#thank you so much for the ask!! this was a good one <3

[sugojosgf]

jealous nanami

highly suggestive + masochism + jealousy

🍓 i might write a second part if you guys want, let me know tho :3

nanami and you have been going out for a few months, and you don't think you've ever been as happy as you are right now. nanami is everything you can ask for, he buys you anything you look at, kisses you like his life depends on it and loves you like you are his religion.

but he also gets so jealous very easily,,,

it's not that he doesn't trust you, not that he thinks you are the kind to stray, he just hates how people look at you, like you are theirs...

it was an office event, and of course nanami invited you as his plus one. making sure he got you the prettiest red dress ever, the way it hugged your body, had him so fucking hard. it was quite modest, the only skin revealed was your legs,,, but anything on you, or nothing on you (doesn't really matter) was enough to make him rock hard in his tailored pants.

"oooh- is this nanami's pretty girlfriend?" a man sauntered up to the both of you, dressed in an expensive white suit to match his hair.

you recognised him, how could you not? this was the very same coworker that nanami would complain to you about during dinner.

"gojo," his voice comes out a little strained, "yes, this is my girlfriend, you might recognise her of course, she interned in our company a while ago,,," kento answers, hand on your waist pulling you closer.

"awww, isn't she absolutely gorgeous, can't believe nanami got his hands on you before me." he giggles, eyes glimmering with a mischievous glint.

"i'm lucky she decided to go out with me,," nanami forces a smile, his grip on your waist becoming tighter.

you gasp and giggle, "nooo,, im the lucky one, kento is so kind to me," you say looking fondly at him.

you continue, "oh and thank you so much gojo! you look really good too,,," you return the compliment.

suddenly someone calls out to nanami, a fellow coworker and he gets whisked away leaving you all alone with gojo. he smiles like a cheshire cat, the gears in his brain working harder. he looks at nanami from where he is, making steady eye contact as he begins to talk to you.

he tells you about how nanami was actually his junior in high school and how he was really into the emo subculture then, recounting stories of young nanami that made you laugh until there were tears in your eyes. he fishes his phone out to show you a picture, teen nanami brooding and scrawny, hair swept to the side.

of course to you, you were just talking to gojo about your shared love for nanami. but to him, the one way out of earshot to understand the context of your giggling, the green fire of jealousy made its way to his heart.

he slowly makes his way over to you, pulling you away from gojo and hands travelling to your hip. you were still laughing, too far gone to notice the expression on his face.

"what's got you so giggly? hm?" he asks, fingers pinching your thigh. it's not really painful , almost like an ant biting. but you are the kind to bruise easily, red blooming the minute his fingers pull apart.

you are immediately pulled out of your laughing fit, eyes blown wide looking up to nanami. it's almost like he had conditioned you, a little touch to your pretty thighs and you were ready to cum in your little thong.

"o-oh! gojo was just showing me pictures..." you mumble, embarrassed by the heated stare nanami was giving you. you felt so small under his gaze. your tongue comes out to wet your lips, to ease the way your throat has dried up.

gojo stands still in front of the both of you, smirking as he sees the tension build. he knew very well what he was doing. rolling his eyes and happy that once again he managed to piss nanami off, he walks away to the bar.

"i think it's high time we go home,, you look needy." nanami rasps out, the hand on your thigh travelling upto your ass and staying there. you nod, words unable to string themselves together.

nanami sighs, eyes darkening and his smile dropping as he guides you towards the exit.

"when we are home, i'm going to teach you to use your words."

#nanamin me 🧈 #got me so soaked 〰⋆｡˚ #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

[rreids]

i saw your requests are open 😺 can i pretty please request something fluffy with spencer and reader just doing one of those thousand piece puzzles together 🧩 ? like maximum level fluff THANK YEW

PUZZLES • S. REID X READER

gn reader; teasing; kisses; spencer is so sweet; reader sulks at how smart he is playfully; established relationship; ~600 words

“Spencer, do you have an edge piece?” You ask, brow furrowed. You chew on your lip as you sort through the stack of blue pieces you have. They’re all similar enough you can’t find their home just yet, even though you’d commandeered the box from his side of the table to try to find what quadrant of the image you were working on.

“Here, honey,” he hands you a blue one with a quick glance to see what you were working with. “Does it finish your corner?”

“Yes,” you murmur, slotting a collection of five pieces to it. Your ego deflates slightly when you see how much he has done. “How come you’re so much further ahead than I am?”

Spencer gives you a small chuckle. “I have an eidetic memory, sweetheart,” he kisses your hand when you reach for more pieces. “And I’ve always been good at puzzles.”

You huff.

Spencer moves over from his side to kiss your frown away. “Baby,” he coos, and you turn to give him a playful cold shoulder. “Light of my life,”

You still don’t answer.

“My love,” it always melts you, and it’s no different this time.

“Spence.”

“I adore you,” he kisses both of your cheeks, and then your nose, and then brushes a kiss over one of your temples — so light it tickles. “Would you rather I let you finish my side?”

You pout at him. “I don’t want pity,”

Spencer hums, fondness and humor written all over his face. “It’s not pity, angel.” He brushes his nose over your cheek before dropping his voice to a whisper in your ear. “I want to see you happy.”

You sigh. “I am happy. But I want to be the smart one for once.”

His brows raise. “You are smart.”

“Smarter than you,” you whine childishly, and he chuckles, warmly and full of humor, tracing shapes over your collarbones and down your shoulders.

“I can’t make that happen for you,” he ducks his head and kisses a small mark on your skin, one he’s always loved. “But I promise I think you are smart and wonderful.”

“And you’ll let me finish more of the puzzle.”

“Oh, I didn’t say that,” Spencer laughs. “Race me.”

You shriek when he takes your pieces and slides them to his side of the coffee table, and you clamber over to him and push his torso to the ground. He exhales quickly, letting out a huff as you pin his torso (with no force behind it) to the rug. Pieces fall with him, and it’ll be awful to pick them up later.

“Cheater!”

“All is fair in love and war.”

You hum and dip down to kiss him, and his thumbs rubs the sliver of skin where your tank top has ridden up above the waistband of your shorts. “Really?”

“Really.”

You hum, a smile overtaking your face. “Well…” and then you tug apart his side of the puzzle and ruin his sorting. “Good luck, babe.”

Spencer whines at the loss of your weight above him and what you’ve done, brow furrowing in concentration as he sits up and attempts to re-sort his pieces.

Normally, puzzles only took the two of you an hour or so, regardless of size, but you’re not playing fair, kissing his face all over until he's red and dazed every time he catches up to you, and hiding pieces behind his coffee mug each time you pull back.

i love puzzles soo much i would do them with him all day we could even do a 5000 piece .. it is meditative for me i once did 3 1000 piece puzzles in a day with minimal help from my mom and brother i hope u enjoy!! hopefully fluffy enough hehe.. of course they finish this one and . of course. spencer will at some point purchase a custom puzzle related to reader and glue it together for display.

#my works #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #requested

[gremlingottoosilly]

i love your content so so so much!! ♡ you write so well and you're overall just and amazing person🩷🩷

can i have könig x a reader with a large chest? It's something I'm very insecure about :3

Thank you!! Konig adores your chest. It's honestly one of his most normal kinks and interests - he likes to play with your boobs, squeeze them, would always try to mark them somehow, either with his teeth or his cum...it's a bit embarrassing, mainly as he would always spread his seed across your skin and watch the glossy surface with such glee in his gaze, even if you don't really like him being so messy with your soft little body...be prepared to him using your boobs as a pillow and your nipples - as a chewing toy. It's hard for him to fall asleep sometimes, so don't be surprised when he pushes your top up in the middle of the night and sucks on your nipples until he can finally fall asleep - it's a very weird kink of his, but if you call him a good boy and pet his hair, he might fall asleep without troubles. Seeing this man relaxing completely on your chest is honestly mesmerizing - especially since he worshipped your body like you were his goddess. You're adorable, he keeps repeating that if you are having second thoughts about your appearance. He knows that nasty comments from other people can really hurt - knows it first-hand, actually - but he wants you to feel good about your body and especially your chest. He is your own scary dog privilege, if some poor fucker decided to stare at your boobs, he would be easily dealt with - not like anyone dares to look in your direction when Konig is around, of course. He takes you out to buy some lingerie and you have to force him out of the fitting room because honestly, how could he think it was appropriate to pinch your nipples while you were trying on a bra!! A horrible horrible and dirty man who has no right to be this adorable as he looks at like like a tiny puppy and asks how many sets you want because you both know he would just rip them off the first night.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #cod x reader

[jjkamochoso]

How do you think jjk men would court their crush? Feel free to add anyone you want but I would love to read about Choso.

OMG SO CUTE!!!! Thanks for the request and I hope you like it <3

JJK Men Courting Their Crush

A/n: okay so for this, I chose to depict most situations as their first time doing a certain courting activity with you so they’re a lil nervous and haven’t made their crush on you explicitly clear🫣 I hope that’s alright and makes sense!! And I can do a part 2 of them doing the same courtship things but with a confession, just lmk if that’s something you guys want🫶 please enjoy below!!

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Yuji: cooking for you

“So, y/n, what do you think?”

Yuji was standing over you as you took a bite of the dish he made. Nervous energy was radiating off of him. He didn’t have much experience in the romance department but knew that usually the quickest way to someone’s heart is through their stomach. He wanted to treat you to some of his favorite dishes as a way to show you that you mean a great deal to him and hopefully get to know you better over a good meal. He had prepped in the school’s kitchen all day after spending hours trying to decide which entrees you’d like the best. He thought back to the times you all went out to eat in the city and what you ordered, then thought about what recipes he knew that were similar. As he was cooking, he hoped you liked what he made enough to where he could eventually do it for you every night.

As soon as it hit your tongue, you felt the warmth of the lovingly cooked food spread through your body. You could tell he spent lots of time on this for you and you were extremely flattered that he would go out of his way to do something like this for you.

“Yuji, it’s absolutely divine. I haven’t had something this yummy in years.”

Yuji put a hand on the back of his neck, sheepish from your compliments.

“I’m really glad you liked it. I have some more recipes that I’ve been meaning to try out and you would be the perfect taste tester if you’re up for doing this often.”

Your eyes lit up. “That would be amazing! But are you sure you wouldn’t mind cooking for me that much?”

“Of course,” he said earnestly, “it’d be tons of fun. Besides, I really like hanging out with you.”

And I really like being the cause of your adorable smile! he wanted to say, but decided to save those words for another time. Chatting and laughing with you was enough for now—maybe he’d cook up enough confidence one day to tell you how he really feels about you.

Megumi: making you playlists

Megumi couldn’t stop fidgeting as he waited for you to meet up with him before class. You had mentioned that you wanted new songs to listen to so when you asked him for recommendations, he took the collecting of songs very seriously. He was never good with his words so maybe you’d get the hint that he had a crush on you from some of the songs he chose. He heard your steps coming down the hall and it was like he forgot how to stand and breathe like a normal human being. He shoved his hands in his pockets and studied a stray rock lying on the ground to look busy.

“Hey Megumi!” you greeted, making him jump slightly. He mumbled out a “hello” and immediately dug into his backpack, a CD emerging from its inky depths.

“Well, I, uh-I didn’t know if you used Spotify or YouTube or something else but I know you mentioned having a CD player so… yeah. Here.”

He thrusted the CD into your hands without meeting your eyes. The plastic case held a disc that said “Y/n’s Playlist” in sharpie.

“Thank you so much!” you said, inspecting it, “I’ll give this a listen after class. I really do appreciate you taking the time to do this for me.”

“It’s nothing,” replied Megumi, running his fingers through his hair.

“Oh wait, I won’t know the song names or artists when I listen to this. Wanna come over later and help me make a track list?”

Megumi felt his face burn up with a blush. “Y-yeah. That, uh, sounds great.”

He’d definitely have to make you more playlists and keep forgetting to include that pertinent information!

Yuta: complimenting you nonstop

“Y/n! I like your shirt!”

“Y/n! Great fighting form!”

“That joke was hilarious, you’re so funny, y/n!”

