided to take matters into your own hands, literally.

genre: SMUT, office AU, gentle femdom

warnings: adult dialogue, sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, gentle femdom, semi-public sex, office sex, on-the-phone, mouth kink, handjobs, edging, mild choking

18+ only, minors DNI

a/n: This is shameless smut, I can't stop thinking about sub! Changbin tbh.

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I've only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

Sharp heels click on the lovely marble floors as you saunter your way from the reception desk towards his office door. The space is a lovely mix of black and gold, the furniture sleek and the space tidy. You take your time, knowing that the sound of your heels will greet him before you get to his office door. You raise a perfectly manicured hand and rap your knuckles on his door.

It swings open immediately, Changbin’s face beaming in surprise. “Y/n! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He swoops you into his space, closing the door quietly behind you. The smell of dark leather and a clean cologne greets you. The sleeves on his crisp white dress shirt are neatly rolled up, black suspenders in place, the top button of his collar undone. The definition of his wide shoulders is highlighted by his attire. His muscles bulge with every small movement he makes, your eyes are roaming all around his body before you realize he’s waiting for you to reply with a smirk on his face.

You hold up the takeout bag in your hand, “I thought today would be a nice day for a lunch date. Don’t worry, I checked in with your assistant before I came over, I know you have a free hour or so to spend with me.”

“I’m expecting a call in a little bit, but I can always make time for you,” he says as he drapes an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek lightly.

You set the bag down on his desk and start taking out the little plastic trays arranged so artfully. “I made a special order to our favorite sushi place just for you. You deserve it.”

He moves the scattered papers on his desk, placing them into a black folder. He was apparently hard at work before you came to surprise him with lunch. He moves to his chair and settles into it with a weary sigh. “I’m glad you’re here, my love. It’s been a tough one today with this client and you’re a wonderful distraction.”

You hand him some chopsticks and put together his meal for him. “I could tell something has been off for a few days, sweets. You need something to help you relax, which is why I'm here.” You toss him a wink, for good measure. You eat together, comfortable chat about nothing in particular passes between you two, giving Changbin a small reprieve from the mental strain he’s been dealing with.

You haven’t been quite honest with him about your visit. You love bringing him lunch on a particularly stressful day, but you have your own ulterior motives. Nothing makes Changbin more relaxed than a little play date, and it’s been a few weeks since he’s had the time and energy to get on his knees for you. You haven’t had him writhing and whining beneath you in an age and you’re beginning to miss it. You never press the issue but seeing how worked up he’s been getting from constant tasks, you have decided to take matters into your own hands, literally.

After you both finish up, he leans back and pats his belly with a contented sigh. “Thanks love, I really needed that.”

You stand and walk around his desk slowly, swaying your hips for good measure, stopping within inches of him at his chair. “You still look tense; I’ll give you a little shoulder rub before I go.” You put your hand out for him to pull him out of his chair and sit in his place. You pat your lap, gesturing for him to get comfortable. Changbin looks at you for a moment, you can watch the gears turning slowly in his head, trying to anticipate how this will go. In the end, he gingerly sits on your thighs.

You wrap your arms around his midsection and pull him flush with your body. Changbin sits a little taller than you from this angle which is perfect for peppering the back of his neck with small kisses. He giggles and cranes his neck away; you love how ticklish he is. Your hands on his shoulders begin to knead slowly, finding all the knots and tension in his broad back, massaging them out and turning him into putty in your hands.

Soon his head is lolling to the side, entranced by your fingers and your care. It gives you the perfect opportunity to scrape your teeth lightly at the junction between his neck and shoulder, drawing a whimper out of him as he rocks his hips forward. You latch down and give a light suck to his skin, not enough to leave a mark but enough to have him collapse back against you with his hands gripping the armrests of his chair hard. You chuckle into his neck, “Feeling a little sensitive today?”

He whines at you poking fun at him as one hand snakes around his waist and the other wraps around his neck. He is pliant in your hands, a delicate squeeze has him moaning “Darling…” You smile against his skin at the use of your title, the little detail telling you he’s slipping into the deep neediness he’s been denying himself these past few weeks. You’re “Darling” when he wants you to take control, turn him into a babbling mess, and lose himself in you.

He’s grinding subtly in your lap at the pressure you’re applying to his throat, seeking any sort of relief. Your hand around his waist wanders around his body, brushing up against one of his nipples and you feel his stomach muscles contract. He shudders a deep breath out as you slowly rub the sensitive bud, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink hue. The hand on his neck remains, barely applying any pressure, just a feeling of reassurance collaring him. Changbin grasps at your arm with his hands, an anchor for him, something to hold onto while his hips jolt upwards.

Your hand abandons his nipple to slide down his torso, feeling his abdominal muscles jump at the contact. It travels further down to rest in between his thick thighs, muscles straining the material of his well-tailored pants. He’s already desperately hard, practically throbbing through all the layers of fabric as you drag a nail up his constrained cock. He picks his head up to from your shoulder to watch your hand dance around his length, mesmerized by your movements. Just when it seems like you’re about to grasp him fully, you move to tease him a little more by dragging your nails up his inner thigh. His cock twitches in his pants and he shudders against you with a whine frustration.

“Shhhh…” you whisper in his ear as you squeeze a little tighter to the sides of his neck. “If you want to cum, you have to be good for your Darling, okay?” He presses his lips together and nods, a small mmmph noise huffing out of him. “Good.”

When your hands leave his neck and his cock, he gasps at the loss - only to let out a strangled squeak when you grab his suspenders, pull them up, and snap them back down against his chest. The metal adjusters on the straps sting his pecs, so you smooth your hands under the straps and push them down his shoulders, making sure to pay careful attention to the sore skin underneath the metal. You press a kiss just beneath his ear and he melts back into you with a hiss.

The crisp shirt tucked into his pants gets wrinkled when you pull it free from his waistband. Your fingers nimbly unbutton his pants, sliding the zipper down at an excruciatingly slow pace, making sure he feels the vibrations of every tug against his cock. Your hand slips down and you palm him over his tight boxer briefs, his hips shaking as he grinds into your hand. A small wet spot has already appeared on the fabric concealing his cock from your bare skin, his whimpers come out low and staccato as he lifts his head again to watch your hands again.

You chuckle at his desperation, “I hardly need to do anything, I bet you could cum from just thrusting up against my hand like this.”

“N-no-” he begs. “I can be good!”

“Oh? Can you?” His hips are still gyrating into your hand.

“Yes, Darling,” he stutters out, his hips halting beneath your touch, his thighs beginning to tremble from the effort to keep still.

“Good job, sweets. You’re being so good today,” you murmur into his ear. Your palm leaves him, and you hear a protest start to rise in his throat, his breath hitching when your fingers dance along the elastic of his waistband. Gently, you trail them underneath the elastic, to the sensitive skin of his pelvis. His hips begin to shake again as he holds his breath, hungry for your approval more than he wants to chase his orgasm. Your pinky finger lifts the elastic away from his body slowly, pulling up inch by inch until - snap! You let it bounce back onto his hips again as he hisses at the slight sting.

You push the elastic down his hips enough to let his cock spring free from its confines, slapping against his lower belly. It’s already red and weeping and you drag one finger through the wetness beading up from the tip of his cock. Bringing it to his lips, you press gently into his mouth. He sucks at your finger, groaning at the taste and you watch more pre-cum leak out of his pulsing head.

"Feet up against the desk,” you say, tapping his thigh. He obliges, lifting his feet and bracing them against the edge of his desk. In this vulnerable position, his body is curled in, relying on you for most of his support. “If anyone walks in right now, they’ll see how much of a good little slut you are for me.” Your whisper in his ear has him shivering against you. “Say it, ��I’m a good little slut.’”

“I- I’m a good little slut,” he pants out.

“Good boy.” You raise a cupped hand to his mouth. “Spit.”

He drips saliva into your hand, coating your fingers.

You grip his cock in your hand lightly, spreading his saliva onto his cock, still teasing him with the barest contact. He mewls at your touch, throwing his head back against your shoulder. You clamp a hand over his mouth as you begin to stroke him, long and languid movements, letting him feel every inch of movement. He throbs in your hand as he moans through your fingers. “If you’re not quiet, I’ll have to shove something in your mouth.”

He can’t help it, he’s already so fucked out, so deep inside his need for pleasure he can barely hear you. He whimpers as your hand leaves his mouth to reach down for the hem of his shirt. You lift it up, exposing his belly, a soft layer of flesh covering the thick muscles of his abdominals. Bringing the hem of his shirt to his mouth, you press it against his lips until he’s biting it between his teeth. “Good,” you murmur into his ear, as you take his earlobe between your teeth. His moan is muffled a bit by his shirt, and now your other hand is free to roam his torso again.

With the fabric of his shirt lifted to his mouth, your fingers easily find his exposed nipple, grazing it softly. His abs lurch at the touch, “Oh fuck,” he muffles through his shirt. He leans back again, pressing into you, as he cautiously thrusts up into your hand with every stroke. There’s a fine sheen of sweat coating his forehead now, the effort it takes not to drive into your hand, to chase his high, shakes through his whole body.

Just then, the shrill ring of the phone makes him gasp. Still at the mercy of your hands, he’s conflicted – ignore it and let you continue or do his job and pick up the phone. He’s already trembling, caught in the middle of his chaotic thoughts when you make the decision for him. Leaning forward, you take your hand off his nipple and reach for the phone. You pick it up gingerly, pulling the corded phone towards you as you lean back again, your other hand never leaving his cock. He turns to look at you, wide eyes and panic flooding his features. You place the receiver against your ear.

“This is the office of Mr. Seo. Please wait a moment while I connect you,” you grin at him with mischief in your eyes. You hand him the phone.

“H-hello, is this Mr. Lee?” His voice is remarkably steady for someone who was just panting through the cotton of his shirt a moment ago. A deeper blush erupts on his face at this twist.

“Yes....I’ve got a draft of the contract drawn up for what we’ve discussed,” he continues. You marvel for a moment at his professionalism and the sadistic side of you wants to push him. Your hand begins to stroke him again slowly, squeezing around the base of his cock with every down thrust.

“Yes....As per our agreement, the ffff-” his eyes slam shut, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration. “The forms should be f-faxed over later this afternoon...” He begins thrusting into your hand again, matching your unhurried pace.

“What?...Oh, yes.... I’m fine. Could we schedule a follow-up later? I apologize, but I have... an urgent m-matter to.... attend to,” his breaths becoming fast and hitched again. “I appreciate your f-flexibility, Mr. Lee.” He yelps as you nip at his neck again. Turning towards you, his eyes lock onto yours with a mix of frenzied desire and frustration at this turn of events. “T-thank you. Good-bye."

He lets the receiver drop to the floor once he hears the click and dial tone on the other end. Changbin turns to you, ready to scold you for that kind of move during a call, but you swoop in for a kiss and he melts. He whimpers into your mouth as your tongue caresses his and you start fisting his cock once again. You break the kiss and murmur against his lips, “You did such a good job, sweets. I think you deserve a reward for being such a professional.”

That aching hunger is painted on his face again as he nods, “P-please, Darling.”

You squeeze the base of his cock again, pre-cum trickling down his shaft, adding to the dripping wetness of his cock. A lewd slick noise fills the room as you pick up the pace. He starts to whimper again, eyes clamping shut and thrusting into your hand. You shove your hand into his mouth, gripping onto his lower jaw, to keep him from making too much noise. He moans again as he sucks hard on your fingers, the pitch of his whimpers getting higher. “I’m gonna c-”

You stop and grip the base of his cock again, hard. He spasms, a wanton whine like gravel in his throat, protesting the loss of friction. He whines around your fingers again, this time in a pleading tone, his eyes wet and sparkly with unshed tears. He lurches forward in your grasp as you coo into his ear, not letting him reach his high just yet. “I said you deserved a reward; I didn’t say it was going to happen right away.”

Changbin’s practically pulsating in your hand; you could feel his heartbeat twitching in the veins of his cock. You wait for his body to still, fighting to get control, to be good, because he knows nothing feels as good as your praise. As he relaxes into your arms again, you begin pumping his cock again, toying with it. You pop your fingers out of his mouth and grip his neck again. You apply a light hold to his neck, not constricting his airway, so his panting breaths still come freely. His hips start rocking again on their own accord, you know he’s in another headspace all together now, fully surrendered to you.

His hips start stuttering again, grunting against your hand around his throat, pushing himself into your grasp. Your thumb and middle fingers squeeze a soothing pressure into the sides of his neck. He’s trying to string some words together and failing, fully babbling at your hands. “P-plea-please,” he tries to say.

“Hmm? What was that, sweets?”

“Please....m-may I cum?”

“Please may I cum, who?”

“PLEASE may I cum, D-” he’s losing his words again, thrusting full speed into your hand, gripping onto your arm, balls tightening as he tries to hold himself back. “DARLING.”

“Of course, sweetheart. You just needed to ask politely.” You release your hold on his throat and bite down on the sensitive part between his neck and shoulder with that.

Changbin cries out, cock twitching in your hand as his hips stutter, losing their rhythm. With a few more pumps, he’s gushing, spurting all over his stomach, his chest, even his desk. His hands come to grip the chair behind your head as his hips rock through his orgasm. You clamp a hand over his mouth again to keep his volume down, but he’s gone, groaning into your hand as his whole body shudders. You milk Changbin through his orgasm until his whines take on a painful edge and he starts pushing your hand away, kicking his legs up to get away from the stimulation.

He collapses back onto you, totally spent. Your hands are the only thing keeping him in place or else he’d probably fall to the floor. You press small kisses to his face and neck as you bring him back down to earth. Your hands trail around his body, reviving him slowly with comfort. Your fingers card through his hair and he sighs into your touch.

After a few moments, he chuckles. “I’m going to have to teach you proper phone etiquette.”

You scoff in a mock horror, “Are you saying there’s something wrong with the way I answered?”

“Yes,” he giggles, eyes crinkling up. “You answered.”

“I was just helping you with work, my love.” You press a chaste kiss on his temple. He sits up to turn around. His body still shakes a little as he takes your face in his hands for a long kiss. As he pours emotion and gratitude into the kiss, you boil over with pride, a warm feeling erupting in your chest. He leans back, just a breath away from you, tenderness in his eyes and rubs little circles on your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Well, Darling,” he says, putting a cheeky emphasis on your title. “You can help me with work in other ways.”

His face grows serious and tender for a moment. “Thank you for this today, really. Only you can make me feel this relaxed when I’ve been having such a hard time.”

You peck him on the lips again, smiling into your kiss. “I do it because I love you.”

“Oh, only for that reason?” he says as he stands, pulling up his pants and readjusting his shirt and suspenders. He offers you a hand and pulls you up from the chair into his arms.

He kisses your nose, and you blush. “I’ll see you at home,” he says. “And if you think I won’t be returning the favor because of work, you’ve got another thing coming.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #changbin x reader #changbin x y/n #seo changbin #changbin #stray kids #smut #changbin smut

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moonlightndaydreams · 6 months

Text

Body Language

NSFW // minors do not interact

Pairing: Lee Minho x female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers // romance and smut

Word count: 5.2k approx. mostly spicy smut 🌶️

Story: whilst attending a gathering at Felix’s apartment, you meet his new housemate, Minho. You don’t speak Korean, and Minho knows very little English, but somehow he understands exactly what you need.

Warnings: mentions of physical disability (reader has a hand impairment and wears a leg brace), anxiety and body image issues. Smut warnings below.

Note from Sorsha: This is my first piece where I talk about disability and body image issues. A person’s experience of living with disability is unique to them. I’m not implying that all people with disability experience anxiety or self-consciousness around their disability. But I do personally live with a physical disability and can only draw from my own experiences. Unfortunately my experience doesn’t include having hot sex with Minho 😫

Smut Warnings: unprotected piv sex (pull out method 🫣), oral sex (f. Rec), nipple play, aftercare.

I hope that even if you don’t have lived experience of disability that you still read this story as I think the character will still resonate with many of you.

Love you, and enjoy xxx

—————————

You take a deep breath as you approach the door of your friend’s apartment and ring the doorbell. While you wait for an answer, You look down at your chosen outfit. A White floral print on duck egg blue background ensemble of a tight tank top and matching maxi skirt. The skirt has a split up the front of one leg, your “good” leg. You always seem to refer to that leg as your “good” one. It isn’t even all that good, it just works better than the other leg. The one with the leg brace. No heels for you, but you’re sporting you favourite white sneakers. You run your hands over the fabric, satisfied with how you look today. You look great, and this party is going to be fine. You tell yourself.

But as you wait for the door to open, you can hear many voices from the inside of the apartment, and it makes you feel sick.

It isn’t the leg brace that makes you self-conscious, or that your balance isn’t so good. You actually “embrace the brace” because it is a tool to help you do what you want and need to do. It’s your hands that are the problem. No one can really see anything is wrong, not unless they look closely and really pay attention. But they hold you back from interacting with the world the way you want. Your impairment makes fine motor tasks near impossible. You can’t even undo buttons to save your life. And writing, well that went down hill at some point in the last three years, and you can barely fill out a form these days. Not being able to play guitar anymore is pretty shit too.

But your biggest anxiety inducing situation is eating in front of strangers. Cutting up food is awkward, holding finger food is risky for the floor and your clothes, and fucking hell, if chopsticks are involved you’re doomed to starve.

You are anxious. You hadn't anticipated how anxious you were going to feel when you told Felix you’d come to celebrate his promotion. But of course Felix didn’t quite know the full extent of the dread that filled your body whenever you had to be in a “dining” setting. You’d confided in him about your fears and anxiety somewhat, and he’d promised that it would all be okay and you could use anything that would help.

“It’ll be just a small gathering, y/n.” He’d smiled at you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You didn’t want to say no.

And now here you are, at your friend’s. You have turned up. You haven’t bailed.

But you you want to run away. No. You will stay, even if you don’t get to eat.

“Y/n!!!” Felix beams at you as he opens the door. “Come in, love.” He steps to the side allowing you to enter the apartment. Sure enough there are a dozen or so people already mingling and chatting. Music was playing from a Bluetooth speaker over on the right.

“Are you feeling, okay?” Felix whispers in close to your ear, and you nod and swallow hard. You’re not really okay. You tell yourself that nothing bad is going to happen. That no one is even going to care, and as you find a place to sit and take in your surroundings, you realise no one is even looking at you. See, it’s fine. This isn’t that bad. You are okay. You don’t recognise anyone, they seem to be Felix’s work friends, whereas you are his childhood friend, but after about ten minutes of polite hellos, and introductions, you begin to feel your nerves settle just a little bit.

“Y/n, want a drink?” You look up to see Felix offering you a can of soft drink. You nod and your eyes flicker to the man standing beside him. A man you have never seen before. This must be Felix’s friend from Korea. From what Felix had said previously, he has moved here for a while for work and study. What is his name again?

“This is Minho.” Felix gestures to the man standing nervously beside him. Minho. “Hello, Minho. I’m y/n.” You smile. But Minho simply nods curtly, barely making any eye contact with you.

“He’s nervous. He doesn’t speak much English yet.” he chuckles and opens the can of drink for you before passing it to you. You use every ounce of concentration to grasp the can securely, hoping to god you don’t drop it and spill it everywhere. Satisfied you have got a good hold on the can, you look up to find Minho has disappeared.

“Oh, he’s gone?” You say surprised.

“He’s just gone to start bringing the food out. He loves cook-”

“Lix!” A voice from across the room cuts him off.

“Excuse me for a sec.” Felix pats you on the shoulder as he walks away in the direction of the voice.

Minho returns the room shortly after with trays of what looks to be various finger foods, and begins to place them on the coffee table and dining table that has been set up to the side of the living room. Mini pizzas, fried chicken pieces, some type of vegetarian situation, and several other awkward looking foods that you were not planning to attempt to eat. Although, it all looks absolutely scrumptious. You feel your stomach rumble and you regret not filling up on food beforehand.

You watch the other people pick some food and use flimsy napkins as plates. It looks so easy for them, and you feel a pang of jealousy. Stop that now. You tell yourself. How can you solve this problem? You need an actual plate, and maybe a coffee mug to have another drink in, you think, looking at your tight grip around the now empty can. You look around the room and see Minho standing to the side watching the positive reaction to the food. Everyone is absolutely loving it. You look back at Minho again and catch his gaze on you. He looks at you quizically and then turns to go back into the kitchen. Fuck! You must look like a stuck up bitch.

Okay, let’s go find a plate and a fork, and a cup, or you’re just going to miss out on eating altogether. All you need to do is get up and go to the kitchen. This is always how your internal dialogue goes. You need to plan in your mind how you are going to navigate your surroundings. Are there any obstacles you need to work your way around? Which is your quickest route?

You enter the kitchen surprised to see Minho still working away chopping food, even though there is already plenty of food in the living room. Your eyes drift over his frame, and you’re surprised by the flushed feeling in your cheeks. He is attractive. Felix had mentioned he was a dancer with a passion for cooking. Hmm.. yes he definitely has a dancer’s body. You can tell his thighs are toned from the way his trousers cling to them. You bite your lip as you eyes follow his thighs up to his taught ass and you bite down even harder on your lip. Fuck. Stop looking at him, you tell yourself. You quickly lift your gaze to his upper half, his thin cotton button down draping over his back muscles. And his arm. Fuck! You can’t stop staring at the veins in his forearm as he chops a tomato.

You are suddenly brought out of your not-so-innocent thoughts when the knife in his hand stills. Shit. You quickly remember why you came in to the kitchen in the first place, and open the overhead cupboard to fetch a mug, and opening the fridge to see what beverage options there are.

Your breath catches in your chest when out of nowhere, a veiny hand grabs onto the fridge door, opening it further and reaching in to grab two cans of soft drink. You step out of the way to give the owner of the hand room, only to find Minho standing there with a Sprite in one hand and a Coke in the other, holding them both up to you in a way that could only mean he’s asking you to choose one. But all you do is stare blankly at this gorgeous man in front of you.

Minho nods his head, gesturing for you to take one. Fuck his eyes are captivating. You reach out to choose the coke, but instead of him handing it to you, he takes both cans to the counter and places a second mug down next to yours. You watch him, intrigued, as he opens both cans - one handed - and fills the mugs part way with the drinks. You take a step closer, wrapping your hand around the handle of the mug of coke, and tentatively make eye contact with him again. “Thank you.” You whisper. He nods shyly in return and mumbles a “your welcome.” Then gets back to what he was working on.