These were things you were used to hearing when you were around Yuta. He was always showering you with compliments, not that you were complaining. He had a major crush on you and wanted to start letting you know that he saw, appreciated, and admired you without revealing his full feelings for now. You and your classmates were training on the field and Yuta was your sparring partner.

“Wow, you really pinned me down quick! That was amazing,” Yuta said as you extended a hand to help him up.

“You’re always so sweet, thank you,” you replied. “You were really good, though, too! I’m sure you’ll get me next time. You’re super strong.”

Yuta felt his breath hitch in his throat. He was superb at giving compliments but horrible at receiving them.

“Geez, that, umm… it means a-a lot coming from you because you’re so great. Thank you.”

“Please, I’m not that cool! You’re awesome as well,” you told him.

“Yeah, but not as awesome as you!”

It seemed that you two were stuck in a never ending cycle of compliments. After a few more rounds of back and forth, you agreed that you were both cool and strong and whatever other positives you could think of. Yuta left the field in high spirits, thinking of all the creative ways he could tell you how cute you were the next time he saw you.

Inumaki: giving you flowers

Toge stood, clippers in hand, eyeing the flowers in front of him with an intensity rarely seen from the blonde. He was trying to decide on which flowers to cut to make you a bouquet. Taking flowers for personal purposes would normally be extremely frowned upon but he was the plant caretaker and figured he could get away with snipping a few here and there. He thought back to all of your previous conversations, wracking his brain for any moments you might have mentioned a favorite all those times you walked here together. He remembered you’d said you liked them all so he really couldn’t choose wrong. When he made up his mind and clipped his picks, he smiled under his pulled up collar. He walked over to your dorm, an extra pep in his step.

“Toge! Hi!” you greeted kindly as you opened your door. His collar was now pulled down and you felt your heart swell at seeing his cursed marks curled in a happy expression. You were afraid you were about to get pranked when you saw he had his hands behind his back, but your fears were quelled when he presented you with a small bouquet of flowers.

“These are for me?” you asked, surprised.

He shook his head. “Salmon.”

“You’re the best! Thank you!”

You grabbed him into a hug, careful not to crush the flowers. He’d keep bringing you bouquets until either you got the hint that he liked you as more than a friend or he got the courage to write out his feelings.

Noritoshi: writing you letters

It was hard to make friends at the Kyoto school since your classmates were always so on edge about letting people get close, but you and Noritoshi had somehow bypassed that fear and your acquaintance turned into something deeper over the years. Unfortunately for Noritoshi, his feelings now dove even deeper than that, finding himself in the throes of a crush. Unsure of what to do, he’d tried ignoring the nagging feelings in heart every time you spoke to each other, but it never work. After much introspection and consideration, he determined that it would be wise to see if you felt the same. If you did, great. If you didn’t, he’d be released from the constant “what if’s” running through his mind. As he started putting pen to paper, he felt his confidence falter. Who pours their feelings into a letter instead of speaking face to face? Is that cowardly? He changed gears; this letter wouldn’t be of romantic intent, per se, but just of a way to get to know you better and show you he cares about what you think, how you feel, and whatever else he managed to write before his fingers failed him. When he nervously slipped the sealed paper under your dorm door a few days later, he anxiously awaited to see when you would mention it in your face to face conversation with him—you didn’t.

Imagine his surprise when he was greeted with his own letter hours later! You had expressed your delight in his letter and wanted to keep him as a consistent pen pal for the near future. Noritoshi’s hands grasped your letter, fingers tracing your words. With this new open view of each other’s hearts, your private conversations safe from prying ears, he yearned for the day he could tell you the truth of his heart before it was spilled in ink.

Todo: carrying/lifting things for you

Aoi knew you were more than capable of handling things yourself but he wanted to show you that he’d be your perfect, strong protector so he’d always offer to carry whatever you were holding, no matter how big or small. At school? He’d carry your books. Grocery shopping together? He’d lift all the heavy items in and out of the cart. Need to move your car but you’re too lazy to get up? Consider it done—he just picked it up and moved it. He hoped that by continuing to show up for you like this, you’d see how much he really likes you. Of course, he wouldn’t be afraid of speaking to you about his crush on you, but he would rather go out of his way to impress you first before stating his obvious attraction to you.

“Y/n! Let me get that for you!”

Your dorm room door was propped open and Aoi had shown up, seemingly out of nowhere, when you were struggling to move some furniture around in your room. He lifted the couch with ease and shot you an award winning grin and wink.

“Just tell me where you want it.”

You pointed to a spot near the window and he put the couch down gracefully, barely making a sound.

“Anything else I can help with?” he asked eagerly. He’d rearrange the layout of the entire school if you asked him to—anything to make you happy!

Gojo: buying you gifts

Satoru was not the type to outright tell someone he had a crush on them. You know, the whole “love is the greatest curse of all” thing? He’d much rather ignore those feelings in hopes of them disappearing. So when he found himself fawning over you nonstop, he didn’t know the right way to convey his desire to connect with you on a deeper level. He might’ve been running on empty in regard to romantic skills, but his bank account was severely overflowing. He began to take mental notes on everything you looked at and put back while in Tokyo during your shopping trips and visited those places to buy all of it on his own.

“I got this for you.”

Satoru had several bags by their handles that he gently nudged toward you. Confused, you opened them, greeted by multiple items that you had taken notice of but didn’t have the funds to purchase. You didn’t remember Satoru even being there when you were browsing them in the first place.

“Satoru, how did you-”

“I pay attention more than people think,” he shrugged, glad to have his blindfold covering his eyes so you couldn’t see how they softened when they met yours.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you said, trying not to cry tears of happiness.

He chuckled. “I know. You deserve nice things, though. If you can’t treat yourself, then allow me to.”

He was glad he turned infinity off to feel your arms wrap around his in a tight hug. Even if the words evaded him at the moment, he’d be sure to keep showing how much he cares for you by giving you things to remember him by.

Geto: taking you to the farmer’s market

“Come, y/n, I have a fun morning planned for us.”

Suguru had texted you and invited you to the local farmer’s market. You, of course, accepted readily, and now that he was here to pick you up, he was starting to feel a little nervous. Your friendship was a wonderful thing but Suguru craved to get to know you better and see if you shared the same romantic affections he was feeling toward you. He figured that going somewhere low key like a farmer’s market would be great to cultivate easy conversations. As you two walked together, admiring the handiwork of the local artists, you shivered from a cold breeze that kicked up. Suguru was quick to remove his outer layer and drape it over your shoulders.

“Oh, Suguru, I don’t want you to get cold.”

“I’m alright, I promise. I’d rather be a little chilly than see you freeze on my behalf. May I buy you a warm drink as well?”

After that, you were nice and toasty and he glad he could help in any way he could. When the market was closed and you two walked back home, you decided to make a visit here an every week occurrence. Suguru was sure that in a few weeks’ time, he’d prove to you that he’d be a great partner.

Nanami: cooking with you

Kento wasn’t sure how to approach the topic of his romantic feelings toward you. He valued straightforward communication, but he couldn’t find it within himself to outright express his desires for romance right now. Instead, he opted to show you he cared by inviting you over to cook a meal together. He had asked you to pick a recipe and went shopping for all the ingredients. Now that you were finally over at his place, he felt his palms getting sweaty as saw you chopping vegetables, looking extremely cute while doing so. You gave him a sweet smile when you noticed him staring and he quickly looked away, a blush apparent on his cheeks. You dropped the veggies into the hot pan and he started cooking them. You two worked well together, never in each other’s ways and able to partake in conversation while keeping the task at hand. When dinner was ready, you were ecstatic that everything tasted delicious.

“Is it alright if I ask you to join me again sometime soon?” Kento asked.

“I would love nothing more,” you replied sweetly, his stomach now teeming with butterflies.

Choso: stargazing with you

Choso had zero experience with any type of romantic love. He was the expert in familial loyalty, a prime example of being a great big brother, but being a boyfriend? Not his forte. However, his desire to woo you outweighed his nerves so that’s what led him to call you and tell you to meet him outside one night. He read online that looking at the stars is a good way to induce romance and he was determined to prove to you that he’d be a worthy partner. You were taken aback when you saw he had set up blankets on the ground and put out picnic baskets of snacks. He had even wrapped you up in another blanket so you didn’t get cold! Once you were settled, you both chatted about anything and everything as you gazed at the wonders of the night sky.

“Choso! A shooting star, quick, make a wish!”

It was quiet for some time.

“What’d you wish for?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“I’m not supposed to say or else it won’t come true,” you teased, nudging his arm. “What about you?”

He was studying the sky before he looked back at you. “I wished to keep having the privilege of sitting here with you as many days as I can.”

You felt yourself go shy at his confession but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. After that, you had plans in place to meet up again in a few days to do it all over. Choso was hoping that his next wish would also come true—that he’d be confident enough to bring the true feelings of his heart to light.

Toji: inviting you to local music shows

There was nothing better to Toji than a cheap activity, an attractive person by his side, and the promise of alcohol. That’s what led him to extend an invitation to you to join him at a small concert being held by a band you both liked. When you met him outside the run down venue, Toji felt his heart rate pick up as he saw how good you looked. His calm and collected demeanor didn’t change a bit, though, as he lazily threw an arm over your shoulder and walked with you inside.

“This place is super cool, Toji,” you said, taking in your surroundings.

He smirked. “I knew you’d like it. Wanna get something to drink?”

Toji wasn’t known for having tons of money but he liked you enough to pay for the first round of your drinks. As the band finished setting up their equipment and started playing their first song, you had a blast dancing along while he kept stealing glances at you between sips of his drink, relieved that you were having fun. You were able to convince him to dance with you after a few more drinks (not that the drinks affected his decision making—he just couldn’t deny a request from someone as hot as you). As the night wound down and he walked you home, he felt an excitement spark in his heart that he hadn’t known in a long time. He hoped that one day he’d stop being a coward and tell you he really liked you, but for now, he’d be content just holding you in his arms—and definitely keeping an eye out for flyers with information for the next show.

#jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jjk x gender neutral reader #yuji itadori x reader #megumi x reader #yuta x reader #inumaki toge x reader #noritoshi x reader #aoi todo x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #choso x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader

[silverwhittlingknife]

How would you describe Tim's people skills? Especially when you compare them to Dick's?

Hi anon, this was a fun ask!! I picked out a few panels for each of them (comforting friends, a bit out of sync with friends, fighting with friends, and offering practical support to friends) just to get a quick look at their people skills in action, and then I rambled on about my thoughts on their strengths and their weaknesses.

(Caveat: I'm going to try to focus on my ideas about differences between the two of them, since we're comparing, but I do think they're socially more similar than not, so you might also want to check out @bitimdrake's post on Dick and Tim's similarities for the big picture!)

Short version: I think they've both got good people skills. Dick's are a bit better and more natural, whereas Tim's are more practiced and learned (in ways that sometimes show).

Let's start with Dick first, and then I'll get back to Tim.

Dick

Comforting friends in Titans Secret Files:

Dick: Will you go back in there and sit down? This is my house. You don't need to clean up after me! Donna: I know, I just... I just ... Dick: Hey, hey... what's the matter? Donna: Nothing. It's nothing. Dick (reaching out to supportively grip her shoulders): Donna, this is me here, remember?

A bit out of sync with friends (but still getting along well) in Titans 3:

Dick: The movie runs 98 minutes. So if we fast-forward past the coming attractions and watch only half the credits, I can still make it back to Blüdhaven in time to - Roy: Nightwing, chill. Team morale demands that you relax and enjoy yourself.

Fighting with friends in Titans 13:

Dick: We haven't used it much, Changeling. But that's gonna be different. Starting right now. Our performance against Tartarus and the HIVE was unacceptable. Each and every one of you should thank God you weren't killed. Kory: How dare you? How can you just stand there talking to us like we're a military detachment -

Giving support to relative strangers in Nightwing 87:

Neighbor 1: Oh, he - he's a true gentleman, you know? Always holds the door, or helps me up the stairs with my groceries if we both come in at the same time... Neighbor 2: ...used his motorcycle to jumpstart my car one morning and even got my brother-in-law a job with Wayne Enterprises when he got laid off... Neighbor 3: ...and he's very, very, very nice and doesn't talk down to me. Plus he lets me use his basketball.

Offering practical support (making dinner) in Prodigal:

Tim: I can't believe you can actually cook... Dick: I like to eat. Tim: So does Bruce - but he had to order Chinese last night. Dick: That's where I'm one up on him - I've lived on my own without an Alfred. Still miss him, though... He was good for a lot more than cooking and cleaning. Tim: Yeah. But at least we don't have to miss him on empty stomachs.

Strengths:

I think Dick's people skills are pretty simple: he has them! He's good at people! And I tend to think of Dick's people skills as so automatic they're mostly instinctive. It's not something he really has to think about because it's so ingrained in him. A combination of natural talent plus a childhood spent around sociable performers means Dick's just really highly attuned to the people around him.

And I don't think he's particularly obvious about it. So e.g. you could be having a conversation with Dick where he didn't seem like he was paying close attention, but if there was An Important Moment where you got anxious for a moment or let something important slip or let a bit of anger show through etc. - Dick will have picked up on it, even if it's unconsciously, and it'll stick with him and come back to him later.

And just generally - I think Dick has good instincts for who he can trust and who he shouldn't trust; when he's treading on conversational landmines he'll often pick up the unease even if he doesn't have the context to know why there's a problem; if he's trying to comfort and trusts his instincts he'll often do the right thing even if he can't justify in words why he felt like that was the right thing to do.

So I think for Dick, there's always the level of conscious awareness - the things he's aware he knows, if you will - and the level of unconscious awareness - things he senses, but maybe can't explain, or maybe doesn't want to know so he's suppressing the thoughts.

So he's good at leading, and he's good at comforting, and he's good at listening, and he's good at figuring out the right thing to say...

Like, he's good at all of it, so it's actually sort of difficult to elaborate because there's just not that much nuance? Given any particular interpersonal situation, Dick has an excellent chance of getting a quick read on some random guy he's just met and then getting the reaction he wants pretty fast, whether it's intimidating the guy or comforting him or getting him to cooperate or taunting him until he loses his temper, etc etc etc.

Obviously Dick's not a mind reader, and he can get things wrong, especially when he's in the throes of one of his own personal crises, but generally I think Dick's very very sure-footed with people, even with strangers.

Weaknesses:

This isn't a weakness precisely because Dick's usually doing it on purpose, but he'll sometimes have fights with his friends because they think he's acting overly professional/detached and he thinks they're not being professional enough. So e.g. in Titans 13, you can see Dick's set up the room almost like he's leading a business meeting, and he's the boss lecturing them, and they're reacting by getting mad at him. Part of this is basically a Traditional Bat Problem - Tim's friends also balk because they feel like Tim's keeping them at a distance - but Dick tends to lean especially hard on "I'm The Leader Here So Shut Up And Do What I Say" professionalism / distancing.

When things are going well, Dick's friends may grumble at his intense professionalism but basically appreciate it (this is basically how things go in their reunion in TT vol 2); when things are not going well, though, it becomes a point of tension. Generally, Dick gets extra-professional as a coping mechanism when under stress, as here in TT vol 2 12:

To the extent that Dick falters with social skills, it tends to be almost exclusively with people he knows well, not with strangers. Dick sometimes struggles with maintaining relationships, largely because he's often juggling multiple responsibilities; he'll sometimes get hyperfixated on something and deprioritize his more stable relationships (so e.g. when he gets fixated on trying to fix Blüdhaven and gets distracted from his relationship with Babs).

Somewhat relatedly, if things start going wrong in his own life, he tends to self-isolate out of shame and avoid everyone he thinks of as more put-together. So, for example, in the aftermath of Blockbuster, he's a self-destructive mess who's trying to dodge and/or drive away Clark and Roy and Tim (all people who care about him and would want to help), but Sophia Tevis and Rose are two messed-up young strangers in trouble and their obvious neediness trips his "urgency" meter, plus he may be a mess but they have no context to realize that so he doesn't feel so self-conscious, and he's able to be drive-by super-helpful to them and then dive right back into privately self-destructing.

Also not a weakness per se, but he tends to be a bit of an introvert in general - he and Wally are close, but they go long stretches of time without catching up; when he's spending time with friends, usually it's Donna / Wally / the Titans / Tim visiting Dick rather than the other way around; he's more likely to get cajoled into joining a team than the other way round - Wally talks him into rejoining the Titans and Roy talks him into joining the Outsiders. He likes people and likes spending time with friends, but he's usually not the one initiating a social gathering. He's self-aware about this; in Titans 9, he muses, "It's not the newness that's the problem. The problem is the old stuff. The ruts. You know someone long enough - well enough - and you fall into a rut with them... you completely take the relationship for granted..."

Relatedly, because Dick's pretty self-contained, he has a recurring problem where loved ones interpret him as distant or detached or indifferent even when he's still passionately attached - both Kory and Babs break up with Dick in part because they feel like he's not really that committed to them (also there are mmm Problematic Plotlines involved but I'm ignoring those for the purposes of this post), and in both cases IMO they're misreading him. He's deeply upset by both breakups and responds with big declarations of feeling and, uh, proposing marriage shortly afterward. (Okay, so he's not ALWAYS sure-footed sdfdsfs)

When Dick's getting something wrong, it's usually because he's upset and overcompensating - when things with Kory and Babs are tense, he tries to fix it with Big Gestures; when Vic's mad at him about spying, he missteps with an elaborate secret plan culminating in a big dramatic offering of a new body which Vic does want... but he's still understandably miffed at Dick for making a bunch of decisions behind his back instead of talking to him. Dick guesses right about something Vic will want, but because Dick when he's feeling guilty tends to slide into I-Am-The-Leader, I-Must-Fix-Everything-By-Myself, I-Am-Responsible-For-Everything mode, he forgets that the whole original problem is connected to not respecting Vic's autonomy / right to make decisions for himself, and that a better gesture would be asking Vic what he wants instead of once again making decisions on his behalf without consulting him. (I'm sympathetic to Dick's spying-on-Vic plan on account of how Vic did turn into an evil moon for a bit - comics are bonkers, you guys sdfdsfs - but I'm also very sympathetic to Vic feeling that he deserved fuller disclosure here.)

And you can see similar patterns in lower-key conflicts too: every time Dick gets accused of being just like Batman, it's usually because he's coming off as harsh or detached or uncaring (sometimes on purpose because he's pushing people away; sometimes just because Dick handles grief and fear by shutting down; sometimes because his the-buck-stops-here leadership style can come off as overly-detached), even though Dick actually cares SO SO MUCH, all the time, about everyone he knows.

But honestly... these weaknesses exist, but they're minor in comparison to his strengths?? Dick's a guy with a lot of very strong friendships for a reason. He's true as steel and once he cares about you, he cares about you forever. <3

OKAY! So that's Dick. Let's finally move on to...

Tim

Comforting friends in Joker's Last Laugh 3:

Tim: Babs? Is everything okay? (hugs her)

A bit out-of-sync with friends (but still getting along well) in Young Justice 7:

Cassie: A campout isn't a campout without a real fire. It's no fun at all. Tim: But the generator is far more efficient, Cassie. It's non-polluting, it poses no threat of forest fire, and it's... it's ... (taking in everybody else's expressions, sighing, reversing course) It's no fun at all. Impulse, can you...?

Fighting with friends in Adventure Comics 3 (stonewalling, avoidance, and lying!)

Conner: You weren't picking up. Tim: I didn't know it was you. Conner: I turned off my caller ID blocking. Tim: I was busy. I am busy. Conner: Too busy to talk to your best friend? Tim: Yes. No.

Giving emotional support to relative strangers in Robin 98 / 100 / 156:

Wesley: I just wanted to thank you. They tell us at the meetings that it's important to let people know how you feel. You did a lot for me - making me sober up. If you hadn't taken the time to notice - (Later) Tim: You're gonna stay strong, right? (Wesley: Right.) Tim: You're gonna stay sober, okay? (Wesley: Okay.) Tim: You're gonna do it 'cause - Wesley: 'Cause if I don't you'll come back and kick my butt all over campus. Tim: Uh huh.

(The redhaired guy was about to jump. Tim convinces him to sit down and talk first.) Tim: So, you're in college? Guy: Yeah, I'm a freshman. How'd you know? Tim: Just a hunch. I'm guessing you don't like it much. Guy: I always hated high school. Always felt like I was outside looking in, never part of any group or anything. I was on the diving team but even then I didn't feel like part of it. The only good thing was that was where I met Lori, my girlfriend.

Offering practical support (medical care and tea) in Batgirl 59:

Tim (treating her injury as she shares her traumatic past): Whoa. That's ... horrible. Cass: That's nothing. Stephanie and I used to laugh about - oh... uh... never mind. Wait, Tim. I... I'm so ... stupid, I don't - Tim: You're not stupid. Want some tea? Cass: I ... uh... yeah. Thank you.

Strengths:

Tim! I think Tim's also pretty decent at people - not as good as Dick, but hardly anyone is?

I tend to think of Dick as instinctively good at people, and Tim as more consciously good at people.

Tim spends a lot of time being intentionally watchful: observing, spying, psychoanalyzing people, paying careful attention to what they say, thinking about what makes them tick. (And Tim psychoanalyzes himself, too. Tim is studiously engaged in the study of Tim, and of Tim's friends, and of Tim's family. He's often playing a role, even when that role is "Tim Drake.")

So e.g. in Red Robin, at one point Tim has an elaborate domino-falling database where he's compiled a list of villains he wants to fight and how he wants to fight them, all leading up to a very careful takedown plan for Boomerang where he's thought through and anticipated Boomerang's every move ahead of time... and he's basically right! He gets it all right!

And this kind of intensely-studied logical chess-game of "he will do this for this reason, and then this for that reason, and the other people will respond in this way, like a series of dominos, and I've thought through all the possibilities" is Very Tim to me, and I feel like... this is just the sort of thing that Dick would never ever do?

And mostly Dick wouldn't do it because he wouldn't have to. When Dick's skeptical of James Gordon Jr., he goes to talk to the guy and feel him out, and he ethically feels obliged to give him the benefit of the doubt because there's no evidence against him, but he's got a bad feeling and doesn't trust him and secretly slaps a tracer on him because he's got an instinct he'll want it, and he's right: James Jr. is up to something, and that tracer is exactly the thing that Dick needs.

And similarly if Dick wanted to goad James Jr. into doing something, I think he'd go off and meet him and goad him into doing it, and he'd have an instinct for what to say to make that happen - I think the whole elaborate domino plan that Tim comes up with for Boomerang would feel unnecessarily complex to Dick. Not that Dick doesn't make complicated plans, because he absolutely does, but Dick doesn't usually overthink people.

Similarly, if Dick had been the little kid in Lonely Place of Dying, he'd have gotten worried and gone straight to Bruce and talked to him, not gotten worried and taken photos of Bruce from a distance and then come up with an elaborately overthought plan to go to New York and track down his estranged son and fix him that way. And, like. Kid!Tim's not entirely wrong! He's correctly picked up on a very real and very strong connection between Bruce and Dick even though he doesn't know either of them! And given how little actual information Tim has, this is actually an impressive plan (it's a bad plan, because Tim doesn't know about their fights, but it's an impressively solid plan given that his entire information basis is "watched them from a distance and collected news reports"). But this isn't how Dick thinks about people.

Backing up to a more general point: Tim values people skills really really really highly. I think "uses interpersonal skills to help and comfort other people" is one of Tim's highest values and arguably the highest value - he imprinted on Dick because he was kind, and then imprinted on Batman because he was comforting Dick. And he has six million After-School-Special-style plotlines where he tries to comfort / advise / rescue / etc. people in various stages of emotional distress and who are using bad coping mechanisms. His very first outing as Robin involves talking down a semi-suicidal shooter; the big finale of YJ has Tim talking Secret down from her rampage; he's very gentle when he's comforting his girlfriend after she confides in him about a maybe-attempted-rape; he talks down a suicidal college student in Robin; plus there's the entire concept of "Batman needs Robin" in the first place; not to mention his obsession with the importance of friends; and so forth.

So it's something that he's good at because it's something he values and works at. His people skills are conscious and learned. He does a fair bit of amateur psychoanalysis of other people's problems, and he's generally good at identifying the problems, even if he's not always great at fixing them. And he's often playing a role, or imitating other people, rather than being himself; he invests a lot of time constructing alternate identities; he's often more comfortable wearing a mask. (It is just so typical of Tim that his civilian friendship group is the DCU version of D&D players.)