You don’t move. You barely breathe. This can’t take your eyes off of him. You are sure he can feel your eyes on him too, because his movements are little stiffer, more hesitant than when you first walked into the kitchen and he didn’t know you were there. You wondered if you were making him nervous.

He takes two plates and begins to arrange much of the same food he’d taken out to the gathering earlier. Mini pizzas, fried chicken, but also a little salad on the side. Then he proceeds to cut up everything up into bite size pieces. On both plates. What is he doing? You are intrigued. To finish off, he gets two forks out of the cutlery drawer and takes both plates over to the little two seater table in the opposite corner of the kitchen. And then he’s brushing past you to take the two mugs of soft drink, setting them down with the two plates of food.

When he is done, he looks at you expectantly. You are unsure what is happening. His gaze alternates between the little table and you. “Eat with me?” He says carefully. Wait. What? You glance at the plates on the table. This is for you? “You want me to eat with you?” You double check, even though you’re not sure how much he understands. He nods with a smile and sits himself down in one of the chairs.

Slowly, you make your way to the other chair and nervously sit down opposite him. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself. The plates of food, all chopped up small, coupled with the cold drinks in what one would normally drink a hot beverage from, looks exactly how you set up your own dinner. At home, you have a special knife to cut your food up and you make a mental note to start keeping it in your handbag. But are you allowed to carry knives around like that?

“You don’t like?” Minho breaks your thoughts again.

“Yes… No… I mean I do like.” You say and stab your fork in a piece of chicken and pop it into your mouth. Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. “Oh my god, Minho!” You say with your mouth full. “This is delicious!” You cry. “Yum!”

Minho smirks, a satisfied look on his beautiful face. “Yummy?” He asks. You nod frantically. “So good. Yummy.” You grin back, before going in for more food.

Minho digs in too, and as you both fall even more silent than you had already been so far, you wonder why Minho hasn’t joined the others in the other room. Maybe he’s shy? Maybe he’s unsure because of the language barrier? But he seems so confident, and you imagined that if he were surrounded by his people he’d be boisterous and maybe even a little obnoxious. He has that look about him. Devious. As you place the last bit of food into your mouth, you realise that you hadn’t even thought about your anxiety for a while. Minho, a complete stranger, has made your dining experience one of the least stressful in a long time. And you hadn’t even had to explain anything to him. Felix must have mentioned something to him, you decide. How else could he have known what you needed?

You look up and give Minho the biggest, most thankful and authentic smile. “Thank you, Minho. That was so fucking good.” His eyes blink rapidly at your use of the word fucking, and he quickly breaks eye contact, and a look of confusion crosses his face. His cheeks turn a shade of pink. Hmm, so he knows that word?

“There you two are!” You both look up startled as Felix enters the kitchen and crouches down beside you both. He scans the empty plates and peeks into your coffee mug curiously.

“Thank you Felix.” You say, but he looks confused. “For what, love?”

“Letting Minho know my challenges…you know, with food.”

“Honey, I never told him anything.” He shrugs. “But I probably should have. Fuck, I’m a shit friend, I didn’t even see if you needed anything.” He scratches his head. “Anyway, I came to tell you that we are all heading into town now. Are you going to come?”

You glance at Minho who seems to be pretending to be interested in how his Sprite looks swirling around his mug, and then you look back at Felix. He shakes his head “Minho already told me he won’t be coming out.”

Oh. You take a moment to consider how your night would pan out if you went out with the group. It would most likely be fun, although your feet would hate you in the morning. A night out is extremely tiring. You cast your eyes around the kitchen. There are plates, pans, rubbish absolutely everywhere, and who knows what state the living room is in? If Minho was left here on his own, you were positive he’ll clean it all up himself.

“No, I think I’ll just stay here. Help tidy up.” You say brightly. Felix raises his eyebrows and looks to Minho and says something to him in Korean. You watch Minho as his eyes widen and when blink rapidly as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Eventually he meets your eyes and offers one polite nod. You nod in return, like you have both just agreed on something important, and you feel a nervousness in your stomach. Or is the feeling something else?

“Well,” Felix stands up. “I may or may not be back before dawn. If you want to crash here tonight, y/n, you know you are more than welcome, right?” He gives you a hug and then hugs Minho. They exchange a few more words, and you are sure Felix has just teased Minho, because Minho suddenly raises his voice in a loud “Ya!” making you jump, and play punches Felix in the arm. “Okay, okay. I’m going.” He laughs as he leaves you and Minho alone once more.

———

After the group has left, and after Minho cuts you a second piece of cheesecake, you watch him begin the mammoth task of cleaning up. The place feels so silent, apart from Minho pottering around collecting plates. You retrieve a garbage bag from the third drawer down in the kitchen, because you know where everything lives at Felix’s, and go about the apartment collecting any rubbish. You aren’t really sure how much help you’re going to be, but thankfully most people had only used napkins and canned drinks, so most of the washing up wasn’t the breakable kind. Pots, pans, and cooking utensils mostly, and you find you are managing quite alright with putting those away in their homes.

Once everything was relatively tidy again, you dim the kitchen lights a little, because your eyes are tired, and set to work filling up the kettle. “Minho, would like a coffee?” you gesture to the jar of instant coffee. His eyes light up. “Mmm, coffee. Yes…please.” He smiles. “Okay, great.” You chirp spooning out the coffee and open the fridge for milk. Again, just like before, Minho’s veiny arm grabs the fridge door. But instead of grabbing the milk, like you expect, he closes the door and gently grasps your arm and turns you so your back is against the bench. The gesture is soft and gentle, not aggressive or demanding, and it makes your breath stop. Your hands grip the countertop on either side of you, trying to steady yourself in this unexpected situation. He is standing directly in front of you, close, and there is nowhere for you to avert your eyes. He swallows hard and stares into your eyes questioningly. You open your mouth to speak but you don’t know what to say. It doesn’t matter though, because Minho speaks first.

“Thank you.” He whispers. You aren’t entirely sure what he is thanking you for, but you assume he means helping him tidy up. “For eating with me.”

Your heart absolutely melts. Who is this man? “You’re welcome.” You choke, staring back at him just as intently. His brown, almond eyes convey a myriad of emotions. Nervousness, desperation, hope, desire. His eyes flicker down to your lips, then lower as he takes a really good look at your body, before returning to your lips. Then his eyes drop to one of your hands. He reaches for it, closing the gap between the two of you in the process, and brings your hand to his lips. You are caught off guard at this gesture. You don’t really like bringing attention to your hands, and having Minho deliberately tending to them makes you feel exposed. You try and pull away, but Minho just brings your fingertips back to his lips and proceeds to kiss the backs of each of your digits. Slowly. One by one.

You suck in your lower lip, both frightened and aroused in equal measure. He lowers your arm down to your side, but still holds your hand securely, and he brings his other arm to rest on your hip.

“This? Okay?” he asks, trying to guage your reaction to his touch. You nod. That’s all you can do.

You feel a heat wash over your body, and you know you are blushing. The butterflies in your stomach flutter around and there is an unmistakable ache in your core. You bring your free hand to rest on his bicep, and you bravely pull him closer to you. He reads this gesture as invitation to lean in closer to you. His eyes still linger on your lips, and his warm breath on your skin makes you quiver.

“This? Okay too?” he whispers in a husky voice, sending shock waves straight to your cunt. “Yes” you squeak and Minho chuckles low before turning serious again. The silence in the room suddenly feels excruciatingly loud as Minho pauses, centimetres from your lips, and it feels like you’re frozen in time. His lips brush yours in a featherlight kiss. It is barely even a kiss, but it feels more intense and passionate than any other “first kiss” you’ve had. He pulls away slightly, only to come back in with more intensity. He let’s go of your hand and cups your jaw instead, pulling you in towards him. You part your lips in the hopes he will explore you with his tongue, and he immediately does.

You feel yourself losing your balance slightly and grip onto Minho tighter. He slides his hands around to the back of your thighs and lifts you effortlessly setting you down on the counter. He breaks the kiss, panting and out of breath, and leans his forehead on yours to compose himself. You rest one hand on the back of his head, your fingers threaded through his dark brown locks.

Once he’s composed himself, Minho suddenly drops to his knees in front of you, taking you by surprise. You watch in anticipation as he very slowly, and very intentionally, lifts your skirt and drapes the fabric over your knees. You feel a surge of embarrassment and want to hide, and you berate yourself for how easily all that hard work of “self-acceptance” has come undone in a single moment. You force yourself to look down at Minho to find he has a hand resting on the velcro fastening of your leg brace, and he is looking up at you waiting. “This? Okay?” he repeats the same sentence as before as his fingers undo the strap a fraction. You nod. “Yes, it’s okay.”

You watch Minho’s expression intently, trying to catch any glimmer of disgust, or worse, pity, but you see none of that from the man at your feet. He carefully removes your brace and shoe, placing it carefully on the floor. Then he removes your other shoe and places that neatly beside the first. Next, he peels off your socks.

You have never felt so exposed in your entire life as you do right now. But as Minho starts to kiss and caress your calves as he makes his way back up to standing, you realise he is captivated by you. And as he pushes your knees apart to makes space for him to come in close to you, you feel that he is indeed very aroused by you too. It makes you hungry for him, and you reach up to the buttons on his shirt. There is no way you can undo these yourself, but it’s okay because Minho’s hand is there and he unbuttons his shirt swiftly with one hand while you watch in awe. You help him slide the shirt off his shoulders and it drops to the floor. Minho hurries to peel your top off over your head, discarding it carelessly. He is focused on only one thing now, the clasp of your simple cotton t-shirt bra, and he undoes it like a pro. You raise your eyebrow at him, suspicious as to why he is so skilled at undressing. But he just smirks and let’s your bra fall away.

He immediately takes a nipple in his mouth and cups your other breast. You arch your back into him and hum a “yes, Minho, yes.” He moans in reply and you rake your hands through his hair, panting as he rolls his tongue over your hardened nipple.

“Minho? Your bedroom? Hmmm…” you moan. “Bed?” You throw the words around hoping he understands. He lifts his head to look at you and you nod your head towards the hallway where the bedrooms are.

He wastes no time lifting you off the counter and you automatically wrap your legs around his waist. He devours your lips with his as he carries you to towards his bedroom, stopping on the way to press you against the wall in the hallway. You moan again, and throw your head back while he hisses as he grinds his hardness against your clothed cunt. Your body is craving his, and you would absolutely let him fuck you right then and there against the wall if he wanted to.

He pulls you away from the wall, biting and sucking the skin on your neck as he carries you to his room and carefully lays you on his bed. He continues to kiss you, alternating between your mouth and breasts, like he can’t decide what to settle on.

His kisses slowly move lower down your body, peppering your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your skirt. He lifts his gaze to check in with you yet again, and you nod your head, giving him permission to remove your skirt, leaving you only in your pale lavender cotton briefs. Minho’s face hovers incredibly close to where you’re aching to be touched. He hums in approval as he traces a finger over the wet patch of your underwear and brushes it over your clit, watching the fabric cling to your lips as he does so. You suck in a breath at the sensation. He smirks, satisfied with your response, then rubs his finger over your clit again. “Fuck!” you cry out. He locks eyes on you while he rubs a little harder. You furrow your brows and beg him with your eyes to remove your panties.

He peels your underwear off and you let your legs fall open for him, offering yourself to him completely. He doesn’t go straight for your cunt, but tenderly kisses your inner thighs and slowly makes his way to your centre. He knows, he has to know, what this is doing you. How wet, how soaked you are. How much you need him inside of you. “Minho, please.” You sob his name. He replies by licking a stripe from your entrance to you clit. Your hands fling to his hair, holding him against you, and he stops his teasing. He’s on a mission to take you to the stars.

His tongue slips inside you while his fingers finds your clit again. You are barely holding on by a thread as he expertly tongue-fucks you. And then he swaps, bringing his fingers to your entrance and tongue to your clit. He crooks his fingers, somehow knowing exactly where that spot is. You whimper, cry out, moan, almost choke on air, as he digs into that spot over and over, and his tongue laps at your clit in some kind of synchronised dance. It’s relentless, and you can feel the tightness inside you about to - “Oh…Ohh…I’m…I’m coming.” You cry as your orgasm surprises you. It is fast and intense, and you feel your walls clenching and releasing rhythmically.

Minho lifts his head, his eyes glimmering with satisfaction and his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. He takes a good look at your pussy, before quickly discarding his trousers. Your eyes widen when they land on his hard cock. Mouthwatering. Veiny like his arms. Fucking perfect. You don’t take your eyes off of it, and you lick your lips when you see pre-cum leaking from the pinkish tip. Minho kneels between your legs, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him rub the tip along your lips. Your vagina clenches in desperation to be stretched and filled. You swallow and look up at Minho. His gaze is fixated on the tip of his cock as it pushes against you and threatens to slip inside. His eyes are hooded and full of desire, his lips are parted, perhaps in awe. Then he looks up, catching your gaze, asking for permission. He needs to be inside you. You can tell because he looks like he is absolutely going to die if he doesn’t fuck you soon. But there is also hesitation in his eyes. You know he doesn’t want to hurt you or take advantage of you.

Your reach up and cup his cheek and nod your head. Then you reach down and grasp his length, relishing in how hard he feels in your hand, and you feel like a fucking goddess when his body shudders in some sort of primal way. You let go of his cock and return to leaning on both your elbows. He crashes down on top of you kissing you, transferring your juices from his mouth to yours. And then you feel it, his thick, hard cock stretching you open. He holds your face close to his, keeping eye contact as he slowly stretches you, sinking deeper and deeper inside of your body. He mutters something in Korean, and it turns you on beyond belief. You know he notices your body’s response to the way he’s speaking, because he continues to say things, watching your reaction. Even though he you can’t understand him, his tone is gorgeous, and your body doesn’t care what he is saying. It’s just responding.

Your bodies are sweaty, your cunt wet and noisy, and with each thrust a loud slapping sound resonates in the room. Minho’s noises become a mixture of Korean words, grunts, hisses, and even growls, as he builds the pace, and it only turns you on more. You respond with your own moans and whimpers, crying out every time his cock kisses your cervix.

Sweat drips off his nose, and lands on you as he repositions himself slightly so he can watch his cock fuck in and out of you, all whilst still moving his hips expertly, finding that spot again.

Watching Minho watch himself fucking you is the most stunning thing you’ve ever seen. He is concentrating so hard on chasing both his and your pleasure. He’s so precise in his movements. Careful. Controlled. Measured. But you want him to lose himself to the moment. You want him to forget himself.

Without thinking, you reach up and tap him on the shoulder. He stops immediately and his eyes widen with worry as he tries to work out what is wrong. You pat your hand on the mattress beside you, indicating you want him to lay down. He does as you ask and you throw your leg over to straddle him. He grins up at you and you can’t help but grin back. He holds your hip with one hand, helping you lift up enough for him to guide his cock back to your entrance with his other hand. You both exhale in relief when he is snuggly back inside.

Minho waits for you to take the lead, and you experimentally grind your hips. The angle feels incredible. He is so deep inside you, your bodies flush with each other. Minho helps you set a steady rhythm and pace by guiding your hips back and forth along his length, and you are on the brink of your second orgasm. You sob at how good he feels inside of you and lean down onto Minho’s chest where he holds you close. He digs his heels into the mattress and begins to brutally snap his hips up into you. The force of each thrust takes your breath away and you come hard around his cock, crying out his name. You finally feel Minho snap and he somehow has you on your back again. You hold onto his shoulders as he knocks the breath out of you with each forceful thrust. And then he pulls out of you moaning as he paints hot ropes of cum all over your stomach. He collapses on top of you panting trying to catch his breath, neither of you caring in the slightest about the stickiness between your bodies.

Eventually your breath returns to normal, and Minho slips off the bed and pulls on a pair of sweatpants. He disappears out of the room only to return with a warm cloth, a mug of water and the items of clothing you had left in the kitchen. Somehow he is able to hold everything at once. You watch him clean you up and offer you the drink. You gulp it down, not realising how thirsty you are while he goes to his chest of drawers to retrieve an oversized t-shirt for you to wear.

He leans in to kiss you. “This… this was okay?” he asks softly. You nod. “Yes.” And he grins sheepishly, pulling you down beside him and curling up behind you whispering words in Korean as you fall asleep.

—————

A/n: I had someone ask me since writing this how LK knew what reader needed. I suppose I wanted to tap into Minho being rather observant of other people’s needs (and I didn’t convey that well), or maybe Felix did say something to him afterall? I will leave it up to you to decide how you want Minho to know her needs.

Xxx. Sorsha

@channieandhisgoonsquad @chansmanda @antoniorhinothethird @queen-in-the-shadows @queenmea604 @lyramundana @2chopsticks2eyes @noellllslut @its-hannjisung @thatonenoona @ddyskz @bethanysnow @weareapackofstrays

#skz smut #skz fanfic #lee minho x reader #lee know x y/n #pwd #disabled reader #Lee know x reader language barrier #sorshas fic

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ash5monster01 · 4 months

Text

Learning to Love Epilogue

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 3k

Part 10 ←

Masterlist

Rafe wasn’t sure what to do. Now knowing you had overheard some of his conversation he knew how bad it looked. He was prepared to fix it, thing was he needed to come up with a plan. He was tired of dancing around you, never truly saying what he actually meant. This time he was going to prove to you that he wanted you and no one else. He wanted you exactly the way you were. The only problem was how do you convince a girl she’s worth it when she’s spent her whole life thinking she’s not? So Rafe was going to take his time because he was prepared to spend the rest of his time with you. That was until Mila sent him a new text.

Mila

A wave a sickness quickly washed over him at his desk, hand tightly gripping his phone as panic slowly replaced that sickness. The idea of you on a date made him want to kill whoever the hell the guy was and he had a feeling he knew exactly who it was. Slamming his phone down he dialed the pager on his desk phone to his assistant Kaitlyn.

“Yes Mr. Cameron” she answered almost instantaneously. After all of this he needed to remember to give her a raise.

“Get me AJ, now” and Kaitlyn scrambled out an okay while Rafe tried his best not to seethe at the thought of you trying to erase him completely. It’s only ten minutes later when AJ walks through his office door.

“Kaitlyn said you needed me” the smile on her face suggests she’s assuming some kind of hookup but when she spots his angry face she realizes fairly quickly this is not the case.

“You have a Tanner that works for you down there” Rafe nods his chin down to where AJ’s marketing floor lies.

“Yeah, Tanner Mason. He’s one of my best” she says fondly of her workers and Rafe nods as he processes his thoughts.

“Yeah, well today he’s just too good. I need you to up his work load, enough paperwork he won’t be getting home until midnight tonight. I don’t even care if you have to send someone home to do it” AJ quickly furrows her eyebrows, confused at what was going on.

“I don’t understand” she says, confused why Rafe who should have no clue who this worker is, is suddenly targeting him.

“Tanner has decided to ask my girl on a date, one he thinks he’s attending tonight, I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen” AJ wears a surprised look, realizing how serious he is right now.

“Why would she even be going out with him if she’s dating you?” AJ instantly questions, looking to place blame on her but Rafe just sighs.

“She dumped me and didn’t even say why. So I’m going to get her back. Whatever means necessary” the shocked face that crossed AJ’s features doesn’t surprise Rafe, yet he doesn’t back down.

“I guess I can send Emmet home, tell Tanner he’s sick and I need a completed ad by the end of the day” AJ finally says after a beat and Rafe smiles a sly grin.

“You’re the best AJ” he says and AJ rolls her eyes as she begins to stand up.

“You’re lucky we’ve been friends so long and I’m partial to you actually being in love. Believe it or not but there was a point in time I didn’t think you were capable. It’s nice to see you care so deeply about someone” and Rafe knows she’s referring to him never reciprocating her feelings during their time together. He would feel guilty but after all of this he knows now you can’t help who you fall in love with, you’re just along for the ride.

“It feels nice” he tells her and she lets out a chuckle before heading towards the door.

“You owe me, and I want to be front row at the wedding” she tells him and the blush that crosses his cheeks surprises her.

“Anything you want” and she accepts this answer before leaving the office and towards Emmet’s. She would’ve sent him home even if Rafe gave her no reason. Everything Rafe did had a purpose.

Rafe now content with the start of his plan being set in motion glances at the picture of you on his desk. The selfie you had taken in his lap that day you were here. He knows now he’s never going to move it, loving having your smiling face looking back at him. He was determined to have you smile at him like that again so he finally responds to Mila’s text.

Mila

Rafe didn’t care that she called him out on his behavior. He used to be a very different type of insane and she should be glad that this was the only crazy thing he was willing to do these days. You had changed him for the better and he wasn’t going to lose you now. He needed it to at least be real. To know that sleeping with you made it official and not some way of using you. He wanted you the way you were forever and he was willing to go back to his old ways to make it happen.

“He’s not answering me” you groan to Mila on the couch. You had been dressed for your date for the last hour, waiting for Tanner to pick you up but so far it hadn’t been done.

“Maybe he got caught up at work, I mean you know the boss” Mila snorts out and she’s glad her acting is good enough that you can’t tell she’s internally panicking. Rafe had her delete Tanners message, one where he informed you he got stuck at work and would have his phone off the rest of the day. You’re oblivious and Mila is praying this plan doesn’t blow up in her face.

“That’s not funny” you tell her with a pout but before Mila could say anything the doorbell rang. You nervously scrambled to answer it only to be met with an older gentleman and a limo in the street behind him.

“Hello Miss, Tanner is running a bit late so he’s asked me to escort you to the restaurant. Are you all set to go?” the formality shocks you and Mila realizes fairly quickly Tanner wasn’t the one who sent this limo at all. In defense of her best friend she should stop her but even Mila knew Rafe wouldn’t have planned all of this without purpose.

“Damn, a limo! Can I tag along just to ride?” Mila asks and the chauffeur just smiles at her, told to comply with any requests.

“Could she please?” you ask the man and he nods quickly.

“Of course, what fun is a limo without guests” he says before stepping out the way and gesturing in the direction of it.

“Thank you!” you say before grabbing Mila’s hand and rushing her to the limo. You had been full blown panicking now, not having gone on a real date in ages. Now it was even more intimidating riding in a limo there.

“God, drink some champagne and chill” Mila says when she spots your nervous behavior in the back of the limo. She was already on her second glass.

“I am chill” you defend as she hands you a glass that you have down in two full gulps.

“Yeah right” she mutters as you hold out the glass, awaiting her to pour more. She obeys and doesn’t say anything more as she lets you drink in peace and sits beside you in support.