So his practiced-people-skills work decently well, because he's diligent and he cares a lot, and he's better at people when he's older than when he's younger. And he's extremely good at things he's had a lot of practice with, like meeting new schoolmates, or making small talk, and he's friendly and he likes people, and he's good at learning scripts and following them, and he only tends to misstep when he's distracted or unusually anxious or when he's in a situation where normal social norms don't help. (Of course, since he's a vigilante and not an ordinary person, distracted / unusually anxious / weird situation are all things that happen more often than you might think!)

I also think Tim has a few caretaker instincts that have become automatic - generally he's hyperaware of when people are upset and usually tries to reach out or fix it, and even when he's trying to keep himself at a distance he'll slide into caretaking sometimes - so e.g. there's that moment in Batgirl with Cass when Tim's kinda upset with her for siding with Batman (and distancing himself from other people in general), so he's not intending to get close to her, but also what we see him doing is treating her wounds and then getting her tea. And meanwhile Cass actually wants to reach out, and she's intensely observing him and worrying and wanting to help, but what she actually does is... drink the tea. That Tim got her. While she stays firmly on her side of the couch.

(I tend to think of Cass as slightly similar to Tim but at the very very very beginning of her learn-to-people journey here? Like Tim, she cares!! A lot!! And she's successfully understood that Tim's upset, and she knows when she's put her foot in her mouth. But she's not sure what to do yet.)

Weaknesses:

Tactless! This is a tricky word because I think people sometimes hear 'tactless' and misunderstand it as 'generically rude,' but that's not quite the issue - Tim's quite polite most of the time; his problem is that his default mental monologue is very detached / psychoanalyzing / analytical, including about himself and things he's emotional about. He'll often be analyzing his own emotions even in the process of having them (I also talk about this a little here, though it's mostly a post about Dick and anger), and Tim's also constantly analyzing other people.

This means that if he doesn't edit his brain-to-mouth filter, he can come off as too detached or professional or calculating.

This is obviously similar to Dick's problem of coming off as too detached / professional - again, they're both Bats - but it's not quite the same thing, and I think this distinction is most obvious if you look at the places where they're doing it on purpose and picking fights:

Dick's most likely to pick fights by pulling rank: "I'm the boss, you all fucked up this mission and you better not do it again, shape up or shut up." This is a kind of distancing that's about Dick-the-impassive-boss and you-the-subordinate.

By contrast, Tim's more likely to pick fights via hostile psychoanalysis: "I notice you're being snide about Cass again, but we both know you're actually just mad that Bruce cares about her more than he cares about you." When he's miffed, both his inner monologue and the things he says tend toward 'uncharitable analysis of your emotional weaknesses,' and this is something he periodically directs at Bruce / Jason / Damian. This is a kind of distancing that's about Tim-the-hostile-analyst and you-the-unfortunate-target-of-analysis.

(Caveats: I don't think Tim's above trying to pull rank if he can, but he rarely has the opportunity; Dick's not above jabs at other people's weaknesses when he's very defensive and feeling attacked - junkie, elevator - but IMO he's more likely to pull rank, whereas Tim's jabs are more likely to be wrapped up in insulting psychoanalysis, so e.g. Jason's insecurity is his problem. The Jan Brady of the Batfamily.)

You can see related similar-sounding-but-different issues if you look at some of their respective breakups. So e.g. Dick has a breakup with Babs in which she thinks he doesn't care about her, and Tim has a breakup with Cassie in which she thinks he doesn't care about her. And these breakups are different for six million reasons (among other things, Dick and Babs have a pretty intense romance, whereas, uh, Tim and Cassie have had one date and IMO she's very right that they're better off as friends).

But you also get some useful character notes:

Babs is wrongly anxious that Dick's mostly in love with nostalgia for their past rather than the person she is now (he 100% does love the person she is now!) and she's being unfairly bitchy about Catalina, but she's also correctly noted that he's gotten into the habit of deprioritizing their relationship in favor of vigilante busywork & that he's been a bit pushy in swooping in protectively rather than letting her fight her own battles, so when she's accusing him of being a control freak it's not completely coming from thin air; Dick responds by getting hurt, upset, and direct (he gets furious and punches something, but then makes a big sweet sincere emotional speech to her about how much he cares and values her, albeit one that's so caught up in his own emotions like wanting to "protect" her that he's not slowing down enough to take in her insecurities).

Cassie has correctly realized that dating Tim is a bad coping mechanism and she really needs to just deal with her grief over Conner; when she starts crying, at first Tim moves to comfort her, but when she actually clarifies the breakup, an upset Tim responds by aggressively de-emotionalizing the conversation and pretending he's being totally logical and not emotional about it - he first wonders aloud if he's a bad detective for not seeing it coming and then attempts a bonkers guilt-trip suggestion that it's their duty to date in order to uhhh avoid turning evil in the bad future (sdfsfdsfdsfds sure tim nice try)

This isn't because Tim literally doesn't have feelings, because of course he does! But often, the more upset he is, the worse he gets at clearly expressing those feelings, and the more he intellectualizes them or avoids discussing them.

(Caveat: The trouble with any distinction is that it's easy to exaggerate it in ways that are oversimplified, and I want to emphasize that this doesn't reduce to "Dick always expresses emotions, Tim is never emotional," or anything like that. Dick has a bunch of complicated feelings about the intensity of his emotions because he values control and detachment and often is trying to be more detached (I talk more about this in the context of anger here and here); Tim often retreats to faux-analytical detachment when he's actually very emotional; and these are tendencies rather than one-note 24/7 truths - Dick is completely capable of intellectualizing away his emotions; Tim is completely capable of just getting straightforwardly and directly upset. But if you're looking for broad distinctions, I think it's fair to say that Dick's usually better at directly using his words and expressing his emotions, even if he sometimes feels self-conscious shame about it later, whereas Tim tends to self-sabotage and deflect and hide by producing intellectualized faux-logic instead of just being direct about what he wants or what he's feeling.)

An unrelated issue is that Tim also tends to get intrusive when he's anxious, and it gets worse the more he cares about you. Tim really really really wants to know what's going on and has an intense Need To Help, which generally works out for him - this is the entire reason he pushes his way into the Batfamily! - but it's easy to imagine Tim running into people who might not appreciate his busybody sneakiness; so e.g. secretly stalking your friend because he has a bruise, or running your friend's DNA, etc., is... stuff that all comes from how much Tim cares, but also it involves a very fuzzy relationship with other people's privacy, so Tim's friendships that stick around tend to be with people who find this kind of intense observation to be caring rather than pushy. Relatedly, Tim's version of "be protective" can overlap with "be condescending," which means he tends to get along best with confident people like Bruce, who could punt him into a wall and who thus finds Tim's 'disapproving medic' shtick endearing instead of insulting.

Tim also struggles to connect to people for whom he doesn't have an obvious "script" or who don't respond to his usual scripts. So e.g. offering Gar a "you don't like me but let's be friends" handshake worked; offering Cass a "let's be friends" handshake worked; offering the same thing to Damian did not go over so well; and I think this kind of "it usually works so this is my habit now?" thing is very Tim, and I don't think it's the sort of mistake that Dick would make.

More broadly, because Tim's people skills are conscious and learned - the effort sometimes shows! He stares at people. He secretly spies on them. He pokes around in their secrets. Dick can be paying close attention to you and seem like he's not, so that his awareness seems effortless and less intrusive. I think Tim's awareness tends to be a bit more effortful.

That said, though, I don't think that Tim's intensely-observing-you shtick is necessarily obvious except to people who are fairly socially-skilled themselves. When I write fanfic, I generally write from Dick's POV, and I tend to write Dick being hyperaware of when, say, Tim's observing him, or trying to figure out what's going on with him. But I think of that as more "Dick's good at reading Tim and really aware of being watched, so every attempt at subtlety stands out in neon lighting," and I think to someone who's less good at reading people than Dick is, Tim is a lot subtler.

And I think for e.g. someone like Cass, who really struggles with people skills, Tim seems impossibly and naturally good at interactions in the same way that to Tim, Dick seems incredibly good at it.

#ask tag #dick grayson #tim drake #hi anon this is SO OLD i'm so sorry sdfdsfds #i am very slow & this is very long because i kept adding things to it but this was a very fun ask thank you <3

[dfortrafalgar]

Hi, saw that your request were open so I was thinking on asking you for Law X fem reader where law has a crush on reader and starts hanging out and sees that one of reader’s guy friends is being way too touchy and starts touching her butt, he is also being mean to her and at one point even hits her in the head.

How would he react, I was thinking of a fluff ending.

thank you so much for your request anon!!! i really loved this one, it was super fun to write! it was definitely a bit of a struggle though, as much as i enjoy writing heavier topics, physical abuse is tricky for me to deal with, but i hope the fluff at the end delivered some resolutions <3

also, i actually really really like Bellamy as a character. i think he's super cool, but i couldnt think of anyone else who could really fit in the role he's playing in this fic LOL

Rectify

Law x Fem Reader

Law’s feelings for you are forced to clash with a loathsome person in your life.

Warnings: descriptions of brief physical abuse, implications of past abuse, very mild suggestive language, modern setting, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending

By the time Law realized his crush on you had surpassed its normal, healthy limit, it was far too late for him.  It certainly didn’t help to see you sitting next to Bellamy, tossing joking remarks back and forth.  All of you were in the same friend group, so it was truly impossible to avoid your interactions with the much larger, stronger, arguably more handsome man.  And the thought began to make Law’s blood boil.

Because Bellamy was everything Law wasn’t.

You and Law had been friends since childhood, growing up in the same neighborhood and running with the same crowd.  You were familiar with his best friends and his dad, just as Law was familiar with your closest peers.  Law liked to think that, as the years went on, the two of you grew closer and closer.  You were always far nicer to Law during his awkward teenage years, and there were a few times where the raven-haired boy grew hopeful that you might one day return his budding feelings for you, but that day never came.  And then you started college… and then you met Bellamy.

On the contrary to the black-haired medical student, the blonde was known around the entire campus as ‘The Hyena,’ and for good reason.  He was ruthless in every sport he played, a malicious, sadistic grin constantly pulling at his thin lips striking fear into the hearts of his opponents.  He was strong, freakishly so, with muscles that could rival that of an Olympic weightlifter.  His blonde hair was a hit with the ladies, and partnered with his darker skin tone and his assortment of badass tattoos, it seemed like a no brainer that women would be falling all over him.

Law just internally hated that one of those women seemed to be you.

Despite you having confirmed on multiple occasions that you and Bellamy were simply friends that you met in one of your classes, and that you truly had no interest in men like him, Law couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his chest.

Bellamy certainly seemed to like you.  A lot.

Law watched from across the room, a plastic cup still completely full of an unidentified cocktail in his tattooed hand and the large group of friends you shared laughing and chattering around you in the living room of the house party, as one of Bellamy’s large, strong hands began to circle around your waist, gripping the soft flesh of your ass through your pants.  The sensation made you jump, trying to scurry away from him with a nervous smile on your soft lips as you awkwardly laughed at the feeling, but Bellamy tried to pull you in closer.  The couch cushions sunk under his weight, creating a deep divot that made it hard to stand up.

You lightly shoved Bellamy’s chest, mumbling something about standing to get another drink, before you were finally able to haul yourself up from the warm sofa and make your way toward the kitchen in the back of the house.  Law stood from his metal folding chair, abandoning his cup on a random end table.  He followed you diligently into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he muttered.

“Oh, hey, Law!” you returned his greeting, mild surprise filling your eyes.  “I didn’t hear you behind me!”

The man shrugged, leaning against the counter.  You awkwardly fiddled with a glass bottle of beer, using the edge of the counter to pop open the metal cap.  Law eyed you suspiciously.

“You don’t drink beer,” he stated, watching as you simply held the chilled bottle in your hands without making a move to drink it.

You smiled in response, but the gesture didn’t reach your eyes like it normally did.  “I know… I just needed to get some air away from the living room for a little bit.”

Law couldn’t hold back the question fighting on his tongue.  “Is Bellamy bothering you?”

Pointed stares were shared between the two of you before you finally, lightly, shook your head.  “No.”

“Are you sure?”  Something told him you were lying to his face.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you groaned.  “Law… I know you don’t like him… but he’s really not that bad.”

“You didn’t seem to like it when he touched your ass,” the med student grumbled.

“Law, I don’t want to fight,” you retorted, firmly.  “I don’t like it when Bellamy touches me, anywhere.  I know he’s into me but I’m not into him, but I don’t want to cause a scene at a party I was graciously invited to.”

You had a point.  Liquor was running as free as tap water within the stale, stuffy walls of the house, and saying or doing something that could potentially cause a fight wouldn’t be ideal.  Especially since the police had already been called multiple times to a house just a few steps down the sidewalk from this one.

Law wished he could open his mouth and just tell you, tell you everything that had been on his mind, how he realized just recently (and yet somehow far too late for his liking) that he’s madly in love with you, how he doesn’t want to see you be treated poorly by someone who you call a friend, how he wished so desperately that you would see him in the same way, how he longed for your touch.  But instead, he stayed silent, watching as you anxiously eyed the brown glass of the untouched beer bottle you still gripped in your hand, as if the bottle was the only thing keeping you glued to reality.

“I’m fine, Law,” you blurted.  He hadn’t said anything more.  With your eyes cast down to the floor, you left your beer bottle sitting open on the countertop before retreating back into the thick of the party.

The raven-haired student waited a few moments before returning as well, his metal folding chair unfortunately having been taken by two sweaty economics students locked in a very passionate, very inappropriate, makeout session.  He pushed his way through the mingling crowd back toward the couch where he spotted you perched on the arm of the sofa this time, Bellamy practically flush against your body on the end cushion, his palm on your ass, fingers squeezing intermittently.  The blonde was locked in an intense conversation with the man in front of him, and the look on your face screamed uncomfortable.  Law felt his stomach flip over.  Your eyes caught him again, and you frowned.  A frown so deep that it left shadows under the creases of your lips.  You looked… aged.  Stressed.  Afraid.

But Law kept his distance.

You didn’t want a scene to break out.  You could handle yourself on your own.

Bellamy’s hand trailed from your ass down your thigh, your skin still protected by the rough denim of your jeans, but that didn’t stop his fingers from crawling around the front of your body and dipping between your thighs.  The feeling of his intense hand trying to pull you apart in front of another man, without your consent, made you visibly tense up and pull away from him.  Your motions finally made the blonde’s attention snap to you, his dark eyes narrowing and somehow becoming even more villainous.

“Don’t run off,” he snapped.  “You’re sitting right here with me, all pretty like that.”

You steeled yourself.  “Then I don’t want you touching me like that.  We’re not an item, Bellamy.”

“I don’t care,” he huffed back.  “I’ll touch you however I want.”

The music of the party, the chattering voices slurred with alcohol, faded completely around Law as he watched the argument unfold before his eyes.  The only sounds entering his ear drums were the disgusting words leaving Bellamy’s mouth, the demands, the insults.  The dim lights of the living room did very little to hide the way your face contorted in discomfort, trying to pull away from the blonde athlete even more.

“Bellamy, I said no,” you snapped.  

No one seemed to be paying any attention to what was happening, all eyes everywhere but where they should have been.  When you were being closed in on by a man much larger than you, no one was looking.  You were alone.

And Law was somehow so far away.

“I don’t remember ever needing to listen to you,” the hyena chortled, his voice gravelly and nasally.  “You should be lucky that you have a guy like me who’s into you.  You’ll never be able to do better than me.”

You opened your mouth once more to shout a retort, but you were cut short.  Bellamy’s clenched fist connected with your lower jaw, swiftly knocking you to the ground in a stunned shock.  You fell like a lead brick, hitting the ground with a force that Law somehow felt through the soles of his shoes, rattling his bones and making his head spin.  Your hands blindly scraped against the floor searching for your bearings, completely disoriented from the blow that had just met your bone.  You brought one of your hands to your mouth, cupping your palm over your lips as your eyes closed, trying to block out every overwhelming color and sound filling your brain with a nuclear buzz.

And yet.  No one.  Noticed.

Law cleared the floor in an instant, just as Bellamy was yelling something about your worth being determined by your partnership with him.  The fist inked with DEATH clocked the blonde in the temple, the short, stubbly blonde hairs leaving phantom singing pain on Law’s fingers.  The hyena stumbled backward, catching himself on the arm of the sofa you were previously sitting on.

For a brief moment, the med student was gloatingly proud of himself.  His father was a retired marine after all.  Law knew a thing or two about a good punch.  His thoughts were quickly retired, however, as he crossed the crowded floor to your side, quickly helping you to your feet and pushing through the crowd with you hunched over in his arms, tripping over your heels as he rapidly escorted you to the door.

Don’t cause a scene.

Bellamy didn’t follow, and Law counted his blessings.  “Hey, your apartment’s on this street, right?”

With a hand still cupped over your mouth, you nodded.  Your eyes were barely keeping themselves open, what was visible of your face contorted in a muted agony.

If Law was any less collected, he would’ve stomped that hyena’s face in with the heel of his boot.

The two of you were barely getting anywhere with your afflicted state.  Law scooped you into his embrace, your legs wrapping around his hips and free hand clenching the soft fabric of his shirt as he carried you back to your apartment with one of his arms carefully supporting your rump.  Thank goodness you lived so close, in a converted townhouse on the corner of the same street.  Law still lived in on-campus housing across town, which was less than ideal for his tastes.  He helped you fish your key from the pocket of your pants, keeping you in his grasp while he pushed the door open and entered the narrow entryway of your home.  Your roommate was gone for the week visiting family on the other side of the country, so your place was completely dark and quiet.

Law flipped the light switch on just in time to watch you scurry to the first floor bathroom as soon as your feet touched the hard wooden floor, leaving the door open as the light in the smaller space flicked on as well.  He quickly followed, standing in the doorway as you finally pulled your hand away from your mouth.

A few droplets of blood were dotting your palm, but when you opened your mouth, a worryingly large glob of bright crimson exited past your lips and splattered in the white porcelain of the sink.  Law’s stomach lurched as he watched you try in vain to spit out the metallic liquid, your entire face scrunching up as the nauseating sensation and taste.  Your shoulders shuddered with the feeling of your gag reflex bobbing in the back of your throat, forcing your stomach to hold its contents as you released drops of bright red into the white porcelain of the wash basin.

The med student’s first thought was that one or more of your teeth had been knocked loose or even came out permanently, but nothing solid landed in the sink.  As you began to calm down from your spitting into the basin, your eyes began to well with overwhelmed tears.  You gazed at Law in the mirror, his golden eyes locked on yours as a small dribble of blood and spit slid down the skin of your chin.

Wordlessly, your friend stepped into the bathroom with you, grabbing a wad of toilet paper and wetting it with warm water from the tap, wiping away the bloody drool that left your lips.

“I know it hurts, but I need you to open for me,” he muttered, gently holding your cheek in his hand as the other one balled up the toilet paper and discarded it into the open toilet bowl.

When you opened, Law reached into the back pocket of his speckled jeans and procured his phone, clicking on the flashlight without looking at his screen.  He shined the light into your mouth and, to his relief, didn’t see any chipped, broken, or missing teeth.  He did, however, see a substantial gash on the side of your tongue.  You must have clamped down hard on the muscle with your teeth thanks to the force of the punch.  The thought made a silent rage build in Law’s gut.  He turned you around and closed the toilet lid, sitting you down and proceeding to rummage through your medicine cabinet.  

He handed you two pieces of gauze wrap from below your sink.  “I need you to hold these against the cut on your tongue, okay?  Don’t remove them until I say so.”

You diligently followed his orders, taking the dry cloth from him and inserting it painfully into your mouth to rest on the stinging wound that cut your muscle.  You watched as he continued to rummage through your supplies, pushing aside boxes of tampons and toilet cleaning chemicals and finally finding what he was hoping he would see- a brown plastic bottle.  He stood from his crouching position, the bottle in his firm grasp.  He spun the item around to gaze at its expiration date and hummed approvingly under his breath.  He quickly exited the bathroom, leaving you alone for a few fleeting moments.

While he was gone, you were able to take a better look at your face.  While one of your cheeks was puffed up slightly with the clump of gauze against your tongue, you could still make out the swelling of your skin on the same side.  A large, black and blue bruise was quickly blooming along your jaw and up your cheek, your fractured capillaries leaking into your epidermis.

Law finally returned, a very small cup in his right hand and a bottle of diluted bleach in his left from the kitchen.  You watched as he poured a small amount of clear liquid from the brown bottle into the small cup before running the sink tap and filling it the rest of the way with plain water.  He handed the cup to you with no instructions before lightly spritzing the porcelain basin with the diluted chemical, running the tap once more and washing your blood away, making sure to scrub the entire bowl.  He finally turned around to face you.

“I need you to swish that in your mouth for a few seconds, and then spit it out in the sink,” he directed.  “It might taste kind of bitter.”

You carefully pulled the gauze out of your mouth, wincing as some of the light fibers pulled against your wounded muscle, but followed his directions and tossed the contents of the small cup back into your mouth, swishing with your cheeks puffed, trying to focus the liquid onto your wound.  Just as Law warned, the taste was bitter, vaguely salty, but definitely not pleasant.  Law finally stepped aside from the sink after a long 30 seconds and let you spit.  Both the gauze and the clear solution you rinsed your mouth with were lacking blood, meaning your wound was already on the clotting and healing path.

After sputtering for a few moments, the faint smell of diluted bleach filling your nose from the sink, you placed the cup down on the counter and gazed at Law, who watched you with a keen eye.  “What was that?”

“Hydrogen peroxide and water,” he uttered.  “To disinfect your tongue.  Luckily, peoples’ mouths tend to heal much faster than other body parts, so after a day or two of discomfort, you should be back to normal.”

Cleaned and disinfected, you finally started to let your mind sink on the gravity of the situation, your heart rate increasing and your eyes once again growing heavy and blurry with impending tears.  You watched as Law, avoiding your gaze with a deep frown on his lips, grabbed your rinse cup from the counter and turned to head back to your kitchen.  You quickly grabbed the fabric of his shirt sleeve to stop him in his tracks, the fuzziness of your vision causing the colors of his form in front of you to waver and warp, but that didn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around his lean torso in a hug, the warm wetness from your eyes soaking the cotton of his clothing.

“Please don’t leave,” you uttered into his chest, your body trembling.  With the adrenaline finally subsiding, the pain radiating from your jaw grew more and more noticeable.  Every movement seemed to irritate your bruised bone, and talking felt like trying to articulate with a lead weight attached to your mandible.  

With your face smushed into his clothing, you didn’t see when Law placed the cup back down on your counter, only hearing the soft tap of the plastic against the linoleum surface.  His arms carefully, as if to not shatter you where you stood, wrapped around your waist, one hand coming to rest comfortably in between your shoulder blades, his fingers sprawling out over your spine before retracting and collecting some of the fabric from your own shirt into his inked fingers.  It felt like his hand was made specifically to bring you comfort.

—

It took some time for you to calm yourself down enough to relocate from the bathroom doorway to the small living space you typically shared with your roommate when she was home.  You listened with your head resting on a soft pillow and an ice pack nursing your jaw as Law busied himself between your bathroom and kitchen, washing the cup, cleaning off the bathroom counter and sink for a second time, and disposing of the small garbage bag where your bloody gauze had ended up.  Your living room was dark, with the only light coming from the kitchen, just enough to catch glimpses of Law’s shadow moving about the space.  Your face ached from the force of crying against your bruised jaw bone, your eyelids uncomfortably sliding over your corneas, dry and fragile after expelling what was easily the rest of the water in your body.

After what felt like an eternity, Law finally emerged from the kitchen, carefully approaching your laid out form on the couch.  He kneeled in front of you and adjusted the ice pack against your cheek slightly, the tenderness of his fingers ghosting over your own.  Your heart galloped in your chest.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into that mess,” you groaned, forcing your dry eyes closed to avoid Law’s pensive stare.