It’s not long until the limousine pulls up in front of one of the most beautiful restaurants you had ever seen. Never would you have guessed a marketing job would provide such big bucks like this, yet you don’t complain. All you do is glance at Mila who has now ditched the glass to drink champagne straight from the bottle. She smiles and gives you a thumbs up which is all the confidence you need to leave the car when the chauffeur opens the door.

“Thank you…” you trail off, realizing you don’t know his name as he releases your hand from helping you out the vehicle.

“Harold” he tells you and you smile softly.

“Thank you Harold, sorry you have to deal with her alone” you gesture back to the car with a chuckle.

“I heard that!” Mila calls from inside and Harold lightly laughs with you.

“Tanner should be here soon, just tell the hostess you have a reservation under Tanner Mason” he informs you and you nod, filled with nerves because you didn’t even know his last name was Mason until now. You suppose that’s the whole point of going on this date though, getting to know each other. So you walk into the restaurant anyways and do as told where a hostess leads you to a private booth, jazz music playing over the chatter of people, and candles lighting up the dim table.

“Sorry I’m late” a smile crosses your face before you even register that it wasn’t Tanner’s voice. Rafe notices how quickly the smile vanishes as he slides into the spot where Tanner is supposed to be.

“Why are you here?” you glare, not in any mood for a stunt of his tonight. You were moving on, trying things you never had before. You didn’t need him here and messing it up.

“Tanner got caught up at work, something about a coworker being sick and a deadline to meet by tonight” Rafe says this sentence so naturally but you know he has something to do with it. Tanner would have never planned a date let alone not contacted you about it, yet you suppose Rafe had something to do with that too.

“So what? you thought you’d just come and fill in. Take his place for the night?” you scoff, arms crossing over your chest and immediately thinking of ways to get out of this restaurant.

“Try forever. You shouldn’t be with him Y/N! You should be with me” he groans out, hands fisting the table cloth in front of you both.

“That’s never going to happen” you say with the shake of your head, trying to look anywhere but him.

“Why? We spent that night together, I thought it was finally real. That you would finally let me love you and instead you blocked me on everything!” he countered and as much as hearing that he wanted you that didn’t change fact.

“Really Rafe, me too! Which is why I came by your office as soon as I could just to hear you talking with AJ about your current sex life. How shocked she was to hear you’d sleep with me at the same time as her. Luckily I left just as I heard you start talking about not being attracted to big girls” Rafe instantly goes back to that conversation in his head, realizing AJ had used present tense when talking with him.

“I haven’t slept with AJ in over two years. I cross my heart, I haven’t even been with anyone the entirety of the time we spent together. You have to believe me” he begs, needing you to know it wasn’t true. He was desperate for you to know it was true.

“Even if that’s true Rafe, I can’t be with someone who isn’t attracted to me. I get that I’m no beauty standard and I understand my body isn’t the healthiest but I deserve to be loved for all the things that make me, me. That includes being overweight” you say, fighting the tears that burn at the back of your eyes. You didn’t want to cry over him anymore. It wasn’t worth it.

“You don’t understand Y/N, you walked away before I could finish that day. I was saying I had never been attracted to big girls before and up until now I didn’t know why. You’re so beautiful, I love everything about you. I love the way your hair always falls in your face and how when you laugh to loudly you cover your mouth with your hands. Beauty isn’t a standard, it’s just in the eye of the beholder. Anyone is beautiful when you love them and baby I love you more than you know. I love you so much that you’re the most beautiful girl in the world to me. As long as I have you, no other girl in the world matters” and the tears break free in full force, shock painting your features as Rafe’s words resonate with you. You want to believe he’s lying but what reasoning would he have? Based on his own tears in his eyes you realize that Rafe is telling you the whole truth for maybe the first time in the entirety of your relationship with him.

“You love me, exactly the way I am?” you can’t help but ask and Rafe chuckles, reaching long arms across the table to brush away your tears.

“I do, I love you more than anything and no matter what happens I always will” he says, sincerity cracking his voice and finally a smile appears on your face, chuckling through the tears.

“Well how in the hell did that happen?” you ask, the backs of your hands wiping the tears from your face while Rafe laughs at your words.

“I don’t know, guess it’s got something to do with this really cool girl I met in a bar” Rafe says and finally you stand from your side of the booth, rushing over to his own where he happily accepts you into his arms.

“You promise it’s real, everything?” you ask and Rafe smiles, a hand reaching and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“It always was” he tells you and that’s enough for you to lock your lips against his own. He kisses you like he can’t possible get enough, tongue sliding past your lips as your hands toy with his hair at the nape of his neck. He is everything you ever wanted and for the first time you deserved.

“I can’t believe you hijacked my date to get me to talk to you” you say when you finally break apart, heavy breaths falling past your lips from how deeply he was kissing you.

“I had to do something, you blocked me on everything with no explanation” he says with a bewildered look and you can’t help but laugh before pulling his lips to your own and kissing him again.

“I needed something effective to get you out of my system” you tell him and he grins, squeezing you tightly against him and in no hurry to let you go.

“You remember when we first hung out and I asked you if you had ever been in love before?” he asks you gently after a moment and you nod, softly leaning against him.

“Yeah and I told you I’d like to think I was but I wasn’t sure” you respond, remembering that day in his apartment so clearly. How much fun you had ended up having while hanging out with him.

“I only asked because I had realized I’d never been in love before, but now if someone asks me I can confidently say yes” he says with a grin and you can only giggle at the handsome boy in front of you.

“When did Rafe Cameron become such a sap?” you asked, knowing you’d seen every side of Rafe other than this.

“I’m only a sap for you so don’t go telling anyone” he tells you and for a single moment you’re the happiest you’ve ever been in the arms of the man you love. Rafe was your first and hopefully only love and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life getting to know him even more.

“Who would’ve thought a fake date would teach me how to love someone” you say to him and Rafe grins.

“Is that you finally saying you love me back, because I definitely have you beat on confessions tonight” he teases and you laugh loudly, hand covering your mouth which Rafe removes as he grins back at you.

“I love you Rafe Cameron, bad boy persona and all” you say and he pecks a sweet kiss to your lips.

“Learning to love, who would’ve thought it’d be me” he says referring to the journey you both had been on, going from loners to two people in love with each other.

“I sure as hell didn’t” you say and Rafe smiles just as the wine he had called ahead and ordered arrived to the table.

“This wasn’t Tanners date at all was it?” you ask and Rafe only grins, not embarrassed by his actions at all.

“Nope, this is all me. He texted and cancelled while you were in the shower and I had Mila delete it” he admits and you gasp, lightly smacking his arm as he goes to set a wine glass in front of you.

“You two are devious” you say and he shrugs, arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulls you close and sips from his glass of wine.

“Devious but successful” he tells you and you shake your head before laying it on his shoulder.

“You’re lucky I love you both” you tell him and he smiles, lips pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Yeah, we definitely are”

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @fishingirl12 @houseofperfecttaste @abbybarnesstuff @carma-fanficaddict @jjmaybankisbae @exhaustedbutelated @diagnosedpsychosis @daivny @drewstarkeygf @vinniehackersbaee @emsgoodthinkin @apollo3475 @https-urwife @willowalexissss @kisstaya @hcneyedsstuff @lexiereblogs @drewsuncrustables @mveggieburger @marvel4life3000 @bibliophilewednesday @humungouspatrolwolf @ijustwanttoreadlols @jaijustreads @sleepjam @dilvcv @aaronhotchswife @sunshine1218 @lavenderhazeq @theultimatefrenchfangirl @kravitzwhore @chalahyung01 @jenniferpendragon @kitty-marie725 @dlwritings @writevanna @alenerz @h34rtsformilli @just-cuz22 @superbreadsoul

a/n: and that’s a wrap. thank you so much everyone for coming with me on this journey and I hope you fell in love with their story as much as I did. clearly Rafe and the reader have a beautiful future ahead of them, no longer lost in the world. as for you my dear and loyal readers I wish this for all of you, not only find love but learning how to 🤍

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luke-o-lophus · 11 months

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In Your Image, In My Eye

Marc Spector x Reader (Minors DNI)

TW: Allusions to child abuse and neglect, and to past eating disorders (nothing descriptive), body image issues, very minor talk of food controls, mentions of sexual activities and some innuendos

Prompt by @apollo-enthusiast: Imagine settling down with the moon boys, just living a calm and stable life without khonshu to bother you. You bake and cook a lot, and are really good at it. As a result, Marc gains a bit of weight and now has a little tummy. You catch him judging himself in the mirror one day, maybe fighting over it with steven and jake, maybe they're feeling the same way, and find out he's feeling insecure about it and needs some love

Word count: 1541

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"For the thousandth time, Steven, we have the same body."

Marc sounds exasperated. He looks exasperated. Just out of shower and towel wrapped low on his hips, he usually doesn't spend this long in front of the full length mirror in your shared bedroom. But today, Steven got his attention. "You still look handsome", he'd muttered. And refused to budge when Marc pointed out the obvious.

"You don't get it. I've got this...ugh", Steven hides his face in their shared headspace. "This thing. I have a..a pooch belly."

Marc mentally groans and pinches his forehead. "Steven I can assure you we're doing fine", he grunts.

"Are we though Marc, are we?" Steven throws up his hands. "Look at this." He incredulously points to his midsection. Marc tilts his head with a raised eyebrow. Steven's fashion in the mindspace is similar to when he's fronting. All Marc can see is the body swimming in a shirt three or four sizes too large, in a pattern that hurts his eyes.

"Steven I literally can't see anything", he sighs and turns to remove his towel and start getting dressed. That's when he sees it. A soft..chunky roll in his belly as he bends to pick up his t-shirt. He slowly turns back to the mirror, shirt in hand, and pokes his finger in his belly. Nearly two segments of the finger sink in easily, and the flesh springs back as he removes his hand. Marc's never seen anything like it on his own body.

Here's the thing. Marc Spector in the past has never really eaten. He's consumed food in order to sustain. In the army and as a merc, he had standard rations and a standard body type he had to maintain. And before that, he had always been a skinny kid. It's no secret he wasn't exactly nurtured at home. And he's even starved himself to points where Jake has had to step in to take care of the body. Until quite recently, actually. Until he met you. Or rather, three months into meeting you.

You'd brought a tupperware of chocolate cupcakes to your fifth date. You were meeting after nearly a month, a month of thinking Marc is going to ghost you. That day Marc came bearing a harrowed guilty face, and you came bearing cupcakes. Who does that? Marc wondered as he bit into one. And almost forgot to chew. It already tasted so, so good he stared at you with wide eyes. You giggled bashfully, a shy finger wiping away ganache from the side of his lip. Later that night those same lips had devoured you over and over until all the tension of the month prior was forgotten.

It had never even occurred to Marc it is possible for the body to gain some stomach fat. And it damn well had never crossed his mind, that would be what's bothering him when he looks at his reflection. But here he is. He can almost hear Jake groaning somewhere in the depths of the mindspace. A groan of "Here we go again".

They moved into your apartment a month later. Steven still kept his, and turned it into a library slash workspace for them. Your place was home. With your warmly lit study, kitchen that always smelled good, the eclectic wooden chandelier in the living room, and the twelve pillows on your queen bed: it was a better home than marc had ever seen himself living in. And then there was you. Who had given him so much love, so much grace, so much understanding. Because of him, you had moved away the large full body mirror to your study the day before he had moved in. The men liked having mirrors around, mirrors made it easier to communicate, but just...smaller ones. It took Marc a long time to be able to look at all the scars and marks on the body without feeling sick in his stomach. The day he asked if you could move the mirror to the bedroom to make dressing up easy, you'd hugged him and kissed him silly. And later baked a batch of apple tarts as a treat.

"Maaarc what's taking you long?" your call sounds impatient. He can hear faint muttering coming closer and your head appears in the doorway. Marc's instinct is to quickly cover his torso with the t-shirt in his hand, almost letting loose an embarrassing squeak.

"You haven't dressed? We gotta do a grocery run quick or we'll get very late for lunch!" you whine with your hands on your hips.

"I don't want lunch", Marc mumbles and you pause in the midst of your woeful rant of delayed lunches.

"What..why? Is your stomach upset? I told you that fish tasted funky, Marc, I swear.." you immediately start fussing over him, coming close and checking his forehead for a temperature.

"No..no...I'm fine. Just ... not hungry" he shakes his head away.

You were familiar with Marc's 'not hungry'. It could mean a lot of things, but very rarely the fact that he actually wasn't hungry.

"Everything alright, bubba?" you ask, hand moving down to caress his cheek. Marc sighs and smiles wryly,"Yeah..yeah don't worry. It's just...it's silly..."

You raise your brows in question, egging him to go on. "It's just...I have this thing.." he rubs his neck and moves the tshirt from his torso slowly, as if revealing the deepest darkest secrets. You blink owlishly at the display, then back up at him. "Honey...uh..I'm sorry but....what am I..looking at?" you ask.

"This!", Marc almost whines, poking indignantly at his belly. You look just as lost, helplessly staring. "Does it..hurt there or something?" you offer with concern.

Marc doesn't look convinced so you prod a little further, asking if that's something that feels uncomfortable or just...looks different to him. "I..I've always been skinny...before the army and the...Khonshu." he sighs, head hanging. "Didn't really have someone cooking me a three course meal every time."

"No...I'm...I have...this..." he bends over to a side and pinches his tummy roll between his fingers. You stare at that for a few moments before it clicks. "Oh honey", you call with adoration, gently prying away those fingers and kissing the tips. "But your tummy looks so nice. So healthy. You look so nice and healthy"

You take a cautious pause at that, almost hurt for a moment. Marc catches onto it quick, and stumbles directly into an apology. "No..no...that came out wrong. I love that you cook, I love everything you make, I'm so grateful. You're..., baby..please..."

It always breaks your heart when Marc apologizes, because of the way he does it. He says sorry for a simple slip of tongue as if you'd be packing your bags and running off before he had a chance to finish his sentence. So you smile at him, a cheeky little smile.

"You like my cakes?" you ask him innocently, a playful glint in your eye.

"Huh? Of course I do...yeah? The...the one you made on my birthday, and...and.."

"No no no...", you stop him, moving closer. "I mean, do you like my cakes" You give your butt a playful wiggle. Marc stops in his tracks, then groans at that awful joke. "Babe!" he groans. You giggle and wrap your arms around him. Your head nestled in the crook of his neck with practiced ease, you mumble softly,"You look great. If you feel healthy, and enjoy what you're eating....you're good. Okay?" You pause a bit then sigh. "I...I can't see you starve yourself again, bubba. It...hurts to see you like that." You still remember when Marc had showed up on your fifth date with sunken cheeks and hollow eyes, looking like he's missed half his meals the past month. It's an image you can't get out of your head: him standing with a small souvenir clutched so tight in his palm the packaging was ruined, looking all shades of tired and starved.

Marc stays quiet, but he holds on to you tight, kisses the top of your head. "What's for lunch?" he mumbles meekly after a while. You pull back and smile wide, eyes shining, and continue your grocery run rant. From the increasing price of eggs to the doubtful durability of milk, this new meatball hack you want to try, and a vegan substitute idea you'd just gotten. You follow Marc around the room as he gets dressed, talking a mile a minute. He takes a last glance at the mirror and rakes back his curls, then swiftly pulls you closer. You squeak and hold him on instinct, and he laughs softly while nuzzling the side of your face. "So...remind me the plan. We...are getting groceries, making lunch, so...after eating.." He pauses but you can hear the laugh in his voice. The laugh and the shyness.

"What, Spector?" you tease. "What do you want after lunch?"

"Well maybe you....you can show me how good you think I look?" he says hopefully. You turn around to kiss him, nodding excitedly. "Deal", you whisper, before pulling back and giggling. "I thought you're about to ask me to have you for dessert"

Marc facepalms with another groan.

#moon knight x reader #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #luke shares #luke fic recs

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jakeyt · 1 month

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Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 1 of 3)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great.

Was.

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home.

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

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

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

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; mutual pining; crying + feelings of sadness; arguing; heart issues addressed (POTs); use of heart monitors; revisited, vivid memories of sexual encounters; JEALOUSYYY; body changes as a result of pregnancy; negative self-talk (that, off and on, turns positive); talks of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones (+ acting on them hehe); reader and jake are both STUBBORN (as always); cheating; heavy petting; oral sex m!receiving; forgetfulness; vivid imaginings of sex; talks of EMDR + the possibility of revisiting dark places; jake being the best, most helpful baby daddy there ever was (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

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

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

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

and biiiigg thank you to @gretavangroupie for being the dopest proofreader + catching my little, dumb mistakes lmao <3

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

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

-Joseph Hall

-🌼🌼🌼-

Chapter 11:

Monday

December 5th, 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crazy. You were going to go crazy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were beyond happy with what you saw.

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

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

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

You were supposed to be mad at him!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God. . . stop acting like you care.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You seriously already forgot?”

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

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

“Why are you so upset?”

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

“Yes you are.”

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

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

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

Or was he just being nice?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blushed. That was sweet as hell.

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

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

No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Little Miss Hot Thang? What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was it worth it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ugh. But was that what you wanted?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God. What had your life come to?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Feels great, doesn’t it, Jake?

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

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

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

Your heart jumped in your throat. Motherfucker.

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you agree?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

You figured you might as well start off strong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And. . . you had absolutely zero of it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The tears were coming. Dammit.

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“Doesn’t matter right now.”

“I wanna know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why were you upset with him again?

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

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

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

Yeah, because Maya wants you to.

Aaand you were annoyed again.

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

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

You flushed, embarrassed by the sound.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happier than before, perhaps?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly, you were back in the kitchen.

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

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

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

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

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

Holy–.

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

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

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

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

But you literally couldn’t even imagine doing that.

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

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

Best to not overthink it.

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Why do you think the baby’s a girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah? Why?”

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

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

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

Hot air caught in your lungs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or did you want it to be gentle?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck had just happened?

You kept your eyes ahead, observing through the windshield.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why would he have been upset with you?”

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

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

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

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

Fuck. You didn't know.

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

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

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

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

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

You felt sick at it all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ll see who wins their pick.”

“Mama gets first vote.”

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

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

“Did you have plans tonight?” You wondered aloud, letting the words traipse out of your mouth on their own as you dried a dish with an already-dampened towel, having been working through your task as you waited on dinner. Jake was cooking the sauce and the pasta, and as he dirtied a dish or utensil from cooking, you’d clean it, dry it, and put it away.

He hadn’t wanted you to lift a finger, but after putting your foot down and giving him a look, he’d relented.

“Noticed you dressed up earlier,” you continued, putting a mixing bowl back in the cabinet.

Why were you asking this? You were just asking to be hurt by him saying he’d been with—.

“Yeah, meeting with the label execs,” he replied, moving the seasonings around in the minced onions, garlic, and green pepper, searing hot in the saucier; the new addition of garlic made your nose tingle with eagerness to eat. “Went well. Talked album release and all that shit.”

You watched him, his beautiful hair now meeting the tops of his shoulder blades. . . And, if you were being honest, you could’ve sighed with relief at the idea of him not being with Maya earlier tonight. Which. . . was admittedly unfair of you since you’d been out with another man earlier that day.

Yes, y/n. It’s not fair. And Jake’s relationship is not your business anymore, a gentle voice reminded you. You’re the one who called it quits and you have to be okay with not being the one he chooses. Who he chooses to spend his time with shouldn’t matter. . . No matter what you get yourself into. . .

Snapping from your thought, you noticed him reaching for one more tomato on the counter next to him. You could tell he was looking for the cutting board and knife, but he wasn’t going to find them as you’d already cleaned them.

Without having to be asked, you went ahead and got them back out for him.

His eyebrows were turned in with confusion as you placed them on the counter next to him, one brow raising with appreciation. “You’ve already washed them? I’m impressed – just used them,” he laughed under his breath, going about his task with chopping the red fruit. “I’m sorry to dirty them again.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you grinned, deciding to take a break. You washed your hands and dried them before leaning against the counter to watch him cook, glancing at the glowing green time of 9:33 p.m. on the stove. “You’re making dinner for me way later than you should be having to–you shouldn’t be–,” you stopped yourself, shaking your head. You knew how he’d disagree with your statement. “. . . I’m just trying to keep up with your mad chef skills. Professional chef, meet your professional dish-washer,” you bowed dramatically, only bending so far with the slightly protruding tummy at your waist.

When you rose up and pushed your back against the counter again, you laced both hands under your tummy and looked over at him. His dimple, fully present in his cheek with a bright grin lighting up his features. “You are so fucking cute,” he said, almost as if he couldn’t help it.

The little comment made your heart warm for like five seconds, but then he was turning to the island behind him to grab some salt for the tomato mixture cooking on the stove. It smelled heavenly, by the way – perfectly ripe tomatoes sizzling in olive oil with fresh vegetables, parsley, and cilantro. . .

But, as enticingly savory as the smell was. . . your eyes were still glued to the island.

Everything from your afternoon of contemplation was hurtling at full speed back into your mind.

Maya, on her knees. Jake, moaning. You, having to watch. As much as his relationship wasn’t your business, your apartment and its rules were.

And, in spite of what had happened in his car — or all of the sweet things he’d said tonight and the incredibly kind thing he was doing for you at the present moment. . .

You knew you had to bring up. You’d texted him about it earlier and everything. If you didn’t say anything about it now, you knew your pregnant brain would let you forget again.

It was also probably best to bring it up for another reason. A reality check. Because, as wrong as the action was to do out in the open, it wasn’t wrong for him to be doing it. It was wrong what happened in the Jeep. As much as it broke you. Your buzzing hormones were screaming at you.

It was wrong for him to treat you like anything more than a friend. Yes, you were carrying his child, but he had a girlfriend.

So, saying something about the instance might help to remind him that he had a girlfriend. . . And that you weren’t her.

You needed to bring her back in the discussion – as much as you fucking hated it, it was real life.

“I, um. . .,” you started, looking at your polish-less toenails. You really needed a self-care day. Both types of nail beds were looking terrible. Task at hand, y/n. “Jake, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What’s up?” He replied, voice open and ready to receive it.

You hoped he was ready to hear you and would understand where you were coming from.