“You didn’t drag me into anything.  I acted on my own,” he replied stoically, his hand remaining within close proximity to your own.  His tattooed fingers flexed a few times, eager to take your hand in his, but he eventually relented and let his limb fall back to his side.

You shifted uncomfortably on the couch, curling your legs up toward your chest.  “But you could’ve gotten hurt.”

Law bit the inside of his cheek at your words, his own chest clenching in disdain, not for you, but for the hyena that had left you feeling such a way.  “I don’t care if I get hurt if it means you stay safe.”

When your eyes opened, they were small.  Weak.  Like you had been fighting some unknown battle in your skull for as long as you could remember.  You truly looked tired and ragged, and Law wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms until all your life’s woes flushed away like the aftermath of a rainstorm.

“Law…” you began, your mouth opening and closing a few times, at a loss for what to continue with.  “I never really liked Bellamy.”

The man stayed quiet, his lips pulled in a taut line.

“But sometimes, when you get really uncomfortable, all you can do is laugh and smile.  Because you hope that acting friendly and cordial and cute will keep you safe from danger.”  Your voice was so fragile, your words mumbled as you continued to cradle your jaw with the thawing ice pack against your skin.  “I never wanted to hang out with Bellamy, but he scared me so much and I just… didn’t know how to say no.  I didn’t want to get hurt.”

Again.

Law’s own jaw clenched, suppressing a bubbling rage as he relived the blonde’s actions from a few hours prior.  A deep-rooted maniacal side of the medical student wished he could gut the D-1 athlete in his sleep, but what good would that do?  It certainly wouldn’t help you in the way you needed it.  And the fact that your attempts to protect yourself had only led you to getting attacked in the first place made his blood boil in his veins.  But he needed to stay calm for you.  Anger solves no issues.  He learned that from Cora, his best friends, and now you.

A bout of anger got you out of the situation you were stuck in, and now you needed comfort.

“What…” he began, stumbling.  “What do you want from me?  To help you?”

After a few brief moments of silence, the only sound cutting through the darkness being the faint wrrr of your air conditioning unit, you finally spoke up.  “Can you spend the night with me?”

Law blinked once, then twice.  “Here?”

“Yeah.  In my room.”

He gazed at you through the darkness, his golden eyes widened.  “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

You emitted a small gust of air through your nose.  “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

Fair enough.  “Do you have anywhere you want me to sleep?” he asked, helping you sit up against the couch cushions and carefully easing the ice back off of your jaw.  The swelling had gone down substantially, but it would still take a week or two for the bruise to fully heal.

One of your hands remained planted against his shoulder, gripping the cotton of his shirt.  “In my bed.  I feel safe with you, Law.  It’s really okay.”

After receiving your words of affirmation, Law stood from his crouched position and guided you to stand through the darkness, his hand in yours and the other clutched around the ice pack.  He discarded the item on your kitchen counter to be dealt with in the morning, keen on getting you comfortable under your secure blankets.  You gladly followed him, stepping carefully through the dark home into your bedroom where you blindly navigated to your bedside lamp, pulling down on the cord to activate the light.  The warm orange glow flooded the room, making the two of you squint your eyes.

Law could finally see just how bad your bruise really was.  A large, black and blue swollen welt tinged with red the exact size of a harshly clenched fist was carved across your skin.  The sight of the impact was much more swollen compared to the other side.  You had taken a hit most street thugs hadn’t ever dealt with.

“It’s really bad, isn’t it,” you asked, voice still paper-thin and anxious. 

“It’s… definitely a decent injury,” Law responded bluntly, inwardly cursing himself at his awkward language.

You didn’t hold it against him, however.  Instead, you stripped off your clothes, crawling into bed and leaving the other side open for Law.

“You’re really okay with this?” he asked, one more time.

You nodded.  “Yes.”

Law followed your initial lead, taking off his jeans, followed by his shirt and socks, leaving only his boxers covering him.  He carefully crawled into the space in your blankets you had left open for him, laying on his back like a plank with his hands awkwardly draped over his abdomen.  You pulled down on the cord to your lamp once more and flooded the room with darkness.

The med student felt the mattress dip as you moved closer to him, effortlessly draping yourself over his body, as if you were made to fit into the crevice of his neck.  His hands found their position around your back and waist yet again, surrounding you in the comfort you had been longing for all night.  You nestled your face into the soft skin of his neck, slow, deep breaths setting a hypnotic, drowsy pace for the both of you to fall into slumber.

No words had to be exchanged, not until the morning at least.  Your legs tangled together and your hearts beating in sync did all the talking for now.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #request fics

[lazyjellyfish300]

The Woman He Didn't Choose Part 6🥀

AU Bachelor!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Contestant!Reader

Synopsis: After the big rose ceremony fight, your future in Paradise is uncertain. But one thing is for certain, a new storm is brewing... Word count 4.8k

Part 1(previous parts linked in the post)

A/N: EEEE, thank you for all the support and love this AU has gotten with all the recent asks as of late, just TY TY so much! 🖤 I think there will only be 3 chapters max after this then we will bid this series farewell 😢 going back to my Jersey Shore roots for this one as the inspiration mixed in!

DISCLAIMER: I have changed the name of the show for copyright purposes, I don't own or have rights to the TV show The Bachelor or Bachelor in Paradise and all credit goes to the rightful owners.

TW: MINORS DNI, ANGST(slightly less in this chapter), DRAMA, SUGGESTIVE-GETTING HANDSY ON THE DANCE FLOOR, MULTIPLE PEOPLE MAKING OUT MENTIONED, NO MAJOR SMUT YET(THAT'S FOR THE FAIRYTALE SUITES 🤭😏), BREAK UP, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, CHEATING, BETRAYAL, RELATIONSHIP TROUBLES, GASLIGHTING

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Jason Donner speaks in a voiceover: "Tonight on Singles in Paradise... 

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Jason takes a deep breath as he addresses the anxious group that are setting in various spots in the common room. You and Felicia are holding onto each other's knees cross legged on the floor. Miguel is watching Jason's face intently for any detection of the news he is about to share. George has an arm around MJ who is fiddling nervously with her necklace. Ben is locked in a dead stare at a spot on the floor. Peter B. is noticeably absent. 

"Alright, y'all , I know there's been a lot of madness around here lately. Just a little update on Dana: she will not be returning to paradise." 

You and Felicia do your best not to crack a smile as you slowly turn to look at each other. 

"Now..." Jason warns. "I do not condone anything that took place at the rose ceremony tonight. Physical violence will not be tolerated on any show of the Eligible Suitor Nation. However..." He pauses, motioning towards you. 

"I understand that some of it was provoked by some words that were exchanged between fellow cast mates..." He continues, putting it vaguely. “....and I want you to know that we do not condone that either. Due to Dana's departure, Miguel?" 

Miguel slowly looks up at Jason, a hopeful look on his face. 

"We will let you stay another week. However, if you do not have a rose by that time, you will be going home for good. Understood?" 

Miguel nods silently and smiles, uttering a murmur of gratitude. 

"Great." Jason says. "Well, everyone, it's been a long night. Why don't we call it here. We'll have some fun surprises to look forward to tomorrow as well as a group outing. With that, I'll bid you all goodnight. Everyone behave from here on out, got it?" He points a finger at the room with everyone nodding and mumbling in silent confirmation. 

"Good. Goodnight everyone." He turns, fastening one of his buttons on his light tan suit jacket as he steps out, walking away into the night. 

Everyone sighs and Felicia pops up, offering both of her arms to you and grunts in unison with you as you use her to stand up as well, your feet and legs like television static from sitting cross legged on the floor. Felicia turns to Ben and gives him a hug in silence, talking quietly amongst each other before it's time to separate for bedtime. 

Miguel takes you by the hand, your cheeks growing a little warm as you look up at him. 

"You good?" He murmurs lowly at you. 

You yawn loudly, raising your free hand over your mouth, nodding your head as you release it. "M'fine..." 

You let go of his hand for a moment as you place both hands on the small of your back, bending backwards a little bit as you stretch your spine, holding your breath for a moment then letting it out with a deep sigh. "Just need some sleep I guess." 

Miguel nods with a hum. "Want me to walk you to your room?"

"Um..." You hesitate a little, looking around then squeezing past Miguel to get your blanket that's sitting behind him on the couch. "I'll be alright. I was gonna walk back with Felicia anyways since we're staying in the same villa." 

"Right, right..." Miguel nods, trying to disguise his disappointment by looking at a spot over your shoulder. 

"Well, thank you, you know for having my back with everything...and g'night." You sort of bend your knees in a little bow of farewell with your blanket and your sandal wedge heels in your arms as you turn around, Felicia skipping quickly to walk by your side as you both stroll down the moonlit path to your room. Miguel watches you leave with a bittersweet look on his face. 

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The camera sits in front of an unoccupied bamboo chair in the confessional area, until Peter B. comes into the frame, sitting down with a grunt. 

He blows air out of his cheeks, shaking his head as he runs his fingers through his hair, sitting back in the chair and letting his arms flop dead to the side, the rose you gave him knocked askew and holding on by just one pin to his white button down. 

One of the producers talks to him from behind the camera, the voice a little muffled and so the question is broadcasted across the screen in subtitle captions. 

"What's going through your mind right now, Peter?" 

Peter laughs pathetically, shaking his head and sitting up, leaning forward a little with his elbows in his lap, fingertips touching, hanging his head a little as he thinks silently to himself before he looks at the camera. "There's a lot on my mind now...but I just... there's nothing. You know? You know that feeling where you have so much on your mind that you just end up staying frozen where you are? Yeah. That's what I'm feeling like right now." 

"Are things over between you and y/n?" 

Peter B. puffs air out of his cheeks again. "I don't know." He shrugs, a tired look in his eyes "I don't know. She wants nothing to do with me right now." 

He stares into space for a moment. "I'm over the bullshit. Miguel and George. Those two are a problem. They need to watch themselves. And, Ben's my boy, you know? But I was not expecting him to turn, *he snaps his fingers* ...like that." 

He pauses once more, fuming silently, until he presses his face to his palms, hanging his head. "Things are gonna get ugly. Just watch."

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The sun rises on another day in paradise. The group shuffles into the common area, grabbing smoothies from the bar and bowls of cereal and oatmeal, eating in quiet silence as you all slowly start to wake up. 

You approach Ben and Felicia at their table with your wet suit half on, asking her for help zipping you up the rest of the way. She nods, sticking her spoon in her mouth as she scoots forward on the bench, zipping you up. 

The resort's bartender, James calls over to you. "Morning, ladies. What's the plan today?" 

"Um surfing lessons, apparently. Hence, the wet suits." You gesture to your torso. 

James nods with a smile as he wipes down the bar. "Nice nice. I heard things were quite eventful last night." 

You scoff. "That's putting it lightly..." 

"Wanna catch me up?" 

You and Felicia look at each other. "Girl you do it..." 

"Okay so basicallyy..." Felicia sits on one of the bar stools, scooting in closer. "It was ladies choice this week right? It was me and Ben, y/n and Peter, MJ and George. Web-Slinger went home. And Dana offered Miguel a rose but he declined so he was gonna go home. Then out of nowhere, the man decides to drop a bomb that Dana and Peter were caught fooling around in some bushes. Everyone started freaking out. The guys started getting into it. Then Dana and I got into it. Then she and Dana fought and Dana got her ass laid out. So how she's in the hospital, they're giving Miguel a second chance, and I guess now we're going surfing." Felicia concludes, nearly out of breath. 

James chuckles and shakes his head. "I regret asking for an update." He leans on the bar, addressing you this time. "So where do you and Peter stand as of right now?" 

"Right now?" You ask, taking a deep sigh as you contemplate. "Honestly, I don't even know. I think I'm over it, to be honest." 

"Speaking of..." James reduces to a murmur. 

"Hey." 

You cheeks get hot as you sense Peter standing behind you without turning around. 

"Can I speak to you for a moment?" Peter asks, his face twisted into a slight plea. 

You turn around, giving him a dry nod. Felicia cranes her neck as she watches you walk away with him. 

You and Peter walk a short distance away, standing under the shade of a nearby palm tree. You raise one of your hands, cupping it in a visor over your eyes and squinting due to the sunlight as you look up at him with your other hand on your hip, waiting for his half ass apology with a slight aura of impatience wafting off of you. 