“On, uh, on Thanksgiving. . . I–,” you struggled to begin. But, you had to spit it out. Had to get your point made. So, you trudged through. You let the image that was stained in your brian fuel you to say the words exactly as they needed to be said. Letting your back go straighter, and pushing your chest out with purpose, you asserted your claim. “I walked in on Maya and you. You, um, were pushed against the island,” you let your eyes trail there of their own volition. It spurred you on. “She was on her knees. It was obvious what was happening. And I don’t really think that it aligns with–.”

“With the rules,” he finished, sighing in a reflective sort of way. “Yeah, I know.”

You were shocked. He remembered? Then why–?

“Why did you let it happen then?” You asked, still not looking up at him, burning holes into the counter he’d been leant against as her mouth made lewd sounds, echoing in the small space even now. The image was absolutely unwelcome in every sense of the word.

“I was feeling the moment,” he sighed. You heard a burner click down and his own feet slide against the floor.

Looking back at your own feet, you caught a glimpse of his feet . . . facing yours. Ironically, you couldn’t help the New Girl reference spurring in your brain.

“A guy’s feet point at what they want, and his feet were pointing at you.” Cece’s voice was setting off tiny alarm bells in your head. Your heart rate picked up a bit at the idea of it – was this how Jess felt during that entire episode?

Then, you thought about how similarly Maya looked to Cece and you were sick to your stomach all over again. Fuck. She really did ruin everything. And you hated with a burning passion how aggravatingly stunning she was.

“Well, it may be best to not ‘feel the moment’ in the middle of the apartment,” you replied, your faster heart rate encouraging you to spit the words out. Finally, your eyes flicked up to him, only to find his eyes trained on the ground as well, and a blush on his cheeks. “There are rules for a reason, Jake. You agreed to them.”

You continued. “And not only did you break the rule about common spaces, you’ve also been having loud sex right next door while I try to sleep and I– it’s not good for me or the baby and–.”

“I’m sorry. I will tell her to be quieter.”

“I can hear you, too, Jacob.”

“Well, then. . . we’ll work on that.”

“Work on it?”

“Yeah. We’ll try to–.”

“You won’t try, Jake. You’ll just do. . . Just be quiet. Damn. It’s not rocket science.”

“Goddamn, y/n. I understand,” he replied, shaking his head as he glanced at you once and then back at the ground. “And I’m so damn sorry my responses are lacking today.”

Silence. It dragged for a minute or two — long enough for him to go back to checking the sauce, then coming back to face across from you again.

This was officially the longest day in history. You were tired of it. But, you also didn’t want it to be over. . . You’d liked spending so much time with him.

“How would you feel if you heard me next door having loud sex with someone?”

“I wouldn’t—,” he started, grumbling, jaw tense. “It’s not my business.”

“Didn’t ask if it was your business. I asked how you’d feel. Would it make you feel uncomfortable at all?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Why am I a liar?”

“Because, Jake, even if we didn’t have a past,” you placed an absentminded hand on your tummy. His eyes flickered down at the motion, but almost instantly found their way back to your face. “Loud sex makes other people feel uncomfortable.”

“Not me.”

“Want me to test your assumption? I could invite someone over and make sure to have the loudest sex to see how it makes you fee–.”

“No,” he responded, with no hesitation. “Well, not no. You can do whatever the hell you want– I just– fuck. I wouldn’t like it, y/n. Is that what you want me to say?”

“I want you to be honest.”

“I wouldn’t like hearing you fuck someone else,” he insisted without another thought, voice low with eyes dark enough to make your head swirl and your chest heat. “Especially while you’re pregnant with my baby.”

Your heart thumped a million miles a minute in your chest. Again, your heart monitor apparently let you have the moment. “Well, I don’t like hearing my baby’s daddy moaning another woman’s name. And I especially don’t like seeing him getting sucked off by said woman either,” your words were true and harsh as they slid off your tongue. It felt good to say them. Have them out in the open.

“We’ll adjust it. I’ll talk to her.”

More silence. But, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

No, this was literally just a conversation. A conversation that needed to be had, between two people who knew each other well enough to make a damn baby.

As he checked the food once more, he flicked off the burners completely and slid the pans back to begin to cool a bit. He placed the sauce pan on the warmer. You just watched him – focused on the fact that he was right here, so present. . . .and all you wanted to do was kiss him. Even more than pulling his pants down again, you just wanted to wrap your arms around him and kiss him.

He was once again across from you, closer this time. You caught sight of his hands, nearing your face. And, just before he could gently grasp your face in his hands, he dropped them.

Backing up a bit, towards the oven, his eyes softened. His gaze settled on you in a way that made you want to curl up in him and cry. “You ready to eat?”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

“Are you going to . . .?”

Her eyebrows wrinkled, questioning. She was nearly sleepwalking, her eyelids barely open. I knew she was tired and beyond ready for bed. It was selfish of me to ask, but I had to before I lost the fucking nerve.

“Are you going to have sex here?” I clarified, clearing my throat.

She scoffed, but a gentle smile stayed on her pretty face. “That isn’t your business, Jake. What is your business is that it won’t be loud if it happens. And I won’t be doing it out in spaces that you can see.”

At her words came the most unpleasant feeling. . . . and the sight I imagined – it made my stomach turn and my skin heat with jealousy.

Instead of Maya and me at that damn island, I saw y/n and that fuckass Theo guy. . . Him, towering over her. Her round belly, carrying my baby, being held in his football-playing hands as he pounded into her from behind.

He would be making her his in a way I sure as fuck didn’t want her to be. The way I knew how her delicate eyebrows would sink in at the feeling of him inside of her. . . the way her body would be giving in to him, soft, tight, and ready.

The way she’d moan like she did tonight as she sucked me off. . . . Fuck.

And the sounds she’d make. . . I knew the exact noises that would come from her mouth if he was fucking her– the wet sounds from her pretty pussy. . . I knew every single sound like the back of my hand. I’d elicited them from her over and over again for two of the most astounding months of my life.

I could practically feel her clenching around me at the thought. . . the way her body would basically give out with certain positions or motions of my hips. . . . and how she’d become absolute putty in my hands as her release climbed up her spine and spilled over my dick. . .

My dick twitched in my pants, but I tried like hell to stop it.

Hell. This was hell.

And the thoughts were damn near crippling me.

But she was right. It wasn’t my fucking business. I’d told her the same damn thing earlier. Fuck me.

As wrong as it felt for another man to be fucking the mother of my child, I had proven with my relationship and careless actions in it that I had moved on. Though, I hadn’t moved on. I wasn’t moving on. I thought I had been, but then. . . the moment I truly stopped to think about her being pregnant, that first night I’d known. . . I’d known for a damned well fact that I hadn’t moved on worth shit.

Poor Maya. I honestly felt like I was using her at this point. But. . . I did love her. Or so I had convinced myself over the time we’d been dating.

I was just desperate to cling to a woman who hadn’t hurt me. I was so tired of it, and Maya would never. She only ever wanted to please. And that felt so damn good.

“Okay,” was all I could respond with, through my clenched teeth. It was a pathetic response.

She breathed in deeply, her beautiful chest expanding under her sweatshirt. I could see her nipples, hard and ready beneath the thick material. Sweet hell. Was it for me? Or was it for him? Or. . . worse. . . was it for no one and her body was just always ready these days? Was that what happened to women when they were pregnant?

Was that why she’d suddenly been so eager tonight to throw away the morals she’d had just last night? Was a raging, uncontrollable libido to blame for what happened in my car tonight?

Fuck, I needed to do more research. I knew exactly what I’d be looking into tonight. . .

. . .After I finished what she’d started earlier.

“Okay,” she sighed, going to turn towards her bedroom.

“Does he know?” I couldn’t help but wonder, pushing the conversation further.

She didn’t even have to ask who. Because there was only one man in her sights and we both knew who the fuck the man was. Goddamn this guy. I hated him. Barely knew him, but I knew he wasn’t anything near what –who– she needed.

“Yes,” she replied, resolute. Turning, she rested her beautiful, curvy body against her door frame. “Telling him about the baby went well, actually.”

“When did you tell him?”

“Tonight. Told him when we got to the coffee shop,” she detailed, clasping her hands under her belly to hold it. Damn, I could watch her all day long. “He was bound to find out soon enough. I feel like I’m getting bigger every single day – already kind of giving it away.”

Fuck if I know it, baby. . .

Instead of saying the words aloud, all I did was nod and take in a steady breath through my nose and let it out slowly from deep in my chest. Her eyes trailed to my chest with the motion and I felt a moment of hope that she still wanted me as badly as she had in the kitchen. . . Even more so how she’d wanted me tonight.

All of the blood in my body was rushing towards my dick at the thought of her wet body in my arms last night, her hands and mouth on me in the Jeep. . .

Her see -through tank top. . . the way her swollen tits tempted to spill from the top of the shirt. . . how close I’d been to holding her full breast in my hand. . . her nipples, peaked so prettily and showing perfectly through the soaking wet cotton. She’d been ready. I knew her body.

And tonight. . . .? I couldn’t even get started on that.

I was just so confused. Just last night, she’d left and had refused me coming to her room. But tonight she’d taken the initiative to put her damn mouth on me.

After last night and tonight, I could throw Maya on her ass and not feel bad about it. Well, maybe a little bad.

Damn, it was shitty to admit it. Though, it somehow felt even shittier to go take out on her what I only wanted to do to y/n. . . And that had been exactly what I’d done.

“Is there anything else you need before I go to bed? I’m about to fall asleep standing up,” she blinked slowly, sleepily. . . so fucking cute. All I wanted to do right now was follow her to bed and make her sigh my name. . . Then, hold her in my arms afterward, watching her fall into a hopefully blissful sleep. . .

“No,” I cleared my throat. “Is there anything else I can do for you to make your night easier?”

“You’ve done just about everything you could’ve done, Jake,” she replied, smiling the most serenely beautiful, tired grin. . . her lips, tempting me to kiss her. The blush on her cheeks, pulling me closer.

But, all too soon, she was opening the door all the way to her bedroom, walking in and turning once more to look at me through the crack she’d made with the door. “‘Night.”

“Goodnight,” I muttered, in a daze caused by her beauty alone. Her pretty lips. Her body. Her face. Just her.

Damn. I was letting myself in too deep. Again.

It had happened without me fully realizing it. I’d just started falling for her again (Had I ever stopped? Or had I just been hurt?).

I hadn’t even let myself pause to think about how it could bite me in the ass.

But. . . did I care if it bit me in the ass? I wasn’t with y/n. . . I had a girlfriend. If all went to shit, I had Maya to lean back on. It was shitty for me to think like that, but damn.

Though, I couldn’t help but think. . . There wasn’t any harm in listening to my heart and simply being helpful and kind to the woman carrying my child. However that may look, I could be there for her. Right? I had a soft spot for her – I probably always would.

It was y/n. Even if she wasn’t pregnant with my kid, I’d always look at her a little more tenderly than most other people – well, all other people. She’d carved a place in my heart from the first moment I’d seen her.

There was truly no one like her.

Never would be.

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

A week later, you were hoping to slide out of class without attracting Theo’s attention, but he’d caught you and followed you all the way out to your damn car.

And, of course, he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about one particular thing you really didn’t want to talk to him about. Something that definitely wasn’t his business, even though he was trying like hell to make it that way.

It was your decision to lead him on, a voice tenderly reminded you. And you’re still going on that date with him. You promised you would. You have to put up with him for at least a little while longer.

“Well. . . is the baby’s father in the picture?” He asked, following his multitude of other yes/no questions, right as you’d opened your driver’s side door to escape him.

Fuck. What did you say? You didn’t want to freak him out. Annoying as he was, you still had a plan to at least try things with him to see if you could make something work with someone who wasn’t Jake. . . Still wanted to test the waters with the whole idea of seeing another guy. There was a chance you could end up giving things a real chance with Theo. And you didn’t want to spoil what could inevitably get your mind off of Jake by acting like you were with him in any capacity.

Because you weren’t. No matter what had happened in the kitchen or the Jeep.

You couldn’t tell him the full truth. It just didn’t seem entirely wise to tell him all of the details. . . just in case. What was a way you could tell him half of the truth?

“Kind of, kind of not,” you replied, not wanting to give much more. But, you added, “He’s not as present as I wish he could be.”

Not a lie, you thought. Because I do wish he was more present. Like, present in my bed, for instance. . . which he isn’t.

“Why not?” Theo asked, going to lean against your car.

Just before he could place his jeans-clad butt against your car, you spoke up. “Don’t lean against the car, please,” you tried, feeling uncomfortable that you even had to ask him. You just didn’t want him to scratch or dent your beloved Jetta.

“Oh,” he said, pouting a bit. “Is the car special to you or something?”

“Well, kind of. Elsie and I shared it when she lived here and still kind of do,” you told him. I also just don’t want just anyone leaning against my car; is that too much to ask?!

He made a noise of acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything further on the matter as he straightened up with a bit of an attitude. “Why isn’t the father present?”

You were not ready to explain. You didn’t know what to begin to say. . . didn’t want to say too much, but you also didn’t want to completely lie.

“He’s just not able to be fully involved,” you replied, looking down at your nails to pick at a snaggled cuticle. “He does what he can. Just not available to do all I wish he was able to do, I guess.”

It was a diversion and it wasn’t a lie. You just wanted to drop the conversation entirely.

“What do you mean by all of that?”

I don’t want to answer that, you grumbled internally. And you wouldn’t like the answer, Theodore.

“I don’t really want to get into it,” you explained, hiding an eye roll with a glance back at your car. You opened your door more, desperate for an escape. And a nap. . . You didn’t have any obligations ton—.

Dammit – you had therapy this evening. You were looking forward to it, but you weren’t really looking forward to having to be in such close quarters to Jake all evening. After last Monday, you hadn’t seen him as much. He was either gone for the album or at the apartment hanging out with the guys to discuss things. A time or two, Maya had been there, forcing you to make a last minute plan with Josh one night and an impromptu dinner plan with your grandparents the other. . .

It was so incredibly hard being so close while he was forced to be so distant, emotionally – especially after recent events.

The two of you just weren’t what you wished you could be.

God. Alcohol or weed would be lovely right now. Something to get my mind off of things, you wistfully acknowledged.

Then, you peered up at the man in front of you – remembered the entire reason you were giving him the time of day to begin with.

The perfect distraction was right here, in front of you. You pushed down the way your skin was buzzing with annoyance, and gave yourself a second to observe him. Maybe it could work out to just make yourself available to him. See where it could lead. . . .

So, you went ahead and added an ending statement to your earlier explanation, “But. . . . . we aren’t together, I can tell you that much.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, his eyes glinting in the afternoon sun.

And, your hormones worked in your favor as you eyed him, watched him move. . . he really was so fucking handsome. You couldn’t deny it. The more you allowed yourself to study his structure and looks, the easier it was to let your mind wander.

He shifted his broad shoulders, his alumni sweatshirt hugging his strong chest so well. . . For what it was worth, Theodore was hot – you could give him that. He was irritating, but perhaps his looks could make up for it if you allowed. . .

And, you couldn’t deny how much you loved the fact that he still seemed interested in you even though you were pregnant. Someone so seriously sexy still wanted you, all bloated and different. . . that was endearing. It was promising and validating.

“Yeah,” you blushed, looking back into his eyes from his chest. The more you genuinely entertained the thought of Theo, the further your mind traveled of its own accord. . . . You bit your lip as you checked him out, letting your eyes travel to his chest again, and back to his face, flicking over every feature.

One of your favorite features of his were his hooded eyelids. Even in high school, you’d always liked them on him for some reason. His lids and chiseled facial structure complimented his seafoam-colored irises, shining in the sunlight. As much of an open book he seemed, his model-worthy looks gave him an air of mystery that you enjoyed.

“Well, that makes it easier for us to plan our date,” he remarked, moving towards you.

Not sure if it was your raging hormones or what, you weren’t feeling any uneasiness over his proximity. In fact, your body seemed to welcome it with the way your skin heated under the lustful way he peered down at you. Your chest exhaled just enough for your breasts to skim his chest. He was suddenly very close.

You kept looking into his eyes, craning your neck to look up at him. Your eyelids fluttered with the way his stare was piercing you. What was happening? Where had your annoyance disappeared to?

“I want you, y/n,” he said, voice low. “I don’t give a damn if there’s a baby in you or that it’s another man’s baby . . . I want you just as badly as I did sophomore year of high school. You are perplexingly stunning – inside and out – always have been.”

Suddenly, with his words and the way his boyish Axe body spray penetrated your senses, you forgot how annoying he was. The Axe body spray didn’t repulse you like his Black Ice car freshener. No, it reminded you of simpler times – he reminded you of life in its simplest form. Being a teenager, a child – when there’d been much less stress. Your mother, further from your thoughts in high school than she’d ever been before. . . no adult obligation to face your past.

Back then, there hadn’t been a Jake entering your life, whose presence prompted you to fucking heal those wounds from your childhood. . . Those dark, twisted past hurts that you’d worked to cover up very well in high school.

You couldn’t remember why you’d ever been so irritated with him. Because the man standing in front of you right now was not one you were at all angered by. . . He made you feel light and carefree, like you could ignore the hard things and focus on the unimportant. . . You just felt all innocent suddenly, like you had so long ago.

This beautiful man with dirty-blonde hair was clouding your senses – he was the same boy who’d given you so many of your firsts. . . . This person, who was standing in front of you, wanting you just as badly as he had so many years ago. . . He was still so fine, all aggravating traits completely aside.

He stepped closer once more, your breasts aching with the added pressure of his chest. But – you barely had time to wince with the way your breath caught in your throat at his next action. He’d grasped your chin. And was ever-so-slowly leaning his face down towards yours.

You were not about to stop it. Couldn’t stop it if you wanted. And you definitely didn’t want to. Fuck it.

In seconds, his lips had found yours, giving your lips a welcome, proper kiss. His lips enveloped yours so attractively. You felt like a smitten teenage girl all over again. . . you were back in your grandparents’ driveway the summer before junior year, bidding him goodbye with tears in your eyes, right before he moved away. It’d sucked having to break up. . . because back then? You’d never once been annoyed by him, weren’t so jaded as you were now. You had enjoyed his company, in fact (even if Elsie didn’t much care for it, you had).

And, you were finding the same feeling slowly coming back.

Apparently, all you’d needed were a few minutes and a bold kiss to view him in a different light as an adult.

And baby hormones. Those definitely helped. You were horny as hell more frequently than you wished and you weren’t getting any.

The kitchen was one night. Jake’s car was one night. But honestly, both instances had left you even worse off than before.

Your body was feeling it.

He gave you one more sure kiss, slipping his tongue just the slightest bit past your lips. It made your pulse quicken and your neck hot, but he didn’t take it further than that. After he’d opened your door further for you, he’d leaned over to give you a tiny kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll text you,” he promised, winking your way.

Nodding, you batted your lashes at him, completely at his mercy for the time being. What the fuck had happened in the span of you leaving class and now?

Whatever it had been, it didn’t last as strongly as you would’ve wished. Because within minutes, with your R&B playlist blasting, you were feeling your phone vibrate against your lap. And when you picked it up to find Theodore’s name on your screen, you felt utterly disappointed.

Because as cute and strangely endearing as Theo suddenly was to you again, he was not the man you wanted most. It was proven again, as you saw Theo’s name flash across your screen that the only name you wanted to see on your screen was spelled J-a-k-e.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I can’t stay to hang out after your session tonight,” Jake mentioned that evening, making a turn, bringing you closer to Gia’s office. “I’m sorry. Maya has this thing that she really wants me to be at, and I can’t let her down.”

Your heart plummeted in your chest, but you acted as though it hadn’t. As much as it hurt to hang out with him, it hurt worse when he’d leave you for her.

But. . . You knew that wasn’t fair. You’d stolen her boyfriend from her enough already. For every appointment he had to now drive you to, having him grope you in the kitchen, going down on him in his car. . .

It would be unfair to act as though she was the one asking for too much. He was hers. Him taking you to therapy was what asked too much, her needing him was quite the opposite. It was normal.

“That’s okay,” you said, tone especially light as the words left your lips. Damn – good act, y/n. Good job. “I want you to be able to be available to her.” As much as it fucking sucks to watch, it’s what life is now.

“Cool. Thanks,” he responded, sounding the slightest bit caught off-guard. Why? Had he expected you to be disappointed? He would’ve been right, but you weren’t about to let it on.

It was quiet for a few moments, then he came to a stop two streets away from the practice.

“So,” he started. And, as he moved a hand to turn down your playlist, his delicious, new sandalwood-vanilla scented cologne overwhelmed your ability to properly think. It seemed to exude from him with every action he took.

Your eyes flicked over his hand at his word, seeing his fist go to rest on his Jeep’s gear shift. God. The way his long fingers wrapped so well around the mechanism . . . . You thought of how they felt on your aching–.

Shaking your head the slightest, you glanced up at him. And, of course, his hauntingly beautiful side profile was even worse to look at than his strong hands. “What’s up?” You asked, voice stronger than you expected.

“Are you ready for tonight’s session?” He asked, eyes finding yours, earnest and genuinely curious. “Do you know what to expect?”

“Well,” you began, swallowing at what may await you tonight. Your eyes found your hands, fiddling with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. “I begin EMDR tonight. I haven’t gone to a dark, nitty-gritty place yet. So, I don’t know what to expect, really, no. . . I’ve only been to my Safe Place. I’m hoping tonight, my brain respects that it’s my first time and doesn’t force me down any too unwanted paths,” you chuckled humorlessly, willing it with your words. “Because I can’t control it – you might’ve read about that during your research. But, that’s why I have the Safe Place that I can escape to when things get too scary.”

Simply put, I’ll find you in the field of Lavender if it becomes too much, you tell him silently, eyes glancing over to his hand again. So strong and sure. . . he really did make you feel so safe. Even when it broke your heart to look at him for too long.

Goddammit. Your predicament sucked ass.

“Safe Place. . .”

“Yeah, it’s where you go when things become too much in your partial subconscious,” you explained, hoping he wouldn't ask any further about yours.

“That’s incredibly interesting,” he said, invested in every word. “I have read about it, actually. Lightly, at least. I won’t make you tell me yours. I know it’s a super personal thing,” he assured. Your heart fluttered at his genuine care for the situation. “But yours helps? It’ll be a good place to turn to if things get rocky today?”

“Yeah,” you responded, voice suddenly very teary at the thought of who your Safe Place was. The fact that it was the person sitting next to you, who seemed so honestly caring of the entire situation. Of course your mind had naturally conjured him. The way he made you feel in this moment was enough explanation. Your gaze traveled back over his figure, his soft, black sweater hugging him just right. “It felt like heaven last time,” you breathed, taken by him.

He must have sensed you looking, his eyes catching yours for the briefest moment, scanning your figure so quickly you momentarily thought you’d imagined it. Your tummy somersaulted. Before it could become anything more, the light he’d come to changed to green.

“I’m worried about my heart,” you absentmindedly commented, thinking of your recent run-in with the heart problems and the heart monitor still hidden beneath your shirt. Your eyes were trained on a line of old, weeping trees passing you outside the window.

He was weaving carefully down a side street in an expensive neighborhood. A neighborhood you’d gotten to know by now on your drives to sessions. Gia’s practice is right around the block. Your heart rate was already increasing at what could be awaiting you when you closed your eyes on her couch. “If it becomes too much, I don’t want my heart to fuckin’ Rick Roll me,” you finished, snorting at the ridiculous analogy. Hardly even made sense.

Jake’s signature laugh bounced throughout the car, sounding like Josh’s . . .but a little different. The sound made your pulse even out. A familiar, nice sound . . . Everything was okay. You’d be okay.

“Talk to Gia about it beforehand,” Jake suggested, laughter coming to a natural halt. He said the words, right as he pulled into the parking lot of the quaint private practice. “Rick Roll,” he said to himself, under his breath with a sighed laugh.

The office was modernized to the nines inside, all light colors and expensive trimmings. . . But on the outside, all that showed was an older, classic brick office building.

He switched the car off, pulling the keys from the ignition. The lack of keychains caught your eye, distracting you.

Focus on the matters at hand, y/n. . .

When he cleared his throat, you looked at him once more. “She will be willing to assist you however you need,” Jake reassured you with a sparkle in his eyes. “Just like she has always done for you. Just trust her.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. Throat clogged with wetness once more, you sniffed as you unbuckled along with Jake. “Trusting is hard for me. Are you coming inside with me?” You couldn’t help but comment on him moving to get out with you.

“Of course I am. I want to be there for you. Waiting in the lobby for you when you get out,” he smiled, opening his door. He looked over at you, raising a brow. “Don’t get out yet. I’ll help you out of this thing.”

Your heart soared at the way he cared, tears daring to fall as he got out to come to your side.

Seconds later, he was at your door, helping you out of the car. And as you walked through the parking lot to go inside, he huffed a laugh, not as a joke, but as an understanding form of acknowledgment to something. “I get the trust thing, though, honey. Hard for me, too.”

Honey. Always with that nickname these days.

Your line of sight darted to him from the corner of your eye, and you chuckled under your breath to agree. “Yeah. . .,” you said, eyes brushing down to mess with your cuticles for the second time that day. His arm came around your waist briefly, guiding you as you looked down.

At his touch, your skin became hot through the jacket and t-shirt you wore.

Your mind wandered to a few months ago as he kept a gentle hold on you, keeping you in step with him. The stinging feeling of guilt for making him trust you and then breaking his heart all in a matter of two months. . . . it made you want to scream, cry, yell. . . All at once.

You did it for his benefit, y/n. Remember?

But. . . .had you?

Blinking a few times, you focused on the building’s glowing sign, highlighting the early darkness of the winter evening. Finally, you fell back into the conversation, “Trauma response is what I’d call it,” you offered, clearing your throat of any emotion.

“Exactly,” he concurred. “A coping mechanism.”

Yes! You do get it. Why did you ever have to be an asshole to begin with? Maybe things could’ve been different. . ., your thoughts went back to the first day you’d met him, making your heart lurch in your chest. Or would it have been cut too short, no matter what? Is it simply how my story with you is meant to play out? Have you and then lose you?

The fact that you couldn’t indulge in a relationship with this man was one of the saddest, most unfortunate things the universe could offer you.

“You ready?” Jake asked, breaking the comfortable silence once you approached the door, his hand on the metal door handle.

You looked up and into his wide brown eyes, the amber in them sparkling under the parking lot lights. Your eyes studied his face for a second. . . just let yourself have a moment before answering him. Weird as it was, the deep circles under his eyes brought you comfort in that moment. The fact that they were a consistent feature of his, always prominent, made you breathe easier. . . . He was consistent.

He was real. He was here. You were okay. Everything was going to be okay.

“As I’ll ever be.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hmmm... ;) what are they getting into? how do you feel about reader being so suddenly interested in theo? what about her plan? do you approve? did you like the bit of insight into jake's perspective?? :o

see you soon for parts 2 + 3, love bugs! <3 prepare yourselves, that's all i'll say........

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake fic #my fics #covet #if you found this part intense in any capacity.....#just get ready for the rest of ch 11 lol <3

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penvisions · 6 months

Text

garnish {chapter 6}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader

Summary: You're overwhelmed with the realization of your attack and Joel tries his hand at comforting you as best he can.

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: reference to sa attempt, relationship talk, feelings of inadequacy, reader has a minor manic moment, body issues, reference to past body shaming, reference to past bullying, eating disorder, talk of ed, eating, cooking, a lot of food in this one, sexual content, p in v, joel's magic fingers, oral (f receiving), use of pet names, power dynamics (due to different job rankings), secret relationship, work dynamics, alcohol, consumption of alcohol, miscommunications, reader is described as flushing visibly through her tan skin (idk just covering my tracks w/ this one)

A/N: surprise chapter, anyone? today was a good day and i wanted to share this as it's been waiting for editing i took care of while waiting for class this evening. i'm not the most comfortable or best with writing full smut scenes, but i did my best. hope y'all like this?

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || kofi

Joel’s voice was carrying over from where he was in the kitchen. The phone had rung a few moments ago, stirring you both from slumber. His voice was even, his tone not giving anything away about what the conversation was about. It seemed to go on for a while, allowing you to drift back off.

“They put out a warrant, apparently this guy’s harassed some other girls around town.” His voice was quiet, once he realized your eyes were closed and you had snuggled back into the bed as he walked into the bedroom. You let out a whine and shifted to face him, eyes barely open.

Joel crawls back into the bed, not strong enough to resist the soft look you gave him as you lifted the corner of the covers for him in a silent request. He settled easily back into the bed, breath huffing out as he shifted to get comfortable.

He must’ve drifted off, his breathing evening out as you shuffled close to him and buried your face in his shoulder and hugged his arm close to you. He was warm, comforting over the spinning of the ceiling fan he had insisted on turning on last night.

You awoke to the feeling of fingers trailing over your own, over the hand you had put atop the bare chest you were resting your cheek on. A strong heartbeat was thudding in your ear, comforting. It picked up a tick when your hand flexed underneath Joel’s soft touches, the flutter of your lashes against his skin as you opened your eyes. Lips curling into a smile, you pushed your face further into his chest, fingers tangling with his own to rest over his stomach.

“Broke some ‘f your pretty nails,” His voice was a sleepy rumble, the gravel of his voice shooting straight to your core.

You pressed your lips to his chest in a kiss. Peppering them as far as you could reach before you had to shift to straddle hm. Thighs on either side of his waist, you trailed the kisses up to his collarbone, up the column of his neck, to the underside of his jaw. His chest was rumbling underneath your hands as he preened under the attention. His own hands gripping your waist where you hovered over him. You could feel the swell of him, and in a bold move you settled over him completely. He groaned at the pressure and his knuckles popped with the force he was gripping you with.

“Babygirl, you’re drivin’ me crazy, fuck, you’re so goddamn soft.”

“Then do somethin’ about it.”

“I want to, god, do I want to.” He pleaded with you, his eyes dark as he looked up at you, his hands never straying from their hold on your hips, his body not moving beneath you save for his breath. He licked his lips, pink tongue peeking out between them and you felt a jolt of heat. But he wasn’t moving, he wasn’t doing anything and his eyes took on a weird cast.

He wasn’t moving, he seemed to barely be breathing.

Your entire body stiffened, the loose, languid way in which you had rolled over him gone as you pushed off from him and sat in the spot you had just been laying in next to him.

“But…?” You felt the sting of tears in the back of your throat, making it hard to get the singular word out clearly. Small, you felt so small, like a piece of garnish that’s been pushed off a beautiful display of food to be forgotten. He wasn’t looking at you directly, eyes trained on the top of your head, his hands had fallen to his middle when you shifted up and away. But you were looking, seeing the way his face had contorted into something conflicted. As if he was at war with himself, his mind providing reasons for his hesitancy that he couldn’t or wouldn’t voice.

“Did I do something wrong or...?”

Tears betrayed your attempt at remaining composed, they raced down your heated face and you began to wring your hands in your lap. Still he didn’t move, so you shoved yourself from the bed and grabbed a hoodie, pulling it over your sleep shirt.

“Do you not…like the way I look?” You hated the way your voice came out in a weird staccato, as if it was warbling around the words that you were forcing through the tightness of your chest and into the air. A pair of sweatpants hushed as you pushed your legs through them and pulled them up.

Always self-conscious of your body, the way that everyone assumed things of you because of how you were built, how your curves filled out clothes more fully than some other girls. Not exactly skinny but not exactly fit, a little too much jiggle that sometimes made you try on outfit after outfit only to hide in hoodies when not at work. You couldn’t turn around at the sound of him shifting atop the bed, hands shaking where you tried to tame your hair that was most definitely mused from sleep. Face hot and hands shaking.

“I don’t know what I did,” Your voice cracked, a sob ripping through your body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…I didn’t meant to push you, Joel – I’m-“ Your breathing was uneven, lungs burning as they pushed and pulled what air they could between your cries. Your feet were quiet on the hardwood as you rushed toward the bathroom, just as you cleared the threshold, his arms wrapped around you and turned you around before pulling him into his chest.

Eyes flicking up, you took in the way he was watching you already. Eyes trained on the curve of his mouth as his tongue peeked out from between his own lips. You hadn’t done anything quite so bold yet, besides that rather heated make out session the day he admitted to wanting to be with you. It always felt like he was holding back, or you were too hesitant to initiate despite being the one to kiss him first.

You had decided to and it backfired into this.

“You didn’t do nothin’, trust me.” His voice rumbled in his chest, where your face was pressed to it, his lips pressed to your hair. “Darlin’, it’s me. I…I want to be that way with you, trust me, I really do…but you need to know some stuff about me first.”

You felt the deep breath he took in, his chest expanding where your face was pressed into him and your hands against the softness of his tummy.

“I also didn’t want to push you…after last night. Bein’ attacked like that…if you had seen yourself as you set in that office…”

You hiccupped as you tried to get your breath back, errant tears hot as they raced down your cheeks and into the fabric of the shirt Joel thrown on as he got up from the bed. Looking up at him, knowing how big your eyes must’ve seemed, you tried to see how sincere he was in his words. Anger at being handled flared and faded when his own gentle eyes met yours.

After calming you down, Joel decided that breakfast sounded like a good second start to the day.

“Was supposed to be Tommy and a date. Don’t,” He paused, lifting the decorated ceramic to his lips for a drink. “Don’t want you thinkin’ I would just send you over to a table full ‘a my family you didn’t know about.”

“Didn’t know about.” You repeated it evenly, attention focused on the act of scrambling four eggs in a bowl. Your heart was beating fast in your chest. Anxiety trying to claw its way out of your ribcage as you stood in your small kitchen with a talented, established chef with a decade or so of experience you were getting a glimpse of as he opened up. And you were frying up left over taco steak and eggs. “Don’t know a lot about you.”

“All you gotta do is ask, I’ll try my best to answer.”

“Sounds an awful lot like first date talk.”

The hiss of the eggs hitting the pan was the only sound for a moment.

“…is that somethin’ you would like?” His eyes trained on you as you padded around the small kitchen to gather up salsa and tortillas you had made the other day from the fridge. “To go out…on a date?”

“…yeah.” You breathed out, glancing over at him, taking in the way he looked so devastatingly good bathed in the soft morning light seeping in through the open blinds. You couldn’t meet the amber of his eyes, lit up with something other than the rising sun. Instead, you focused on the gray sprinkled in his scruff.

He moved behind you, his coffee cup abandoned next to your own. His chin hooked over your shoulder and his hands loosely held onto you waist, just close enough for you to feel him but not restrict your movements as you set about to make breakfast before a shared day off.

“Uh, Joel?” The busy street was lined with spots, the one he pulled into right in front of a salon. The pinks and pastels of the shop familiar as it was exactly where you had gotten your nails done two weeks ago. You looked over to him, across the cab of the truck. “This is my nail salon, not the warehouse.”

“It’s just down the way.” Was his uninformative response, one of his hands on the steering wheel while the other dug into the middle console to retrieve his wallet. He pulled out a silver card and held it out to you, secure between his pointer and middle fingers. “It’s gonna take a while to go over everything, figured you could get a new set instead of bein’ bored.”

Staring. That’s all you could do. Eyes taking in the way his thick fingers held the card out to you, connected to his strong forearms. Veins decorated his arms and the bulge of his bicep that strained against the short sleeves of his blue t shirt. His scruff was dark on his tan face and smelled faintly of your rose – lemon body wash.

“Darlin’, I’m not trying to get rid of you, honest.” His eyes caught yours and you felt your heart flutter as the brown of them lit you up. “Your nails were so pretty, and I know how upset you are that they got messed up. Just wanted to do somethin’ to cheer you up.”

All you could do was lean over the console and take his face in your hands, feeling that dark scruff beneath your fingers and pull him to you in a deep kiss. He let you move him, leaning closer at your urgent attention. His lips moved against your own just as urgently, like he had been counting down the time since he last had the opportunity.

The knock on your security door started you as you fluffed up your hair, giving it volume to fall around your face just right. Smoothing your hands down the red silk of the dress you had picked out, you walked over to the door. It had been a hard decision, standing in the mirror and tearing apart your appearance before finally just walking away. The small form of your fluffy cat playing with Joel through the glass of the door, the front left open. He brandished a dopey grin at you, a dimple appearing in his right cheek that had a heat flush your cheeks.

“Didn’t know you had somethin’ like this in your closet, darlin’.”

You took in the clean, black of his pressed pants, the black and dark green paisley of his dress shirt underneath a black suit jacket. His hair had been brushed back, curls swooping around the nape of his neck. He had trimmed his beard and mustache, a little less scruffy now. He looked good. Was that a gold chain around his neck, you reached up to where the top two buttons of his shirt were undone and uncovered the glittering there. It was.

“Uh.”

“Cat got your tongue?” He held up the little creature to you and she pressed her nose to your cheek, a scratchy lick following in. The smirk he aimed down at you had heat stirring to life between your legs.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” Was all you managed to get out, hand tugging lightly on the chain between your fingers and pulled him down to crash your lips together. Padded steps let you know he had set the cat down and his hands wrapped tight around your middle, bringing you against his chest.

Licking into his mouth, he eagerly returned the enthusiasm.

When his hands slipped underneath the skirt of your dress and rucked it up around your waist, he tucked one of his thighs between your own.

“Let. Me. See. It.” He nudged his thigh, creating friction exactly where you needed it and your vision wavered. He leaned his head back and drank in the sight of you. From the heat flushing the tan of your face, the way your chest moved in the fabric of the dress, to the flare of your hips as he moved his thigh against you, to the way your lips were swollen from his attention.

“Fuck, baby, we gotta make the reservation.” His fingers toyed with the band of your underwear, feeling the thinness of the fabric before he pulled away and adjusted himself.

The dining room is bathed in soft, low lights. Joel leads you to the table, keeping your arm wrapped around his easily, drawing you toward a table that is nestled into a semi-circle booth. The plush velvet of the booth is soft against the bare skin of your arms as you carefully scooch in toward the middle to face out toward the rest of the room. Joel movement is smooth as he follows suit. The thick frame of his glasses catching the overhead twinkling lights. His thick hand rests atop your thigh, tracing absentminded patterns in the silk of your dress.

“There’s no pressure to eat, I’d be happy just sharing a drink with ya, alright?” Joel pinned you with a look, somewhere between a mix of simmering concern to not offend you and seriousness to let you know he just wanted you to be comfortable.

“Can I get anything started for you?” A waitress popped up, smile bright and apron tight around her waist.

“I’ll take a Glenlivet, neat.”

“I’ll take a gin and tonic, Empress if you have it? I think I see the purple of it from here, but I wanted to check.”

“Of course, did you want that with a lime or lemon twist?”

“Hmm, lime and a cherry.”

“Got it, I’ll give you a moment to look over the menu. Let me know if you have any questions!” She moved away with a swing of her hair and a hand skimming the table. You looked after her, having noticed the way she wouldn’t look at your during the exchange, her eyes trained on Joel the entire time.

You felt shy all of a sudden, aware of how much skin you had on display for everyone to see. You fidgeted, knees bumping as you tried to make yourself smaller, take up as little space as possible. The scent of food wafting around the room made your stomach clench, realizing you hadn’t had anything since breakfast. But you worried about messing up the lipstick you had fawned over as you got ready, the color of it smearing and revealing that you weren’t as put together as you appeared. For everyone to see that you didn’t know what you were doing, that this was out of your comfort zone.

Sure, you could work in a place of such high caliber and elegance, but to be a patron?

“Hey, look at me.” Joel’s voice had an edge to it, the urgency of it causing you to snap your attention to him from where it had been trained on the shelves of the bar, but unseeing. Lost in the mental Olympics that your thoughts had delved into. “You seem nervous, we can go, we don’t have to stay even if we ordered drinks. Jus’ want you to be comfortable.”

“It’s just…I feel like I don’t belong, this place is so fancy.”

“No fancier ‘n my place,” He watched the way your eyes flitted from the cardstock menu to the servers bustling about, to the way you were clocking every movement from the door to the bar to the kitchen, every vigilant. Then it clicked for him, for all the confidence you had while at work it didn’t carry over into your personal interactions, to your everyday actions. Self-conscious and worried about everything translated into good work ethic. He knew about that, all too well. His hand on your leg tightened before he moved down to cup your knee. That’s why his previous behavior got to you so easily, he questioned your ability to shove it all down in order to thrive at work. The one place you felt comfortable enough to front and do a damn good job of it.

“You’re one of the most enamoring people I’ve ever encountered, you have my attention.” Your gaze on him softened, just as the waitress made her way back over to the table with two drinks in hand.

“Here you go, sir.” She trilled, setting the drink down in front of him carefully. She turned her attention to you and beamed, her eyes lighting up as she leaned down a little to offer the drink to you. She spoke with genuine words as she met your hesitant eyes. “Your dress is so beautiful; it really suits you. I wish I had your confidence.”

You could feel Joel’s hand tighten on your knee as you seemed to shift, some of the self-assuredness you carried at work settling into you. Spurred on by the kind words of another woman, the affirmation where there were so often thinly veiled insults thawing the icy anxiety that had taken hold of you.

“Thank you, I love your earrings. That’s one of my favorite movies.”

She blushed, her hand going to tuck a wayward strand from her face. The earrings looked just like the ones a character in an animated movie did, and she smiled shyly at the recognition.

“Thank you, I’ll give you two some more time. Chef Macey wanted to come by and greet you before you placed your order.” And she was off, with a little more confidence settling her own shoulders.

“Can’t keep my eyes off of you, the way that dress moves on your body, you fill it out so nice, pretty girl.”

Joel leaned in close and whispered in your ear before taking a sip from his drink. You nudged him with your shoulder, but the tint to your dark skin surely told him how you really felt.

Conversation flowed from that point on, both of you sharing with each other.

Joel dragged his lips down the column of your neck, entire body pushing you up against the front door of his house that he just closed. One of his hands loosely clamped both of yours above your head to against the wood, the other was caressing the skin of your hip. The silk skirt of your dress was hiked up around his wrist, the slit in the side of it allowing him easy access to trace his hands over you. His fingers skimmed where your skimpy underwear lined the crease of your thigh.

Your head hit the door you were up against with a thunk, hips canting forward as heat pulsed through your middle.

“Been wondering what you’ve got hiding under here all night, sweetheart.” He pressed the words into your collarbone, scruff brushing over you as he did so in a pleasant way. His fingers stroked the front of your underwear, feeling the fabric damp from his attention. He pressed harder, your swollen lips gliding together with a squelching sound and when his index finger caught the hood of your cunt, you couldn’t help the loud moan that pushed from somewhere deep in your ribs.

“Oh fuck, she’s so needy, isn’t she?”

You could only nod, unable to form words as you watch, enraptured by the man before you.

“Just begging for attention and she’s gonna get it, gonna give her what she wants.” He rasped as he used both hands to drag the fabric from your body down your legs. He let out a pleased sound at the sight of creamy slick gathered on the inside of them, his tongue coming to part his lips as he leaned forward to bury his face in the front of your dress. He stayed crouched down, hands groping your legs as he raised them, nuzzling his nose against the front of you, the sensation lighting you up from the inside out.

Lifting the fabric of your dress up, rouching it around your waist, he took your legs and brought them over his shoulders. Making sure your back was supported by the door, he leaned in and grazed the tip of his nose through your folds. Just hovering over the apex of your thighs, taking in the way he could see the slick glitter against your inner thighs from his attention. He licked up your slit with the flat of his tongue, hands holding tight to your stuttering hips as he supported you.

Your back arched, hands scrambling for purchase in the hair he had slicked. Tugging it gently from its careful placement and nails lightly scraping against his scalp had him groaning into you. The vibrations hitching your breath as pleasure stole the air from your very lungs.

Feeling boldened by your sounds and rutting, he carefully brings a hand down to circle your fluttering entrance with a thick finger before he slowly pushes into you.

“Ah, hah, fuck,” You keened when he curled it within the tight heat, pumping slowly and adding a second one before you could even catch your breath to beg for just that. It was too much, it wasn’t enough, it was just right. He groans as you clench tightly around his fingers, fucking them into you in slow drags to work you through up to the precipice. The feeling of your pulsing clit against the wet of his tongue where it swirled around making you dizzy.

Feeling the clench of your stomach, fire crackling deep in your core, you came suddenly with a shout.

Joel worked you through it, his fingers pumping in and out of your slick entrance. His tongue rolling over your sensitive clit as it pulsed harshly enough for him to feel. The aftershocks of your release twitching your muscles, you felt boneless in your satisfaction.

Suddenly deflating, your entire body slackens, and if it weren’t for the way Joel supported your legs you would’ve crumbled.

“Bedroom. Now.” He growled as he took you into his arms and carried you up the stairs. All you could do was cling to him, arms around his neck as he cradled you against his chest. With every step, you could feel the hard line of him straining against his dress slacks.