Peter takes a deep breath. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry for my actions last night. I was unfair to you, and I just hope that we can walk away on civil terms if anything." 

You twist your mouth a little in annoyance. "You lied straight to my face, Peter. I mean.....what do you want me to say to that?" 

"Nothing." Peter answers. "Nothing really. Just uh...." He's silent shaking his head. "I don't know. I just wanted to apologize and it wouldn't have felt right if I didn't at least say sorry before we ended things." 

You nod, staying quiet for a moment. "Well, I mean I appreciate you trying to do the right thing. But I agree, I think we should end things, you know. Clearly, you still have some unresolved things to work out. I really didn't deserve that though." 

"You're totally right, you didn't." Peter agrees, shifting his stance a little. 

"Right." 

Peter blows air out slowly. "Well..." He holds his arms out but you shake your head. 

"Um...not this time, you know? I'm just not feeling it..." 

"Right right..." Peter stuffs his hands back in his pockets in mild embarrassment. "Sorry." 

"Thanks." 

"You're welcome." 

"Alright." You nod in mutual conclusion and turn around, walking back to Felicia and Ben while Peter walks in a separate direction. 

"Well?" Felicia, Ben and James await at the bar. 

You shrug, having a seat next to Felicia, leaning forward with your forearms on the bar. "It's done. We're done." 

"Just like that?" James asks. 

"Just like that." You echo. 

"I'm so sorry dude..." Felicia gives you a sad look of sympathy. 

"No, you know? I'mI'm a little bummed, not going to lie. Yeah I liked him, but I really have no patience for it anymore, you know? You either want me, or you don't. And he can't decide what he wants. So to that I say: see ya." 

"Amen." James says with an impressed hum. 

"Girl, I'm so proud of you. Good for you." Felicia praises. 

"So what does that mean for you now?" James asks. "Anyone else here you got your eye on?" 

"Well..." You sigh, looking off. "Miguel still really wants another chance." 

"You think you'll give it to him?" James inquires. 

"I don't know..." You admit. "I mean, that's the thing. With Miguel, there's history there too, but you all saw how that ended and so now, I'm just feeling nervous about the whole thing. I would love nothing more than to just go up to him and say yes, yes let's do it, I'm all in. But are you gonna hurt me again and switch up the next day? I don't know."

James hums in agreement. "Can't say I blame you there. But, in Paradise, you gotta take risks. Who knows? Something about paradise: anything can happen. In fact..." 

James bends down, retrieving a small wooden box with a slit in the top and setting on top of the bar. You and Felicia have looks on your faces that only say one thing: "oh shit", when you realize what it is. 

"It's Truth Box Time." 

Ben's eyes scrunch in curiosity. "How does this one work again?" 

"Completely anonymous. But one hundred percent honest. Write down anything you wanna say to either a specific member of the group, or the group as a whole. Confessions, observations, complaints, truth bombs, dirty laundry. It all goes in here." James explains, patting that cursed box. "It's time to shake things up a bit. And the rule is: every single person needs to participate."

"That's the last thing this beach needs right now." Felicia groans. 

Your mind buzzed with what drama and messy thoughts the box could bring forth, Miguel, and your future in Paradise as you made your way down the beach for your surfing lesson. 

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Miguel gives you a smile as he comes walking down the beach to where you and the others are waiting, his floppy brown locks and sculpted ab muscles on full display with his half zipped up wet suit. "Good morning." 

"Morning." You give him a little nod, grateful that you're wearing a pair of sunglasses to disguise your wandering eyes. Allowing yourself to indulge in staring at the man's behind as you help zip him up. 

Throughout the surfing lesson, you're having a hard time paying attention to the instructor, things like the truth box and your future in Paradise and Miguel still plaguing your mind from earlier. Still, you manage to enjoy yourself, soaking up the healing rays of the sun and letting out a squeal and a wave to your friends on the shore when you finally manage to stand up on your board for longer than 2 seconds, shortly before the salty waves swallowed you up.

You and Felicia figure that's more than enough for one day, ordering a drink from the beach side attendants and applying a fresh layer of sunscreen while Miguel and Ben knock themselves out, surfing it up to their heart's content. 

"We so needed this." You mutter to Felicia who gives a low hum in response as you both bask on your beach towels, eyes closed. 

You can't help but become aware of some bickering coming from a short distance away, lowering your shades a little bit to make out who's starting off the drama fresh and early in the day this time. 

"Fine, go lay down then. Oh my goddd, Mary Jane. First it's your hair doesn't look right, then it's your stomach hurting, why don't you be honest about what it really is?" 

"George..." 

"I didn't even wanna do this dumb hang ten, surf's up, shit anyway. Alls I said was thank you! What, you want me to say go fuck yourself?" 

"It's not what you said, it's how you said it." 

"Oh my God Mary Jane! Let me just run everything I say by you before I say it. Would you like that, would that make her royal Highness happy? Let me ask Queen Mary Jane before I call my mother and wish her a happy birthday how about that? Since she gets mad if I even breathe in the direction of another female!"

You don't make out the rest as you watch the pair wander a little further down the shore before you see MJ storm off and George throwing his hands in the air as he walks back towards the group. 

"Damn. Poor MJ." 

"I know the girl hates me but I can't help but feel bad for her. George is the biggest flirt. Everyone knows it." Felicia stretches out. 

"You think I should go talk to her, just see if she's okay?" 

"I mean, good luck if you do." Felicia retorts, reaching for her water bottle in her beach bag. "I could never get through to the girl."

"Hey!" Miguel and Ben come up, Miguel sitting himself down next to you. 

"Stawwwp!" Felicia giggles when Ben wags his hair, spraying her like a wet dog. 

Miguel grins at you, panting from his exertion earlier, looking heavenly with his wet mop of dark hair and wet droplets coating his sunkissed skin. "Having fun?" 

"Yeah, I am. I'm gonna go do some damage control though." 

Miguel's brow furrows. "Who?" 

"MJ and George." 

Miguel shakes his head with a sigh, running his hands through his hair. "George can be kind of a douche." 

"That's what I keep hearing." You say, sitting up and standing up. "So I'm gonna go try and see if I can help MJ. You know? I feel bad for her. She doesn't have anyone else here in Paradise." 

Miguel nods slowly, but can't help but be a little apprehensive about the situation. "Be careful. I'd hate for you to get mixed up in anything." 

"I won't." You give him a reassuring smile. "Be right back." 

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You find MJ talking with James at the bar. Her voice tapers off when she realizes someone is behind her. She raises an eyebrow in a mixture of surprise and suspicion when she sees that it's you of all people. 

You don't say anything at first, just give her a kind smile as you take the bar stool next to her. You both sit in awkward silence for a moment, then you break it. 

"I know we haven't talked a whole lot or anything. I know you're thinking this must be so weird since we both dated Peter and everything but I just noticed you over here by yourself and wanted to see if you were okay?" You start off carefully with an overly sweet tone to demonstrate you pose no threat, testing the waters. 

MJ softens a little then lets out a deep sigh, figuring what is it going to hurt to be honest at this point.

 "Thank you. Just needed to get away for a sec...But I'm okay...and no, it's fine. Pete is never gonna change who he is. And I am who I am so..." She huffs and sips her margarita, then wiping her eyes. "But with George, he's literally perfect. Like it's so good when it's good but when we're not..."

You look at her with sympathetic eyes, not saying anything. 

"Lately we've been having disagreements because I don't know if he realizes it, but he flirts with other women all the time. And he says to me, babe I'm just being nice. And I tell him, like I understand that, but to those women and to me it comes across as flirting." 

"Right, right. No, I get you." You nod, leaning on your elbow. "Like it's just a respect thing." 

"Exactly!" MJ rests her head in her palm, twirling her margarita glass in circles on the bar. "All I was trying to say was it's not what you say, it's your tone and how you say it. But once again, I'm the bad guy." 

You nod, picking at your cuticles while you listen, lost in thought and also relieved that she's willing to open up to you. 

"I'm gonna go to the spa for a bit." She sighs, pushing her empty glass away from her. She thinks for a moment, then decides to take a chance. "Can I ask you to do something for me, though? Woman to woman?" 

"Oh?" You perk up, a little surprised but willing to hear her out. "Sure, what is it?" 

"Just, please tell me if he flirts with anyone again? If you see something, tell me. Fairytale Suites are next week, and I just don't have the time or patience to deal with anymore bullshit." 

"Oh, of course." You nod profusely. "Absolutely. I'll keep my eyes open, girl. Don't worry." 

MJ gives you a hint of a smile. "Thanks, girl. Good luck to you..." And leaves for the spa. 

After she leaves, you sprint down towards the beach with your freshly poured cup of tea. 

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

"Jesus..." Your audience of Felicia, Ben, and Miguel sit with the news you just unloaded on them, puzzled but not surprised at the revelation of George and MJ's trouble in Paradise. 

Miguel leans back on his towel. "I called it honestly. George has a wandering eye, we've known this ever since he was on Rio's season." 

"It's a bunch of drama." Ben shakes his head. "I don't wanna see you, or you." He nods in your direction. "Get in another scrap like last night. Let's just chill, and end this last week or so that we've got on a good note." 

"Amen." Miguel sits up, stretching. 

"What are your guys' plans for tonight?" Felicia asks. 

"Um..." You look up at Miguel. "Well, I'd like to just relax for a bit. You and I can hang out here for a bit, then Jason said the group is going clubbing tonight. Wanna meet at the common area for dinner at, say 5 ish?" 

"Sounds good to me." Miguel nods, then looks at Ben. "You down to go golfing?" 

Ben wraps his towel around his neck. "I'm down. Let's go," before he gives a goodbye to Felicia. 

"Call me if you need anything. And stay out of trouble." Miguel gives you a playful smile and a grip to your thigh, then walks off with Ben towards the resort. 

Some time later, you're fully zoned out, both you and Felicia laying out like two iguanas in your element, when she sits up with a gasp. "Dude...look." 

You groggily sit up, then the sight in front of you delivers you immediately to full consciousness. 

George is standing ankle deep in the water some distance away, chatting it up with Christine, the short, curvy, blonde surf instructor. He's laughing, looking like he's having the time of his life as she occasionally reaches out, touching his arm and chest as she speaks to him. 

"Are you seeing this?!" 

"Girl, I am definitely seeing this." 

He leans in a little closer putting his hand on the small of her back, dangerously close to her ass. 

"What...a...little....bitch...George Stacy...you...slimy dog you...." Felicia shakes her head. 

The couple turn towards you and both you and Felicia immediately turn into mummies, laying back on your towels, holding your breaths, pretending like you weren't just honed in on the crime taking place, before George gives her a nervous nod and smile and walks away.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Later that night, you and Felicia are all dolled up as queens of the night, wearing tight fitting cocktail dresses, showcasing both of your deadly curves and  that carefree twinkle of paradise vacation on your skin making you both look even more alluring than you normally do, leaving Ben and Miguel with hearts in their eyes and warmth pooling in their chests. 

You're all dancing at an outdoor bar, local music pounding your eardrums, margarita number three working its disarming magic in your veins, twirling and holding your hair in a sexy display of feminity on the dancefloor with Ben and Miguel close by. Peter B. sulking in the corner. 

You bite your lip as you watch Miguel snap his fingers and move his hips with a smirk on his face, a little far off memory coming back to you of the night you shared together in a hotel room when you experienced those bewitching movements firsthand underneath him. 

Your thong under your tight dress gets a little wet as your eyes rake across his figure, letting them linger on every faint line of muscle accentuated under entrancing disco lights, and the opening in his black button up shirt, with his chiseled chest on display. You spin around, letting your body press up against his a little longer than it should. 

Miguel utterly groans, switching his glass to his left hand as he touches you with his right, continuing to move to the beat. You lay your head back against him and your pretty lips fall open as you feel his ring  lightly graze your tits until his hand hugs low on your stomach, gently guiding and pressing your body to synchronize with his hips as his full lips brush against your ear, making your eyelashes flutter. 

But, the song ends and you open your eyes, temporarily snapped out of your horny fantasy as the crowd claps and cheers, begging the DJ for one more song. Miguel joins in the applause, setting down his glass for a moment and giving you a bashful smile as though to apologize for letting himself get carried away as the new song starts. 