There was nothing that could’ve looked better, you mused as you watched Joel fists the long line of his cock, pumping himself slowly as he watched you from the foot of the bed. The way his body was on display for you, the way he was looking at you with a need that had been simmering for weeks, months now ever since you first met his eyes in the sunlight during that meeting so long ago. Muscles in his thighs jumping as you shifted to let your legs fall open, an invitation for him. The glistening of your release smeared over all of your cunt on display for him as your lips parted, allowing him to see how you fluttered around nothing as your eyes trained on the small dribble of precum that bubbled up from his tip.

He moved slowly, taking in the sight of your laid out before him on his bed, eyes desperate. Your hands trailed down the expanse of your body, miles of supple skin all for him. Fingers moving through course hair before finding your glistening lips, delved into the soft folds of yourself to circle your clit in small circles.

“Fuck, can’t wait, can ya? Greedy lil thing,” Joel’s knees hit the surface of the bed and he crawled over you, your legs falling open to make room for him as he pressed his warm body to you. He reached over to rummage in his bedside table, the crinkling of foil telling you he was fetching a condom. He held it between two fingers for you to see, like he had with his credit card earlier in the day. You nodded, grateful he had the awareness to think of it.

His fingers nudged yours away, taking over and sparking heat as he guided his cock to drag through your slick folds. His tip brushed against your sensitive clit and you gasped out, hands coming up to grip his biceps, the muscles firm. Pulling away, he quickly tore open the small package and rolled it on, pumping himself a few times as he watched the way your body trembled in anticipation. He notched himself at your entrance, pausing to catch your eyes as he slid in.

He moaned out at the tight feel of you taking him, the wet sound of you sucking him in to the hilt. He stilled, holding himself above you, chests brushing as you both breathed deeply.

“She’s taking me so well, baby girl, you’re taking me so well,” Voice low and sultry as his eyes trained on the way you were clenching tight around him, not moving quite yet as he reveled in the sight of himself nestled deep inside of you for the first time.

“Joel, please,” You panted, hands reaching for him, petting his chest, feeling the heat he was giving off and the soft brush of his dark chest hair against your palms. He gave an experimental thrust, dragging out nearly all the way until just the tip of his cock stretched you out to glide back in. You keened as he brushed against something deep inside, eyes going wide as you looked up at him. “Do that again, hard, please, Joel.”

“Fuck, I’ll do whatever you want if it feels this fucking good,” He pressed into you, his chest flush with yours as he leaned down deeper into your space. Your arms hooked around his neck as he thrust harshly into you, hitting that spot deep inside you relentlessly. Eyes clenching shut, he moved against you and all you could do was take it. You felt so full, pleasure warming you up like a fire licking at the edges of your skin.

The head of his cock brushed your cervix and your breath hitched before a guttural sound flitted from between your lips. One of your hands snaked down from around his neck to press on your lower belly and he grunted out at the added pressure.

“So full, so good,” Was all you could say, overwhelmed by the feeling of him all over. All around and inside of you, making you feel so good that tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. He moved against you in hard, deep thrusts that made your breath hitch on each impact. The stretch of him punching the air from your lungs just as he breathed it back into you with his lips so close to yours.

Pleasure washed over you, the heat all encompassing and you tried to warn him before your vision sparkled black and your body clenched impossibly tight around him.

“Fuck, you did so good, pretty girl. You came f’me so well.” He grunted with every move against you, his thrusts faltering as he neared his own peak. His forehead was heavy where he rested it against your own, skin slick with sweat and curling his mused hair. His dark eyes found your own, seeing the way you came back to yourself, he stilled deep inside you and filled the condom. The hot sensation of his release inside you, felt through the thin material, making your hips jolt up and rut against him.

Joel had started to take Wednesdays off, to share the day with you after you completed your classes. You had all three that day, the two you attended as a student and the one you were an assistant for. It was something you had noticed the first time he had slept over after a long shift the night before and offered to drop you off and fetch you afterwards. It was rather nice, to have someone waiting for you when you found yourself leaving campus around dinner time. He often offered to cook or get takeout from one of the Joel-approved establishments around the city. Paired with an offer to come to his place or hole up in yours and watch bad movies or sitcoms.

It was a nice way to spend the last couple weeks of the summer semester. The campus crowded with people attempting to get their credits during the faster paced season, but you felt like you belonged a little more, now having other parts of your life flesh out. Conversations with classmates shifted from talk about work to that and the addition of what you and Joel would get into.

Your close friend Nia was also very interested in the sudden influx of photos on your feed that were all cropped to show only snippets of Joel. Your legs tangled on the couch, his hand on your thigh while in the car, two coffee cups beside each other, two pairs of boots on a trail, the hint of a scruffy chin in the low light of a kitchen or backyard.

It was a lazy afternoon, the lingering scent of breakfast and coffee in the air of Joel’s cozy house as you stood underneath the hot stream of water in his master bathroom. He had let you sleep in, the day free from work and class. Only finals to complete over the next week. You took your time washing with his soap, the scent comforting as it wafted around in the steam that collected in the room.

Sighing, you pulled out one of his shirts from the dresser to go over your leggings. Pulling on a pair of socks and adding product to your hair, voices could be heard downstairs in the living room.

“Y’all can stay but…yes, she’s here.”

“Dad! You could’ve told us that when we texted we were on the way!” Sarah smacked him on the side of his arm with the book she had picked up to check out from the coffee table.

“Yeah, Joel, meeting the family is kind of something you gotta prepare her for.”

“It doesn’t matter how much we want to meet her if she’s not ready, if you aren’t ready.” Ellie pointed out, a dull look aimed at her father as she settled into the couch. They both watched Joel’s hands fidget as he thought it over. Weighing the options of what to do.

“…you’re right, lemme go and run it by her.”

As he climbed the last few stairs he came face to face with your form in the doorway leading into his room, a soft smile on your face. Your name fell from his lips as he took in the causal sight of you in his clothing, coming out of his room as if it was your own.

“So- uh, my girls are here, and they wanted to take me-us out to lunch.”

“Okay,” You watched the way he clenched and unclenched his hands at his side, a nervous tick of his you’d noticed before ever even talking to him outside of work matters. In a soft voice, you melted away his worries. “Then lemme get changed into some jeans.”

The smile he broke out into fluttered your heart.

They didn’t pass judgement on the way you only ordered an appetizer and shared a few bites of a dessert with them. They shared endearing stories of Joel’s attempts to parent them in the ways he thought was best, from stocking up on their favorite snack foods for when they visited, to doing research on the best mechanics and repair crews in their respective areas should he not be able to get to everything when he visits.

“Study groups have been outlined, please gather together.”

The packet handed to you had a post it with a message to stay after class, something about an application for an upcoming internship. You excused yourself for a moment, after taking the time to see who was in your group and settled together in a corner of the classroom. They smiled at you, letting you know it was okay as textbooks and reading for the class were brought out.

Waiting for the line to pick up after nervously hitting the call button underneath the number for the restaurant, you picked at a stray thread hanging from you shirt. It picket up after the seventh one, just before the typical recording of information and how to leave a message.

“Hi, yes, I’m looking for leadership?”

“Mary’s off today, it was supposed to be you today. Chef is here, but…he’s in a mood.” Millie spoke in a whisper, and you could picture her holding her hand over her mouth as she spoke into the receiver.

“When isn’t he?” You huffed, worried about having to tell him you were going to be late. You weren’t immune to the attendance policy. While Mary was relaxed about, lenient when she could be, it still adhered in most cases. Joel, however, as the owner, took it a little more seriously when it came to the kitchen staff. Needing them in order to run a high caliber of service. “Can you fetch him for me? It’s important.”

The line muffled, Millie not putting the line on hold but instead was probably walking the phone through the restaurant to the kitchen. You heard the sound of the swinging door on it’s hinges before the line came back in crisp quality.

“This is Joel Miller.”

“Joel, it’s me.”

“You’re due in at one.”

“I know. I…might be late. I got a note from my professor, they want me to see me after class. It might run long.”

“You’re the front of house leadership today, Mary’s out for that thing with her son.”

“Joel…I know. I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important, I’m not calling out, just letting you know I might not make it in time for my prep shift.”

“Can’t have that, it’s just a meetin’ with someone who regularly seeks you out while you’re on the bar.”

“Joel…”

There was the sound of a door closing and he spoke at a lower volume. “Text me any updates, okay? There’s somethin’ about it that I don’t like. Need to know everything is okay. Just get here when you can, I’ll get Millie to open the bar and make the section outlines.”

“I’m emailing you the outlines sections for who’s on shift, the reservation list and who gets what tables for that, and the things Millie needs to prepare for the ones with prefix menus.”

“…thank you.”

“You know…there’s no need for you to be jealous, Miller.”

“’m not jealous, just don’t like him, is all.”

“I’ll see you later.” You bit back the words that wanted to follow, holding them down until they lodged themselves at the bottom of your throat.

“I wanted to discuss the interest you’ve shown toward the internship I’m offering once the Fall semester begins. You were one of the first to apply.” Your professor stated as the last couple bodies from class exited out into the hallway. You just nodded, nerves still itching underneath your skin as you pulled up an errant chair to settle into, the desk separating you from him.

“Yes, I enjoyed the way you lead your class and think you have a lot to teach on how to apply that knowledge toward real world parameters.” You crossed your legs, trying to get feeling back into them, leg muscles twitching for having sat for so long.

“You certainly are one of the more qualified candidates and I always enjoy your work. But there is one concern that I have regarding the situation.” He leaned back slightly in his chair, the springs squeaking as he did so. He looked so calm and collected, like he did during lectures. He had all the knowledge and he was granting it to you, you wanted to continue to learn from him. He was a good teacher, a thorough instructor, a caring and thoughtful person who decided to share his knowledge with those of like-minded individuals.

“And that is…?”

You were worried he was going to tell you it would be unprofessional to offer it to you in the wake of him becoming a regular at the bar. That he was going to tell you he had feelings for you, that he wouldn’t be able to work in such close quarters with you for the duration of the internship. Something, anything, the smallest thing to prevent you from getting the position.

“It seems you and my…brother had a mighty big misunderstanding.”

Confusion halted your racing thoughts, the anxiety that had been humming through your veins during the entire class session. Everything in your mind blanked as the words clicked into place.

“Your broth- oh shit.”

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dividers: by the lovely @/saradika-graphics

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bugs1nmybrain · 10 months

Note

YESSSS PLSSSS l x reader smut 🙏 maybe they work together or smth and it gets a little frisky??

Admittedly, I don't know the logistics of being a detective outside of Death Note and crime documentaries, and I can't picture my self in that occupation. However, I like thinking of the idea of L and the reader sitting alongside in each other's company while he works on his cases via his computer, and the reader working on something else such as college homework. So I'll work with that ;).

Distraction

Minors Do Not Interact

Warnings: Heteronormative sex and relationship, L uses pet names like "my love" and "darling," desk sex, established relationship, reader is neurodivergent-coded, reader is a college student, reader is heavier than L, nipple/breast play, L uses clinical terms during sex, oral (fem-receiving), unprotected sex

L could not for the life of him keep his eyes off of you.

He was slightly confused, considering that today wasn't different from any other day. You sat next to him on your computer, doing work for your classes, and he worked on his cases, at least anything that wouldn't expose too much information around you.

Maybe it was that ridiculous wet dream he had of you last night. L doesn't sleep nearly as much as others. Not only did he see it as a wedge in his schedule, but his dreams sometimes distracted him because of his analytical perspective on everything. Sometimes he dreamt of his parents, sometimes about the cruelty of his job, and other times...you.

You weren't helping the situation. Of course you had to choose to wear a very form fitting outfit today. L almost had an issue with how revealing your outfit was, but he knew he shouldn't dictate things like that. But if anyone else looked at you the way he was right now, he wouldn't be happy.

Your shirt practically hugged your torso, giving L a perfect view of the shape of your breasts. Your shorts were also, indeed, short, showing off your gorgeous thighs and their beautiful complexion.

It wasn't only your body, though. L wasn't that shallow. It was also the cutest expression you made while you focused on your homework. How you'd scrunch your face when you didn't quite understand something. Your hair fell in your face and you'd tuck it behind to see your notes better, but then it would just fall back in your face. Even the way you sipped on your drink was turning him on. He felt animalistic.

L wasn't the type to get lost in temptation like this. Sure he indulged in any sweets he wished without the consideration of the toll it would take on his body. And yes, he'd take some almost impulsive, bold decisions when he was determined to take a step further in an investigation. Perhaps he was someone who was swayed by temptation, now that he thought about it.

"L?"

Oh god. Now your voice.

"What is it, love?"

The most insignificant terms of endearment always made you blush or giggle. And it was adorable to him.

"I..um..I'm having a bit of trouble with this part of my homework. Would it..? I don't mean to pry for answers, but-"

"No need to apologize. What is it you're confused about?"

L took this opportunity to move his rolling chair directly next to yours. He leaned over your shoulder, peaking at the laptop in front of you. Lucky for him, he now had a wonderful view of your breasts.

You perked up at his close proximity, and L could've sworn he saw you squirm a bit.

"I'm having trouble with using Excel for the Goodness-of-fit test (you were taking a Statistics class). I checked my data and it's all correct so I'm really confused why my answers aren't coming out right."

L took a look at your screen and in a matter of two seconds knew what was wrong, "You have to round up your expected values to the closest whole integer. It should come out right if you do that."

You smiled beamingly and returned with a, "thank you."

"Of course, darling." L leaned in to kiss your cheek, eliciting a bright smile and blush. You were avoiding eye contact with him, but he knew that was your signal of enjoying his affection. L noticed early on that you were easily charmed by displays of affection, whether that be words of endearment or physical affection. L was not one for touching anyone before you. He had begun to learn how touch-starved he also was when you two had begun your relationship.

The look on your face and your body language was enough to make him hard. Your reactions are what got him the most.

L brought his hand to stroke your hair around your neck gently, making you tingle under his touch.

"Do you have anything else planned for the day?"

"Not really. This is the last bit of homework I have for the day. I don't know what I want to do after that."

"Mm.." L leaned closer, and wrapped his arms around your waist (as much as he could manage with you being in a chair).

You laughed playfully yet again but leaned into his touch. L took it upon himself to make a move, having an inclination that you wanted him to be more affectionate with you. He gently kisses the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine, and a delightful hum from you.

"You're so beautiful, did you know that?" L teases.

You laugh and blush at his compliment, "You must be lying."

"Not at all. The truth is, you're gorgeous. I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes off of you today because of your beauty and charm."

"I noticed."

Of course you did. You were an observant person, which is something L admired about you. Though maybe it wasn't too hard to tell, for he hadn't necessarily been sneaky with his glances at you.

"Does it make you nervous when I look at you like this?" L probes.

"No. Well, I feel a little embarrassed, but I'm not uncomfortable by you."

"There's no need to be embarrassed, I'm merely admiring how adorable you are. I don't want you to feel self conscious."

But deep down, L found your shyness cute and he often took advantage of it. L begins trailing soft kisses along your neck as he held you.

"Mmfmm."

Your voice was going to drive him crazy. If you two weren't in separate chairs right now, you would be able to feel L's prominent erection through his pants. L moves his hands from your waist to the sides of your arms, touching them in a feather-like motion in an attempt to make you feel just as aroused as he is. You sigh desperately at his loving affection.

"You're distracting me from my homework..," you say playfully.

"Good. You've been distracting me all day," L retorts.

An instinctive breathy laugh comes out from you but quickly turns into a pleasured yearn. L takes this as an invitation to turn your chair around.

"Sit in my lap."

"Um..."

"I don't want to hear the excuse that you're too heavy. I insist."

L's look of lust and need makes it apparent that he's aching for this. You oblige his request and rest yourself on his lap, trying not to put your whole weight down. L places his hands on your hips, though, and pulls you down. You underestimated his strength sometimes, because of how light he is.

L initiates a deep, romantic, and passionate kiss. His lips embrace yours tenderly, yet full of yearning. You grind your hips along his crotch, feeling his very obvious boner, which causes a spike of arousal in your pussy.

The kisses between the two of you quickly become much more heated. L slips his tongue to search for an entrance, and you allow him to explore yours as he gropes your breasts, though not too rough. L was a very meticulous lover and not very aggressive. No one would've been able to tell that he's a very tender, sweet, and loving boy. He only let you see that side of him.

He tweaks your left nipple through your shirt, causing a surprisingly powerful response from you. Sounds of pleasure exit your mouth and you hold onto your boyfriend close for comfort. He continues to run his thumb along your sensitive bud, and makes sure to begin to give the other just as much attention.

"Aaahh~"

"Hmm..does this feel good, my love?"

"Y-yes.." you whine.

L continues his treatment as he kisses you. He then removes his hands, which makes you somewhat disappointed, but he proceeds to pull your shirt over your head. He looks at you unapologetically and is unable to help raising his pointer finger to his lip as he gandered at you. You were so beautiful, so perfect for him. Just for him.

His face was dusted a light pink, evident that he was aroused. Though, the continuously growing and grinding of his boner made that much more obvious. L continues to care for your tits, leaning in to suck on your right nipple as he played with your left with his finger. The reactions you gave him was enough to make him go absolutely mad.

You gasp and moan, a bit embarrassed by his fixation on your chest, though it wasn't exactly a bother. It felt very good, as you were quite sensitive there.

You tug at the back of L's shirt, attempting to pull it over his head. He removes his latch on your breasts and allows you to take it off. He shuddered a bit at the cold air against his bare skin, but when you press your own nude torso against his, he feels a sense of warmth and comfort.

The kisses continue, and you begin rocking your pussy on L's groin, causing a grunt to exhale from his mouth. Your crotch moves directly up his shaft from what you can tell through the fabric, and L's hold on you tightens. You lower your head to kiss the nape of his neck, teasing up to the most sensitive spot that you're aware of.

"Ah..Y/N...."

"Mmm," you hum against the kiss on his neck as you simultaneously tease his bulge.

"Y/N..it hurts.."

You look up, scared that you did something wrong.

"What does?"

"My..my penis. It aches, I want it out." L sounds entirely desperate at this point, as his words are becoming jumbled. It made you so horny that you were allowed the privilege of observing him in this manner.

You raise yourself from his lap, which draws out a whine from L, that indicates his need for you. You lower yourself down on your knees in front of him. You realize that the chair he is in is too tall for you to do anything, so you crank the setting so that the chair lowers. When it does you unbutton L's pants and drag them off of him. All that remained was his underwear, that had a wet spot forming along the tip of his cock. It looked so tight around his boxers that you were sure it was somehow painful.

Wrapping your fingers around the hem of his underwear, you pull them down and watch as his cock springs out. It was a little funny, but you held back the laugh in case it made him insecure. You take his pretty cock in your hands and begin stroking it.

"Aah..love.."

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes..but, please, I...I need you."

"Hm?"

"I know what you want to do to me but...I need you. To be inside of you. If you do that, I'll cum too fast and won't be able to penetrate you later."

"I thought I'd help you out with my mouth."

"I know, darling, but I can't wait."

You smile, flattered by his desire for you. You supposed a blowjob would have to wait for another time. Standing up, you leaned closer to kiss him again, and he practically pulled you into his embrace. While he cups your face with one hand, he finds his way to the button of your shorts with only his one hand. He was skilled like that. L pulls your shorts down your legs and is taken aback by how wet you were. He couldn't bare to not touch you.

His diligent fingers grazed your pussy, teasing it in a back-and-forth manner, causing you to whimper. He circled two fingers around your clit lightly, drawing the most pretty sounds from you. His cock was leaking from how seductive you were. Arching your back for him, pushing your pussy into his touch to encourage him to be rougher. He then stands up to place you on top of his desk, and he knelt before you.

L passionately places kisses along your inner thighs and proceeds to the outer labia of your pussy, neglecting your starving clitoris.

"L...please.."

"What's that, love?"

"Please..my.."

"Your what?"

URG. He was such a tease, and he most certainly did it on purpose.

"Please, my clit," you whine desperately.

"Of course, love. Who am I to deny you of that?"

Then, just as you had wanted, L wraps his tongue and lips around your clitoris and sucks it with eagerness. He was so perfect at what he did. L knew all of your sensitive spots, and how to touch you in such a way that makes you absolutely crazy. Your clit continues to be pulled by L's skilled lips, and he proceeds to flick his tongue up and down it.

"AaAH!"

"That's it baby, make all the sounds you need to."

L attacks your clit with his mouth some more, and his gentle demeanor dissolves as he doesn't hesitate to bring you to complete ecstasy. He was determined to make you cum all over his face. His sucks and licks become aggressive, almost overwhelmingly pleasurable. You weren't going to last much longer.

"L-I'm.."

"I know, love. You can do it for me, I know you can."

"MMfmH! Aaa~" and in a matter of 3 seconds, you clit spasms and slick fluid gushes out of your pussy, drenching L's face in your cum. Both of your breaths are heavy, and L briefly observes your pussy twitching. He reaches over to his pants and wipes your arousal off of his face.

L hovers above you, looking you in the eyes, to which you avert your gaze. It isn't that you didn't love looking at him, you were just bad with eye contact. He gently tilts your face to look at him, not so much as to force you to look at him, but because he wanted to see your facial expressions.

"I want you, Y/N..I want to fuck you so bad."

"You can. I want you to.."

He kisses the side of your neck and grabs your thighs to lift your legs, giving him full access to your pussy. He lines himself up to your entrance and sinks himself inside. The both of you are immediately struck with pleasure at the contact.

L thrusts at a moderate pace, making sure he figures out the perfect angle to hit your g-spot. It doesn't take him long at all, as you are moaning in complete pleasure, causing him to become entirely engrossed in arousal. L can't help but to quicken his pace, fucking you passionately as he kisses you. He watches your face intently, discerning what makes you quiver the most, but also just for his own personal amusement.

Seeing you like this. Completely cocksick for him and needy. Your warm, wet, soft, and tight walls drive him beyond enjoyment. Your face as he thrusts in you perfectly, the way you furrow your eyebrows and part your lips is so alluring and beautiful. It makes him addicted to you.

"I love you.." L mumbles.

You grip your arms around his shoulders and allow him to thrust deeper. "I love you too."

L holds you tight, fucking you carnally. Right now, he needs to cum inside of you, to claim you as his own lover. No one else but him can feel how gooey you are and see how vulnerable you become from his attention.

Your tight walls clench and he knows that he's not going to last much longer. He can feel the initiation of an orgasm coming, and he buries his face into your neck.

"Y/N...I'm going to cum.."

"Cum in me.."

You didn't have to tell him twice. With a few more fast thrusts, L finishes by bucking inside of you and cumming deep in you. Surely his seed was entering your womb. It's a good thing you're on birth control.

"Awh..darling, you're.."L's breath is heavy, "you're perfect. I love you so much."

"I love you..I love you more than I could ever tell you."

"Is that so?" L teases.

"Yes," you giggle.

"Hm..well, perhaps we should clean up. I'm sure Watari isn't going to want to take care of all of this."

"Yea, haha. You're right."

L kisses your forehead tenderly, and you both get dressed and clean up the mess you two made.

Lucky for L, he got just what he wanted.

#l lawliet smut #l lawliet #l lawliet x reader

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tomuras · 2 months

Text

| My Honey |

Pairing: Acheron x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Selfship Coded, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Acheron goes by She/Her pronouns, Break In (nothing bad happens), Reader has Abandonment Issues, Reader is referred to as a girl, Reader goes by No Pronouns but is very much mentioned to be fem, 3.1k words.

A/n: This is my attempt at my first Acheron fic. This was going to have smut but it just felt very out of place so I removed it. So, yeah this is just a big heaping handful of hurt/comfort lmao

Summary: It’s been two years since Acheron left so suddenly and her disappearance haunts you to this day.

Tagging: @auphelia @suyacho @themovingcastlez

Time moved so slow as of late, always taunting you with the subject of her absence. It had happened so suddenly and before you could protest she was but only a memory. A memory that followed you everywhere you went, tormenting you. You’d lay down to sleep and her piercing eyes would cut their way into your mind. Dreams of her body against yours turn into nightmares in a flash. Everything about her followed you even after so many years and eventually you decided to accept it, embrace it. Sure, she would never return home, but maybe one day those nightmares would turn into pleasant dreams, and perhaps at some point you’d stop crying out her name in your sleep.

“Acheron..” You called out, but there was no answer.

Most nights were spent like this, lonely in bed aching for the touch of her hand, and even more were filled with you crying out into the darkness. She was never there, always a drifting memory in your empty life. You’d only known her for a couple years before she left but it was enough to get addicted. You still remember how her eyes lingered on your body, soaking in the sight of your curved form. Even after all this time you could feel her presence lingering over yours as if she was still there, looming over your body like a curse.

You tossed and turned in your bed, clinging to the blankets as if they were Acheron. The lack of her scent stung your nose, so empty and clean. All you wanted was her warmth to keep you company. Little did you know of a stranger's presence in your room, stroking a hand against your resting face. The figure stands over your sleeping form, watching calmly as your breathing remains steady even though you were very clearly troubled by something. They look one last look before climbing out your bedroom window and jumping onto the ground below.

It isn’t until morning that you notice something amiss. The room is cooler and something seems�� off, but nothing too out of the ordinary. Although you thought about it all day regardless. The rest of the day is spent doing mundane things, busying yourself so as to not think of the woman you still loved, who’d up and vanished like it was nothing to her. You got a drink of water and your eyes glossed over the mug that used to be her favorite. Cooking dinner was no easy task either, because you were eating her favorite. Although that was entirely of your own fault, no one else's. Still, the grief was an experience you lived through everyday. The day was long and empty, each breath you take a painful reminder of what you had loved and lost. So, you decided to cut your losses and go to bed early. No good could come from staying awake any longer. Not all days were this bad, just today. I mean, it was the anniversary of her disappearance, after all.

Even in the warmth of your bed you felt cold, a sickly feeling settling into your bones like it was home. You gripped the edge of your blanket in your fist, silent tears falling onto the fabric. Why couldn’t things have been different? Why didn’t she even say goodbye? So many questions ran through your mind, all without an answer to accompany them. Sure, it’d been years and yes, you should’ve moved on by now, but you couldn’t. God dammit, it was her, it was always her, and she left you without saying a word. Why would she do that? Did she not love you like you did with her? These questions haunted you until the moment you finally slipped into unconsciousness.

In your sleep you dreamt of nothing, just a vast empty field full of wilted roses. On the horizon was the setting sun, falling past the ground as darkness nearly began to envelop you. It was beginning to get dark with every passing second. Ignoring the uneven path before you, you pressed onward. Water splashed quietly underneath your feet as you made your way through the field. Slowly, little by little, the flowers began to bloom and the darkness grew into light. That’s when you saw a shadow of a figure standing before you. They did nothing but stand there, waving to you just seconds before you woke up gasping for air. Your face was damp with tears, your heart raced, and you felt.. Different.

Quickly you made your way out of bed, not paying attention to your surroundings as you frantically went to the kitchen to get a cold glass of water. As you poured the water into the cup you told yourself all would be fine. It was just a dream, you thought. Just a horribly familiar dream. Tears began to stream down your face, still. You took a sip of water, a single small drink before pouring the rest into the sink. You cared less of how wasteful you were being, only focused on the awful dream you had just experienced. Something in your chest bloomed in agony. Would everything always feel this awful? You shook your head as if to shoo away the thoughts.

Dragging yourself back into the room you didn’t bother to look up, not until you felt a sudden warmth, along with being welcomed into a room that was even darker than you remembered. That’s when you looked up and saw a person, someone familiar. Her. At first you didn’t know what to say. Your immediate reaction of fear quickly dissipated as your eyes locked onto hers. It had been years, years, and she came back. There was so much you told yourself you’d say if this were to ever happen, but none of them came to you right now. Instead you simply whispered her name like a forbidden prayer.

“Acheron..”

Her sorrowful expression blossomed into something hopeful and happy. She nodded, reassuring you that she had indeed returned home. Everything happened so suddenly just like when she left. Instantly you reached out to her, trying your best to walk towards her, but instead you fell to your knees. At least you would’ve had she not caught you in her arms. Acheron held you close, pressing your head to her chest as you clung to her and cried out a life’s worth of pain. You weren’t sure whether you were sobbing because of the pain or the sheer shock of her return, either way it felt as if your life was ending just as it had begun.

Acheron didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if she should say anything. She wanted to say how sorry she was, confess how much she loved you, still loves you, but the words were lodged in her throat. It felt like hours in which she held you, stroking your hair and shushing you lovingly as you cried in her arms. Maybe it had been, but neither of you cared about anything or anyone but each other at that moment. The only thing that mattered to you was holding onto Acheron so tightly that she’d never leave, again. Acheron had no intention of leaving your side ever again, though. She knew she couldn’t just say that, she’d have to prove it over time, but she’d prove it for an eternity if that’s what would make you feel better.

Finally your cries began to die down into something more quiet, you still clung to her but pulled away slightly to look up at the woman who’d walked right back into your life. “Why? Did I–” You were swiftly interrupted by Acheron’s voice.

“No. That had nothing to do with you.” She replied firmly.

Still, you had your doubts and Acheron knew this. You rested your head against her chest, your hand hanging onto the loose fabric of her coat. Inhaling her scent you felt your body finally seem to relax, rocking itself into a state of relief. Your grip on her began to lessen as you felt your eyelids fall, exhaustion finally setting as Acheron continued to stroke the back of your head. You were moments from falling asleep when she spoke.

“I’m so sorry.” Her voice was a whisper, barely audible had you not been wrapped around her.

You pulled back to look at her. She was crying, trying her best to avoid your eyes and hide her tears but failing regardless. Placing a soft hand to her cheek you pressed your forehead to hers, then adding your remaining hand to her opposite cheek.

“It’s okay.. It’s okay..” You whispered back.

She tried pulling away but your hands kept her grounded and in place, you weren’t strong by any means, Acheron just couldn’t bear the thought of putting any distance between the two of you. Was it okay, though? Truly could this agony she caused be relieved in any way? She gripped you close, holding the back of your head as she tried to will her tears away. Sadly, that did nothing to quell her sorrow. You tried to get her to look at you, reassuring her as you tried pulling away but she refused to loosen her grip. It wasn’t until you pushed her away and grabbed her face to look at you.

“Acheron, listen to me!” There was a brief moment of silence before you continued. “I know it won’t be easy and I know you hurt me badly. Trust me, I know, but I’m.. I’m willing to try.. Try to make this work. At least I will try if you will too?” You try to remain confident but your words fall into a question rather than a statement.

Acheron couldn’t deny how badly she wanted to run away again, far far away, but she refused. She would not do to you, again, what she did before. No, she would do things differently this time, that she swore to herself. She wrapped you up in her arms again and gave you a tight squeeze.

“I’ll do whatever it takes.” She whispered. “I promise.”

You smile and hug her back, crying tears of joy from hearing her words. Maybe there was hope for you two after all.

The both of you held each other for a while. Although it felt like hours it had only been mere minutes. Then you sat up slowly and looked at Acheron with a smile, kissing her gently on the lips.

“Come on, let’s get something to eat.” You stand up and hold out a hand for Acheron to help her off of the floor.

“Okay.” She replied softly.

You led Acheron to your kitchen where you pulled a chair out for her at your round, wooden table as you quickly rummaged the cabinets to prepare her a glass of water.

“Water okay?” You ask.

She nods and hums in approval.

After pouring her a glass you set it on the table, and then go to make yourself a cup of coffee. You add your usual to it, stir it and then sit it on the table, as well. You sit down for a moment to take a sip of your coffee, think of what you were going to make her now that she was home. Did she still like the same things? Has her palette changed that much? Would she want something different or find comfort in the same old things?

“Is everything alright?” She asked hesitantly, her voice pulling you from all those daunting thoughts of yours.

Your hands shook as they curled around the coffee mug, you didn’t know what to say. What should you say?

Acheron reaches out a hand and places it on top of yours gently. “Hey, I’m not goin’ anywhere. Never again.” She smiles at you fondly and you know that her words are true.

Still, that doesn’t erase the doubts that linger in your mind. Maybe a meal would ease the anxiety itching at your stomach. “Yes, I’m okay. I think..” You paused. “I think I just need to eat something.”

You pull away so suddenly and begin to look through the fridge for something to eat, then as you drowned in your thoughts again you began to frantically look for that one food. It had been here before, you didn’t eat it, not that you remembered, anyway. So, where the fuck was it? Why was everything so unorganized? Why hadn’t you thought to have food readily available for moments like this? Why were you so messy? Why were you such a mess? Why were you so fucking pathetic?!

“Hey,” A hand gripped your wrist and you were flipped around to face Acheron. “That’s enough.”

Tears flowed down your face, staring at the ground in shame as Acheron moved to quietly shut the fridge door. This was her fault, she did this to the girl she loved the most. She had to pay for the consequences but you shouldn’t have to. Acheron took her hand and moved your head to bring your attention back to her.

“Listen to me, you did nothing, absolutely nothing to make me leave.” She whispered, her lips inches from yours. “I loved you then and I love you now.”

Oh, how you wished you could believe her.

“But..” You started to speak but not before Acheron promptly shushed you.

“No. I mean it.” She paused, looking deep into your eyes before averting her gaze slightly. “This is my burden to bear, not yours.”

Although she was correct in that fact you couldn’t shake the scratching feeling that you could’ve at least done something. You should’ve seen the signs you so commonly told yourself. Logically you knew you shouldn’t think like that but you couldn’t help it. The event truly messed you up and it made you second guess whether things would work with Acheron. Thankfully you came to your senses fairly quickly. This would not be an easy fix, it would take time and energy neither of you probably had, but it would be worth it. Sure, some would call you a fool, but you already lost her once and you weren’t about to do it, again.

Acheron thought about saying something but resisted, not sure if the words were productive to say. She shouldn’t and refused to be selfish at a time like this, no matter how guilty she was feeling at that moment.

“It’s going to take some time, maybe too much time, but the work will be worth it. You are worth the work.” She reassured you.

She placed both her hands on your face and rubbed the pad of her thumb against your cheek. “I fucked up, royally. I know it and you know it, but, please, let me fix this. Let me prove to you my love.”

Her words stung in the way that they were so raw. Acheron had in the past kept many things from you, holding her honesty as something only some deserved to know. Unfortunately she realized a little too late that you deserved that honesty. Fuck, how she wished she could take it all back in a heartbeat. She smiled weakly at you and you leaned in closer, your lips now just barely grazing hers.

“I trust you.” You whispered against her lips, then softly pressing your lips against hers.

She pushed you away gently, her face filled with an expression of pain. “No. I don’t deserve it, not yet at least.”

“Shh, just trust me..” You shushed her, leaning in for another kiss.

This time she didn’t pull away, too captivated by the touch of your lips to even want to back away. Granted some scared part of her dug deep down wanted to run far away, but she couldn’t and wouldn’t. Although it would be the easiest option it was not the one she truly wanted. It was not an option in her mind, the only choice she had was to love you. Acheron swore she would love you even when her hands shook and your body withered away, becoming food for the ground. She would love you even when the two of you were no longer bodies to feed and rather just souls floating into the empty chasm of space.

She pushed her lips harder against yours, whimpering a little at how you grabbed at her shirt. You were so desperate for her love that it threatened your body with a wound you feared could not be cured by Acheron’s hands. You didn’t care, though, you just wanted Acheron. Wanted her to touch you, fuck you, love you. Truthfully you just wanted Acheron in any way she was willing to give herself. You ached for her, the good and bad, ignoring any potential consequences it could give.

Acheron clumsily pushes your back against the fridge as your lips part and teeth clash in the heat of the moment. Your hands roam her body as hers hold onto your face firmly. Both of you are filled with fervent desire, kissing one another feverishly. The two of you fight for dominance until you pull back out of the kiss panting and looking up at Acheron with wanting eyes.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away.” Acheron apologizes.

You smile. “It’s okay. I- I didn’t mind.” You admit.

She blushed as her hands, which were by her sides, were grabbed gently by your own. You rubbed the back of her hands with your thumbs, humming something familiar as you did so. Acheron heard it somewhere before, but memory failed her. She leaned her forehead against yours and closed her eyes, humming in pleasure as she feels you kiss her cheek gingerly. The both of you hold where you’re at before you grab her face and give her a gentle kiss.

“Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” You say, starting to get some eggs, milk, and sausage from the fridge. “You must be hungry.”

Acheron hums. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

Although you can’t see the great big smile on Acheron’s face, it’s there. She stands beside you and watches with glimmering eyes as you start to prepare the pan to prepare a very early breakfast. Maybe, she thought, things would be okay. Perhaps you two would make it out to see the light, after all. Either way, one thing was for sure, Acheron was beyond happy to be back into your life. Life wasn’t as bad as she’d always felt it was. For once, she felt truly and undoubtedly happy.

#acheron x reader #acheron x you #acheron x y/n #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n

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prose-among-the-trees · 6 months

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I feel the need finally to bring up introjects in a way that’s going to be a hot take, because good god am I sick of having things that I have experienced physically be told to me by those who haven’t.

I respect whatever an introject remembers or identifies with from their source, and I’d like to say this straight off because this is important. I know of alters and parts for whom source is integral to their identity, specifically the way it relates to day to day trauma and how that intermingles.

That being said, please, as an introject who has had something happen or occur or has some sort of disability from source, do not try to tell me what it is like because I have already experienced it physically.

You got scars in whatever media you were sourced from? Lovely, but as someone who is forced to bear that burden of looking deformed when those scars can be visible every single day, do not try to tell me what that is like.

You have physical disabilities that were gained or you were born with in whatever media you introjected from? Perfect, but as someone who cannot function without my heart being assisted by pacemaker, do not tell me what it’s like to struggle as though I’ve not gone through it and as though I do not continue to bear that weight.

You as an introject are of a certain race in source and remember knowing about the food you consumed of that culture? Do not try to correct me, as someone of that culture, on what I identify with and hold.

You have memories of sexual assault from the media you were sourced from? Do not dare presume you can speak over those who have experienced that bodily.

Source memories, pseudo memories, exo memories, whatever you’d like to call them, are individual to your trauma and your struggle as someone with osdd or did. I understand that.

However, your source does not give you the right to talk over, to one up, or God forbid to “educate” those who have dealt with or experienced those issues on how to live with them.

I spoke to an introject today who had scars in their source and identifies with them as an alter. When I spoke up about my own, I was told that I needed to speak someplace where I would not upset others. Because my scars are not desirable or battle caused, I cannot discuss my own experiences.

This in essence is a lot of the issue I have with fictive heavy online systems on places like discord or even tumblr. These memories, these source associations, which I know are indicative of their own trauma in some way, somehow surpass the validity of someone who has actually experienced the struggle physically because it’s more presentable and more desirable.

It’s not all of them, but it’s enough of them that the fictive heavy/introject heavy syscord systems now have that reputation, and it makes interacting so frustrating.

I should not have to explain why claiming an experience you haven’t physically gone through as though you have because you’re an introject is bad. I shouldn’t have to explain that speaking over individuals who deal with these things physically is actively silencing minority groups.

Again let me note that I have full respect for introjects who identify with memories that did not happen to their body. The only thing I ask is that I’m not spoken over in favor of more desirable or digestible experiences that they claim are just as impactful as me living with the things I do.

I know systems who have these memories and respect others who have experienced them physically. For those of you who fall into this category, thank you. You know who you are.

For those of you who believe in things like alter race, separate disabilities being just as valid as experiencing them physically (to the point that you’re trying to educate bodily disabled people/systems)- please listen to those who are frustrated and angry. Please understand why trying to speak over and educate that group of people or any group of people as though you’ve gone through it physically is damaging.

I understand your memories reflect your trauma, likely indirectly for some of you, and I empathize with that.

Please take the time to be respectful to the voices of the groups that have been silenced and spoken over in favor of an introject’s take on something purely source related.

The people of color with osdd or did that have been speaking up about others claiming their races as alters have been laughed off or told that they’re overreacting. They are not. Keep fighting the good fight guys. You’re fantastic in every way. As someone who isn’t in that position, I want to uplift your voices and the things that need to be said. You’ve got my support all the way.

In the past I’ve let other systems try to explain why alter race exists and why their ‘alters of color’ are just as valid as actual people of color. I believed them.

An alter who has the memory or individual source created experience of being oppressed but has not been that way bodily cannot claim to struggle in the same way.

If you got this far reading, thanks. I’m glad I was able to share this with someone.

Be safe.

-🧠 🌲 🔭 🫀 (group effort for this post)

#syscourse #dissociative identity disorder #did osdd #did #actually did #actually dissociative #dissociative system #syscord #system discourse #traumagenic system #sysblr

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rogersideup · 11 months

Text

Nice to be kneaded

Chapter 13

Cardboard Castle

Series Masterlist

Previous part: Homecoming Next Part: Cinnamon Roll

Word count: 6,205

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions of medical equipment, loss, abuse, PTSD, anxiety and depression.

After a short overnight shift at the Bakery, you went home to change clothes then snuck your way into Steve's house for a surprise. Walking in always felt invigorating as if you were committing a crime, but his house key on your key ring told you and the cops otherwise.

You tiptoed up the stairs and slowly opened his bedroom door to find him sound asleep. The sight of him laying on his stomach with his arms above his head and his face squished against the pillow made you smile and your heart melt. The framed picture he had added of the two of you on his nightstand since he had been back in Greenwood also made your heart melt.

A peaceful, content Steve had to be one of your favorite sights in the world, but so was a happy Steve so you were more than okay with sitting next to him and rubbing the bare skin on his back to wake him up.

Your hand made its way from the center of his spine, up and across his shoulder blade, and onto his shoulder before giving him a firm squeeze and a kiss on his temple. He calmly stirred awake, and his furrowed eyebrows relaxed when the smell of your perfume resonated in his head.

"Good morning, Baby." You said before running your fingers through his hair.

A smile spread across his face before he threw one of his arms across your lap, and shoved his face into the side of your hip. There was a few additional moments of processing time before he lifted his head and squinted his eyes from the bright light shining into his room. "Hi" He mumbled.

You giggled at his lack of energy. "Hi"

"What time is it?" He asked, voice hoarse and raspy.

"7:15"

"Oh shit I slept in"

"That's a good thing, Honey." You leaned over to give him another kiss but on the cheek this time.

"How was work?" He mumbled, turning into his side to see you better.

"It was good, definitely nice to be back. The girls were asking about you, by the way." You grinned. "I know you've met some of them already, but I think they all want to meet you."

"Okay, let's go right now." He yawned before rubbing his face with his hand.

"No," You laughed. "Not right now."

“Why not?"

"Because I have some big plans for us today, that's why I came to wake you up." You explained.

"Big plans?!"

"Yeah, I was hoping you were free to hang out with me for the day."

"I can right now but I'm busy later" He told you, enjoying the head massage you were giving him.

"Oh yeah? What are you doing later?" You questioned with a smile.

"I have plans to take this really pretty girl on a date." He informed you.

"Oh really? Who?"

"You!" He enthused.

"Me?! I can't!" You denied.

"Why not?" He pouted.

"I have plans to take you on a date later!"

Steve's pout turned into a smile. "Well this is awkward then, isn't it."

"Well I asked you first"

"I think I asked you first" Steve challenged.

"I think you should surrender and just let me do what I have planned." You suggested.

"But I think you should let me do what I have planned. Do you see the issue here?"

"Okay, so what's the compromise?" You asked with a chuckle.

"Let's split the day, 50/50."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Deal, but I get to go first because I'm already dressed."

"That's fair." He agreed, sitting up fully this time. You selfishly took a moment to appreciate his shirtless body, it never failed to captivate you. "What are we doing first?"

"We're going on a run." You smiled wide.

"A run?!? With me?!?" His eyebrows raised.

"I can explain." You started. "I was thinking last night about how you've spent so much time here learning all about what I like to do, but we haven't spent a lot of time doing things that you like to do. So I thought we could go on a run together, then after you can teach me how to paint something. It'll probably just be a brisk walk on the trail for you, and I'll definitely suck at painting but-"

"That's so sweet," Steve smiled unconsciously. His arms wrapped around you and smooshed your body against his. "and so thoughtful"

You laughed as he attacked your face with kisses. "I think I've gotten better at running since you left, so maybe it'll better than last time we went running."

"Even if you got worse and I have to carry you the whole time, I'm still going to have fun." Steve giggled.

"Great, you're very easy to entertain." You smiled.

"What can I say? I enjoy the simple things." Steve agreed.

You eventually got him out of bed and the two of you set off on a redo of the first five mile run along the trail. But this time, all of those lonely mental health runs from your time after the blip came in handy, and chasing after Steve like it was fun game for you as if you were a toddler that needed to be convinced, the five miles was over in no time and the smile never left your faces.

When the five miles was over he gave you a two handed high five way above his head that you had to jump to reach, and in retaliation you jumped onto his back and made him carry you over to the second part of your date which was in the grass field. It was just as beautiful as the picture Steve painted of it for you.

Thick blanket below the two of you, with water colors and paint brushes spewing about, you sat and painted with him for hours. He taught you simple techniques that increased the quality of your art tenfold. Together you painted flowers and plants, then with a timer going, you started two different paintings and swapped them every ten minutes, adding to each others art until the pieces were complete, then lastly two separate paintings that you kept a secret until you revealed them to each other when they were done.

You painted him a picture of the field so he could have his own version of the painting you loved so much, and he painted his absolute favorite art subject, which was you. The entirety of the time you had spent with him today, you swore he never stopped smiling. You wondered if his cheeks hurt, and you vowed to do this with him more often, as often as you possibly could.

One valuable lesson you both learned the hardest way possible throughout knowing each other, was that time was the most precious gift they could have. Though quantity was the goal before Steve was absolved of his crimes, both of your lives have completely changed.

Pretty quickly into his stay back in Greenwood, you both realized the weird leash your unlabeled relationship had was removed and now you were both free to explore the deeper parts of if that you could never reach before. Quantity of time was in abundance, so quality was the new goal.

Steve was very mindful of the lack of label between the two of you. He was also very worried about the new situations at hand. There was distance, actual real commitment, and the lack of an un-promised tomorrow meant that the vulnerability to really get to know each other on a deeper level than before was important to making this work. A small part of him had a huge fear that you wouldn't find all the hard parts of this new dynamic worth it anymore, and that dating him as Captain America would be way harder than the role he played before as your mysterious neighbor.

But he was fully committed to you, and he knew he was willing to move mountains and jump thousands of hurdles to make this work. He was also committed to erasing the doubts Georgia scribbled into his mind.

Steve's thoughts always moved way too fast in every single direction for his heart to keep up with, and you knew that about him. Every situation he thought through had an unrealistically amazing outcome, or his entire world would end up crashing and burning, and there was never a middle ground.

So, at this moment, you'd either end this four weeks loving him so much that he suffocated, or he'd be leaving Greenwood heartbroken and drowning in his own sorrows.

Would you open up to him? Would you never want to be his girlfriend? Would you shut him out when things got hard? Would you risk everything for a life with him like you did for your last ex? Would you tell him what actually happened between the two of you?

But when you were mindful of him and were so sweet as to go on a run and paint with him for hours on end, he couldn't help but to feel hopeful for the future. A future where you were both the priority, and there was a perfect middle ground to his big city avenging and your small town baking. The happy medium where you both lived the lives you always deserved and wanted, but again, you weren't even his girlfriend yet.

When you we're both satisfied with the amount of paintings created and we're creatively fulfilled, everything was packed up and put back into your car and the two of you made it back to Steve's place.

In attempts to wash off the remnants of paint on your arms and the five mile run off your bodies, a steamy shower was shared but not a lot of washing took place and not a lot of water was saved. But, it was still better than any shower you could've possibly taken by yourself, and you were left feeling blissfuly refreshed.

When you got out and dried off, you were brushing some product through your wet hair when Steve came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your stomach and peppered gentle kisses on your neck.

"Are you ready to hand date duties over to me now?" He questioned, also feeling blissful and happy as could be.

Leaning back against him, you set the brush down and held onto his arms, "Sure thing. What should I wear?"

"What you have on is perfect!" He enthused.

You giggled as you gazed at your bodies in the mirror. He was wearing sweatpants with no shirt on, and you were in sweatpants and a black tank top. No makeup, no bra, and your hair was wet and un-styled from the shower.

"Perfect for what? Public indecency?" You smiled.

"Nope." He popped the P. "First order of business is nap time."

"Nap time?!"

"You, pretty girl, woke up at 2 in the morning, worked until 7 am, ran five miles, painted, and I'm pretty sure what we just did in the shower accounted for another five miles. So, we're going to take a nap." He explained to you.

"But that cuts into your date time, that's not fair." You reasoned, but touched he was taking care of you.

"Cuddling is my favorite thing in the whole world, and sleeping is yours. I think this is a win win, and a perfect date activity for us" Steve giggled. "Plus, how are you going to have any energy for more fun if you don't rest for a little bit?"

"You make some very convincing points, Honey."

"Exactly!" He agreed. "Plus it's my turn to call the shots so, get your booty in my bed!"

"I'm not going to say no to that" You put your hands up in surrender.

You guys got in and snuggled up, Steve put on your favorite comfort show, and you made yourself cozy. Head on his chest, hand on his stomach, and one of your legs hiked up onto his hips. He rubbed your back and held onto your arm, leaving an occasional kiss to the top of your head.

Eventually you both fell asleep for a little while, and like two peas in a pod, you both woke up around the same time. So cozy and warm, neither of you wanted to get up and disrupt the tiny sanctuary that was your bodies fully relaxed into each other. But he was hungry so he knew you must've been starving at that point, so way more food than the two of you could manage was ordered and the cuddle fest was relocated to the couch while you ate and watched a movie.

Once he could tell your energy level was back up to normal, the real date could begin.

He grabbed your hands and pulled you up off the couch onto your own two sock covered feet. When he prompted the change of activities, once again you were concerned about your choice in outfit, but he once again reassured you that it was perfect. But it was getting a little chilly out so you both did cover up with some hoodies.

He led you to his garage door and stopped you right before he opened it, grabbing not one, not two, but three rolls of duct tape.

Steve handed one to you, and you were throughly confused. "Duct tape! Is this the part where you tie me up and kill me?"

He barked out a laugh before shaking his head. "No, nothing like that." He stepped aside and motioned for you to open the door.

You could tell he was feeling a little nervous and shy, and every time he showed he was still a bit shy around you made your heart swell. It really was the sweetest feeling knowing he cared so much that the thought of doing something for you made him nervous.

You slowly opened the door and stepped through, a big smile turned into a puppy dog pouted lip. The garage was cleared out of everything but strings of fairy lights neatly hung on the ceiling illuminating the room with a warm glow, his record player and the stand in the corner with all your favorite records that you often listened to together, and the big stack of cardboard he never got rid of.

When you fully made it inside, you looked back at him. His expression was hopeful that you actually understood what he was getting at, but he still wanted to explain.

"I've fully accepted that I won't be needing these boxes to move out of Greenwood anytime soon." He explained. "Do you remember that one night when you came up the driveway and invited me to Georgia's?"

"Of course I do" You nodded, trying not to cry over the fact he had remembered such a small and stupid comment you had made. "I was sad because I thought you looked lonely and Georgia was making me feel lonely by saying I needed to start dating again."

"And you remember what you told me I should do with all the boxes?"

"Yeah" You giggled. "I do"

"For you, my princess, we are going to make the coolest, fanciest, most regal cardboard castle to ever exist."

"You are absolutely unreal." You giggled and shook your head. "This is the cutest, most precious thing anyone has ever done for me."

"That's crazy because this is just a stack of boxes and a few rolls of duct tape." Steve shrugged, downplaying the gesture.

"No it's not." You denied. "You listened to what I said, and you kept all these boxes even though we didn't even know each other that that point. You took a chance, you thought about doing this with me, and you're keeping this place in this tiny town you have no reason to be in. This is not just tape and boxes."

"I always knew we were going to build this castle together." He explained.

You wrapped your arms around him in a big, tight hug and rocked up on your tippy toes to give him a kiss. "Thank you, I love you."

"I love you too." He grinned. "Let's get to building."

Time wasn't even a mere thought in your brains as you went at the castle in the most logical ways you could think of. The requirements were that it had to be tall enough to lay under, and it needed to stand up on its own. It turned out that both of you made a great team, you both had good ideas, and communicated them flawlessly.

When it was done, there was a very well spoken sense of pride, but the work was nowhere near done. The sun had set a long time ago, but the nap really did come in clutch as you filled the castle with blankets and pillows while Steve lit some candles far away from the cardboard, put the needle on the record, and flipped off the main light.

It was just you, Steve, twinkling lights, and the slow and quiet music spinning on the turntable. Your heart was full as the two of you settled into your creation and enjoyed the hard work it took to build it, but Steve was a little anxious over the conversation he knew he wanted to have with you that night.

But like every single time he felt anxious, you made him feel better.

In the cardboard castle, he shared stories about going to space and visiting Wakanda. You told him all about what your life was like when you lived in California. He told you what life used to be like back in the early 1900's when he worked as a paper boy to put himself through art school, and how different it was was when he woke up 66 years later.

For the first time ever, you felt comfortable enough asking him the questions you've always had since learning about him in school. You were cautious with the way you worded each one, and he appreciated your empathy, but he was happy to answer and even happier you were comfortable enough to ask in the first place.

Surprisingly enough, you had questions about his time in the ice. Why he decided to stay in the crashing plane rather than jump ship, if he remembered anything from being frozen, if it felt like he was really unconscious for 66 years or if it felt like no time had passed at all.

Then, he started asking questions about you. Your childhood, what your parents were like, what you did for fun when you lived in the sunshine state.

You told him all about the beach 10 minutes down the road from your childhood home. How the winter and fall was still pretty warm and the rain would only visit for a few weeks out of the year. He learned that California had beaches, mountains and desserts all accessible through a few hours in a car, and how that made for a very nice change of pace on long weekends.

His head filled with visuals of the flower fields you visited every spring, mountains blooming with wildflowers and poppy's if the state had gotten enough rain over the winter, strawberry picking and orange groves. Days at Disneyland, night swims under the moon in heated pools and decompressing from hard shifts at work in hot tubs under the stars.

It all sounded incredible, and it all gave him a better idea of how you were shaped into who you were as an adult.

Two trips were planned together in a two hour long conversation, one in two months for you to visit New York. He wanted you to get a proper tour of the compound this time, and he wanted to show you around the city and where he grew up in Brooklyn. The second one being California, you hadn't been back in years, and he had only been on business. It would be an equal exchange in hometown visits, he was impatiently excited for both occasions.

"Did your Mom ever used to bake?" You asked Steve, is head was in your lap while you sat up with your legs in front of you.

"Yeah, she actually did as often as she could." He reminisced. "But recipes were so different back then. During the Great Depression there wasn't much assess to things like sugar and eggs so people would make all sorts of things with what they had. Oh, and she was a nurse so she didn't really have much time."

"So you're telling me that your mom was single handedly raising you while being a nurse, and still maintaining a household in which she cooked and baked?" You questioned in amazement.

"Yeah, she did a lot." Steve confirmed. "And I was always sick, so it's not like I was the easiest, lowest maintenance kid in the world to take care of."

"She sounds like a superhero." You smiled, playing with his hair. "It must run in the family."

"She was definitely a superhero, no doubt about it." He agreed.

"What was your dad like?"

"I don't know much about him, he died when I was super young" Steve explained. "I know he was an Irish soldier, and he met my mom in the infantry in Ireland during World War I after he took a bullet. I don't think he was very nice to my mom but that was something I kind've gathered myself through context clues, she never wanted to talk about him."

"Can you blame her?"

"Absolutely not." Steve shook his head gently. "What about your parents? What's up with them?"

"Compared to your parents mine sound so boring!" You smiled. "My dad was a cool guy. He was a photographer, and a videographer for a news station for longer than I was alive. That job got him around to cool places and cool people. Everywhere we went there was always someone around who loved my dad for a different reason."

"And he was a good Dad?" Steve asked.

"Oh, the best." You smiled. "He was at every school recital, every graduation, every milestone of my life. We hung out together all the time."

"I know he passed a few years ago, but can I ask what happened?" He questioned more cautiously this time.

Georgia's words were working their way through his mind again, he wondered if you were going to tell him that your mom had been blipped.

"Alzheimer's" You answered. "It was a fast, aggressive type. Some kinds are slow moving, people can last fifteen, twenty years after diagnosis. But my dad was diagnosed, and not even a full year later he was gone."

"I'm very sorry, that must've been hard."

"It was, but I'm glad he didn't have to suffer through it for very long. I think the longer something so degenerative has control over every function of your body, the worse it is to have to live through it." You explained. "I think losing him was a big factor of why I decided to move here. I needed somewhere new, somewhere I could go without being constantly reminded of the lack of my Dad."

"That makes sense"

"Do you feel that way about Brooklyn?"

"Brooklyn looks so different now, it might as well be a whole new place." Steve reasoned. "Very few of the buildings are the same, but the bones are still there and it's just enough to make me feel at home, but not enough to make me feel like the ghost of everything I once knew is lingering around me."

"That actually sounds really nice" You pondered.

"It is" He confirmed. "And what about your Mom?"

"My relationship with my mom has always been a little complicated." You explained. "She was a stay at home mom that didn't really understand healthy boundaries. I think she cared more about me becoming the perfect wife and mom rather than me becoming self sufficient and successful on my own. She couldn't understand why I was focusing on putting myself through business classes and culinary rather than investing more time in my ex boyfriend who also wasn't very happy in my choices. I love her, and we had our good moments, but shes of that old school mindset that a woman's only purpose in life is to serve her husband and pop out children. She wasn't very happy with me for a while when I finally got out of that relationship, and I don't think I ever found it within myself to give her forgiveness for that."

"That does sound very complicated." Steve agreed.

"She uh... she was blipped." You told him cautiously, not wanting him to feel guilty about it. "I'm glad I got to see her when she stopped by on her road trip, but even when she came to the bakery it's not like she thought it was something to be super proud of. She would much rather I be in a miserable relationship with kids than a business owner."

"I'm so sorry." He reached up and took one of your hands.

"Thank you, but it's not your fault. You don't have to be sorry." You reminded him.

Thought no part of him was happy that you lost your mom, he was happy that you shared that with him. It was a step in the right direction, and a direct he was trying his hardest to guide you towards.

He nodded in understanding. "Do you want kids?" He asked realizing he had never asked you that before.

Then, he noticed it. Your posture, facial expression, and mood dropped ever so slightly. It was as if there was an emotional reaction to that question that you had become so good at masking it was now a visceral response. "Of course I do, but I want to have kids with the intention of raising them well with all the love I possibly can, not just because I feel like I have to because I'm a woman."

Steve knew kids were a touchy subject for a lot of women, something as simple yet complex as your own relationship with your Mom could've been the reason you reacted that way. It wasn't something that passed without a second thought in that moment, but he was happy to hear that kids were something you wanted regardless.

"What about you, Stevie?" You asked, playing with his hair one handedly now. "Do you want kids."

"Mhm" He nodded. "I don't know how many though. I feel like that's something I'll just kind've know when it happens."

He looked up at you as you smiled down at him, he was perfectly content and he could tell you were too. "I feel that way too, but I definitely don't want more than three."

"Any more than three seems like cruising for constant chaos" He agreed. "You know those people that pop out like fifteen kids?! I don't know how they do it."

"Now that seems like a nightmare" You giggled. "How could anyone even afford to send that many kids through college?"

"Well I think they start by living in a cardboard castle, it's a really good chance to put some money into savings." Steve pointed out.

"Are you kidding me, Baby? Nothing about our castle is affordable or an opportunity to save money. I think this lovely estate can sell for about 1.5 million." You noted.

"In Greenwood, maybe. But in New York, I'd say at least 4.6 million."

"That's true, real estate is really dense in the city. The market is crowded." You agreed.

"Cost of living is way too high" Steve laughed.

"Okay so, in New York we can have two kids, but in Greenwood we can have three." You reasoned.

His heart skipped a beat at your statement, it took a lot to resist the urge to clutch his chest. Wanting kids was one thing, but already imagining a life in which you had kids with him was another. Now more than ever, he knew you were as committed to him as he was to you. "Smart, good thinking."

There was a slight pause in conversation, but as Steve looked up at you, he could see a question on the tip of your tongue. You opened your mouth to ask it, then chickened out and closed it again.

The hesitation made him smile before reaching up and poking your cheek. "What's up?"

You giggled that he caught onto your lack of bravery. "Have you... thought about what this is going to look like now that we don't have a time constraint?"

"Only every waking moment of every single day." He admitted honestly, making you feel comfortable in your choice to ask the tough questions.

"Have you come to any conclusions in all of that time?" You chuckled at his response.

"Yeah, lots of them." He confirmed.

"Care to share with the class?"

"Well, the biggest and most important conclusion I came to was that our time apart was miserable for me, and it definitely confirmed my suspicions that my life without you in it is no longer a viable option." He spoke, his shy disposition flooding back. "Of course, only if that's okay with you."

A gentle heat bloomed in your chest and crawled up into your cheeks, you had forgotten how it felt to be wanted. "Absolutely, that's more than okay."

"How about you? What have you...concluded?" Steve questioned, sitting up from his comfortable spot in your lap to have a more serious face to face setting.

"Pretty much the same thing. It was really sad not knowing if or when I'd ever see you again. I missed you a lot. But..." You took a moment to find the courage to express your fears.

"No. Don't say but. Buts are scary." Steve shook his head.

You laughed at his reaction and took his hand in yours once more, hoping your touch would relax his fast being heart over the inclusion of the scariest word you could've muttered. "But... I'm worried."

"About what?" He questioned, squeezing your hand for comfort.

"Real life." You stated. "You're Captain America, and as much as I sometimes forget that, I can't be as ignorant as to forget that your due diligence is states away. My business is five minutes down the road. Both of those things are as equally important to us, and I don't know how we can make sure we can still have those things while also keeping us afloat."

As far as buts go, that one wasn't too scary. "You know Hawkeye? He's an Avenger and he lives in Iowa. Ant-Man is in San Francisco, T'challa was in Wakanda, Tony in Los Angeles and New York, Thor isn't even in the same realm as us 90 percent of the time." Steve reassured you.

"But Steve," You shook your head. "Avenging aside, your home is in Brooklyn. Your heart is in Brooklyn. Sure, maybe you don't have to be in New York for your work, but what about for you? Could you ever be happy away from your home?"

"If being a fugitive has taught me anything, it's that I can plant myself anywhere I want and find happiness all around me." He reassured you. "I've put a lot of thought into this too, by the way. I know I can leave the compound, and right now more than ever I think is the best time for me to take a step back from the Avengers. We haven't given up hope that we can get everyone back, but you saw the compound, the energy is... bleak. The one thing I can't leave behind is Nat. We're kind've the only family each other have, so I came up with a solution."

"What's the solution?" You asked, enjoying the way his big hands massaged your smaller ones.

"I'm thinking that I want most of my time to be here with you in Greenwood, because this is where I'm happiest. Then if any of the Avengers need me, I can go to New York for business trips. Maybe once every few months just to check in and make sure Nat isn't losing her mind, and reassess what our plan is on the blip."

"You're sure?" You questioned again. Nothing could've stopped your brain from thinking of the time your packed up everything from the city you once knew to follow a lover here to the small town. Though you didn't regret it because Greenwood was now your home, you did know it was a big choice.

"Positive." Steve grinned. "I can't just abandon this incredible castle we've created together."

"That's true, we worked really hard on this." You agreed.

"As hard as we worked on this stunning estate, I think we've worked even harder on our relationship and it would be an absolute shame to not reap the benefits of our effort."

"I love you, Stevie." This time you squeezed his hands.

"I love you too." He grinned. "Though it feels a little stupid to ask you this now, I was wondering if you'd officially be my girlfriend?"

Though you couldn't contain the smile on your face or the heat from pooling in your cheeks, you still couldn't stop yourself from making a joke. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not quite sure where you got the idea that we're more than just friends?"

His hopeful face fell into a fake pout and furrowed brows. "Maybe it was forty five minutes we spent having s-"

"Ooookkkaaayyyy" You barked out a laugh, blocking out his worlds.

"-in the shower today." He lifted his hand to wag his finger around to further prove his point. "I don't know about you, but I've never done that with just a friend."

"You've never shared a nice, steamy, soapy lather with Bucky? Not even Sam?" You blinked innocently.

Steve fake gagged causing you to laugh even more. "You're crazy!" He shook his head.

"Of course I'll be your girlfriend." You finally agreed, feeling bad for keeping him on his toes. But not bad enough to kill your smile. You got up as much as you could to seal the title with a long kiss, and a big engulfing hug. "But..."

"Again with the buts!?" Steve complained.

"Only if you'll be my boyfriend." You bargained.

"Oh, no. Sorry, I'm definitely just your good pal." He denied.

"Damn." You sighed, letting him go. "Maybe next time"

As you settled back into your spot across from him, he pulled a little velvet jewelry box out of the side pocket of his sweatpants. You had a very small moment of panic as your mind ran four steps ahead of what was really happening, but Steve didn't even need to see your wide eyes before doing some situational control. "I know how this looks, but I promise it's not that." He finally looked up and you puffed out a breath alongside a giggle. "T'challa and his sister, Shuri heard me telling Bucky about you on a call a few times before Thanos came along. They wanted to help me do something nice for you since you were always kind and generous to me, so this is what we came up with."

He handed you the little velvet box, and you opened it carefully. Inside was a dainty gold necklace with a beautifully simple sunflower charm on it. "Awwww it's so beautiful!"

"I know it looks like it's gold, but it's actually made of vibrainum like my shield is so it never breaks. I think Shuri painted it somehow because you usually wear gold jewelry." Steve pointed out. "And if you gently squeeze the sunflower, watch what happens."

Your put the sunflower between your thumb and forefinger, before applying slight pressure to it. Steve stuck out his arm to you, and that's when you noticed. The inside of his watch had a sunflower etched in on the back panel, and whenever you squeezed the charm, it illuminated in a soft golden glow.

"That's incredible" You marveled, feeling so touched and quite frankly, a little unworthy of such a gift.

"I can do it too!" He grinned before pressing a tiny button on the side of his watch, causing a golden glow from your sunflower. "This way when we find ourselves apart, we can send each other a quick little glow to say hi, and you'll know I'm always thinking of you."

"This is so thoughtful, I love it so much." You basically threw yourself at him for another hug.

"I love you so much." He rebutdtaled, holding you close against him.

"Will you help me put it on?"

"Absolutely" He smiled.

You both let go and he looped it around your neck, his big hands struggled with such a tiny clasp but he got it.

"It's so beautiful. Thank you so much, Buddy." You joked since he never confirmed he would be your boyfriend.

"You're welcome, Girlfriend." He giggled, big cheeky smile.

"Pal..."

"Best friend!" He nudged your shoulder.

"Bestie for the restie..."

He laughed once more before kissing you. "Boyfriend."

"...Boyfriend." You kissed him back.

Next Part: Cinnamon Roll

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