The sight of an angry MJ pushing past people in the club makes itself known in your peripheral vision.

You grab Felicia, yelling "Look!" over the deafening noise of the crowd as you both watch her angrily leave and hail a taxi in tears. 

"It's George." Felicia mouths to you. 

"Where is he?" You try and communicate back. 

"Let's go." 

You and Felicia signal to Miguel and Ben that you're gonna "go to the bathroom". Miguel nods but hardly acknowledges, holding his sides and wheezing in a fit of laughter as he watches Ben valiantly face off with an older woman in a dance battle. 

The scene you were expecting to find when you see George is even more juicy than you could have imagined. He has an entourage of four women grinding on him with his shirt unbuttoned, his face red and sweaty with the unmistakeable flush of intoxication, sipping a beer from a bottle as he watches a brunette in front of him bend over and shake her ass directly over his cock. He bites his lip and puts both hands on her ass, beckoning for her to turn around. 

The camera zooms in as yours and Felicia's jaws damn near hit the floor when he starts sloppily kissing her, only for her drunk friend to start joining in in a three way nasty drunken makeout sesh. 

It's a damn shame none of you are allowed to have your cell phones right now. 

After the nasty kissing subsides, you notice him stand up, holding a new mystery woman with curly hair's hand and what appears to be a small piece of paper being slipped into his fingers as she whispers in his ear and he bites his lip. 

You both have seen quite enough, darting back to Miguel and Ben in a fit of sweaty bodies as the night at the club wanes on. 

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Back at the resort, it's getting close to truth telling time. You and Felicia and James sit together in a somber meeting at the infamous bar which is soon to become the second most popular location for tea spilling once the dreaded truth box hits the fan. 

You and Felicia are not quite at the level of sobriety you probably should be before you make this decision. 

"She needs to know." 

James nods in agreement, pushing the box towards you. "Let it all out." 

"I feel bad about doing it anonymously though, like what if she finds out it was us? Or what if George finds out?" You shiver a little at the thought. 

"Dude, MJ hates me." Felicia whispers. "I know you think she's chill, but trust me, she's not as reasonable as you think she is. She is crazier than me. And that's saying a lot." 

You raise your eyebrows at the last statement. 

"I'm serious! When Peter tried to hit on me after they broke up, no joke, all I did was send her a screenshot with 'hey girl, I'm coming to you as a woman right now, just wanted to let you know your man was in my inbox' and you wanna know what this girl did? She sends me a SEVEN MINUTE LONG voice note. Absolutely bitching me out about what a hoe I am, and how could you do this to me, you know what he and I have been through together, as one of the girls who was also on the show I would've expected you to be more considerate of my feelings and blah blah blah. I'm telling you dude. It's better this way." 

You blow a long steam of air out of your cheeks. "Okay, okay, you know what? You're my bestie, I'll take your word for it. Let's just do this." 

You take the pen in your hand, starting to draft the wretched confession. "Dear.....MJ..." you lick your lips in concentration. 

"Today....at the beach, when you left upset, George put his hand on the surf instructor's ass. He was flirting with her and she was touching his arm and chest while they were talking...." 

"Mhmm...okay go on." Felicia twirls a strand of hair in deep thought as you continue writing. 

"When you left crying at the club, George made out with two girls. He was also dancing and grinding with multiple mystery women. He also held a girl's hand and took down her number." 

"Yep." Felicia nods. "It's harsh but it's the truth." 

"Ben and Miguel know." You bite your lip. "Should we add in here that multiple people know so it doesn't look like it's coming from us?" 

"Yeah..." Felicia thinks for a moment then nods. 

"Multiple.... people on this beach know. Therefore, you should know the truth. There, boom." 

You and Felicia examine the note over and over, muttering silently as you reread it before you slip it in the box. 

"It's done." 

You both look at each other and clink your glasses together, your confession stowed away in what's surely going to turn into Pandora's box in just a few hours. Savoring a few seconds of quiet with your bestie before all hell breaks loose. 

Jason Donner speaks in a voiceover: “Find out what happens next week in another drama packed episode of Singles in Paradise!” 

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Tags 🖤: @miguelhugger2099 @kodo1221 @mimiemie @laysmt @cheerrioeoz @spicydonut25 @thisistotesnotspam-heart @famouscattale @thekidscallmebosss @librababe99 @cl3stevu @irishbl0ss0mz @nommingonfood @mauvecherie-writes @royale-skeleton-key @thesilenthill @dimitri-needs-therapy @a-lil-whore @aisyakirmann @sylveon-of-heart @hobiebrowns-wife @weirdothatwritess @reader-1290 @thesmutconnoisseur @koyukilove

@hardlystrictlystarwars @lareinamorgan @serpentineaerodynamics

@envyjmoney @clementines-valt @the-pan-liquid

@stellasloth @migueloharasoulmate @cynwing

@ddreabea @what-the-jams @loaves4me @p1nkliquor @mcmiracles @tojishugetiddies @1-800-choke-that-ho @daddyfroglegs @leonsbimbogf @thatone-writer

#Spotify #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara au #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n

[loveluvrs]

not enough l max verstappen x reader

request/summary – Hi! Can I request for an angsty Max Verstappen x Reader where she is just a normal girl y’know not the “supermodel” type like the other WAGs and she also leads a normal life with a normal job, thus why she got so much hate from the media and the fangirls. Never quite fit in with the other WAGs either. At some point it’s all getting too much and she decided to break up with Max because she truly believes that she’s not meant for this life but then she saw Max stands up for her during a press conference?? I had this scenario in mind while listening to Gold Rush by Taylor Swift, if that also helps! Thank you <3

author's notes – HELLO??/ LANDO WIN??? IM SO PROUD OF HIM! do expect another fic coming out this weekend around lando's win. it will be self indulgent about reader missing the race 🤕 keep an eye out but enjoy this in the meantime and keep sending in requests!!

Max and I sat in our hotel room the night before the race weekend started. I was sat on the floor as I tried to help Max with unpacking his suitcase. I had, by some miracle, convinced my lovely (but not exactly fashionable) boyfriend to wear some non-Red Bull clothes for once to the paddock. He reluctantly agreed, since he knew I barely come to races with him due to my tight schedule, and this was the least he could do for me. 

“Okay, idea. How about, you wear the Miami GP button up…and then the black jeans I bought with you, the baggy ones, and then your usual shoes? Not too much out of your comfort zone, I hope?” I ask with excitement as I look back up towards him. 

“And what if I don’t like it?” He asks, clearly unsure of the whole idea. I nod understandingly. “Well, I mean, of course you don’t have to, Maxie. But I just thought it’d be fun. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I say softly as I try and search his face for any signs for the reason to his reluctance. 

I watched as his head dropped down to his lap. “And what if I look stupid in it?” He asks quietly. I immediately felt my heart melt. “Baby, why ever would you think that? You’ll look great in it, promise. But it’s okay if you don’t want to, we can try again some other time, okay?” I say softly as I interlock our hands to comfort him. He nodded. 

——

When we got to the paddock, I felt a little out of place, knowing all the other WAGs would be there. Max notices me fidgeting nervously with my fingers, and he brings my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on it before intertwining our fingers. During all the practice sessions, quali, and the race, I felt awfully like an outsider. All the other girls were supermodels, and very conventionally attractive. I felt like the stand out amongst them, and not in a good way. They all talked with each other earnestly about the newest dress shop they just found, and while they had no malicious intentions of leaving me out, it just didn’t work with my humor and their tastes. 

With a sigh, I go roam the paddock. Max finds me afterwards, a little confused. “Hey schatje, I thought you were with the other girlfriends?” He asks softly as his arm slings around my shoulders to bring me with him as he walks to the garage. I try and brush off the left out feeling I had from earlier and just shrug. “I was just getting a little bored, nothing much,” I say as I shoot him a quick smile. “You sure?” He asks with raised brows as he looks at me knowingly. I nod with a hum, giving him a kiss before I send him off to his meetings. 

After the race, Max flies to Monaco for the next race, and I fly back to the UK to my place as I didn’t have any more days off. I open my phone a few days after, scrolling on twitter as usual. I felt my heart sink a little as I see a tweet with all of the WAGs being spotted hanging out. I felt my stomach churn at the way their skin glowed, and their clothes hung off their figures so delicately yet so effortlessly. It was stupid to feel jealous of them, I knew it was. But it was also stupid of me to think I could ever have been a part of the same category they were. And unfortunately, the replies to the tweet all agreed. 

maxfan93739 – I wonder why max’s girl isn’t there? 

georgeschassis – why would she be there? she’s not even a model?

dutchlion – I don’t even think she’s talked to them before

landosbandage – yeah she’s not like the other gfs, she usually keeps to herself

I turned off my phone, unable to think straight. Max called me that night to let me know that he got his schedule cleared by some miracle and was gonna fly out to be with me in the morning, but I had already fallen asleep from exhaustion. I hadn’t ate the whole day, staying in my bed under the covers, burying myself from everything and everyone until my eyes closed from fatigue. 

I woke up the familiar sound of Max playing with my cat in the morning, a few laughs from him. I felt like I was going to throw up, so dizzy that I didn’t even question the fact that Max was at my place so suddenly. I opened up my phone to the usual tweets, and I couldn’t stop myself from searching up my name, seeing what people were saying about me. 

she’s so much fatter and shorter than the other gfs, don’t know why max is with her….. 

annoying people attract annoying people ig……. 

Max is a three time world champion, he shouldn’t be with an ugly girl whose using him for his money and fame……

we’ve never even seen her support him in public, she plays it off as being introverted and shy as if we don’t know what she’s doing. 

I slam my phone face down as I hear Max’s voice. “Schat? Hey, I didn’t know you were awake. I called you last night to tell you I was gonna fly in last minute, but I think you already fell asleep, right?” Max asks with no suspicion of what I was just doing. I nodded. “You want some breakfast, love? I ordered in some waffles from that place you love?” He asks excitedly. 

I stay silent for a moment, thinking of the tweets. “Uh, you know what? I think I’ll skip out on breakfast today,” I say with a nonchalant smile. His smile falters. “Baby, you need to have breakfast or else you’ll be hungry. It’s not healthy,” he says as his voice softens. “No no no, I know, Maxie. I just had a really heavy dinner last night. Like really heavy. If I need a snack before I’ll lunch I’ll take it, don’t worry,” I say to try and convince him. I hold my breath as he scans me, thinking about my answer, before finally nodding and accepting it. “You tell me if you need a snack, alright?” He says as he presses a kiss on my forehead. 

This kept going on for many days, me making excuses about my meals like me eating when he was working out, or having a snack earlier, or that I felt super full from the last meal. Finally, one morning Max confronts me. 

He walks up to me while I’m sitting on the couch, my cat in my lap as I’m petting it. “Schatje, we need to talk. I know exactly what you’re doing. You’ve barely been eating, my love, what’s going on?” He asks with concern lacing his voice as he sits down next to me. 

I stiffen slightly, my stomach knotting up as I think about what he’s referring to. “Why don’t you ask twitter?” I say coldly. I see him sigh immediately, pursing his lips. “You know twitter isn’t good to listen to. It’s all bullshit, love,” he says as he tries to reach his arm out to me. I pull away, letting my cat go as I stand up. 

“Max, this is exhausting. I cannot constantly feel like every part of me is ugly because of the other WAGs being so stupidly beautiful because they’re models. I cannot handle being in the spotlight and having every single mannerism of mine criticized, every fluctuation in weight pinpointed and spotlighted for the world to see. I can’t do….. this,” I say with a sigh. 

He takes a few minutes to process what I’ve just said. “You can’t do…. us? Is that what you’re saying?”

I gulp, my silence being enough of an answer for him. “Oh come on, you can’t be serious. You’re gorgeous, and I don’t care that other girlfriends are models. I only care about you. Please, we can make this work,” he pleads softly. 

I shake my head. “I’ve been trying, Max. I’ve been trying to make it work this whole time. It’s just not happening. It’s too much for me. I need time away from it all.”

“You’re doing this to yourself, it doesn’t have to be like this,” he mutters with a voice of frustration.

I felt my eyes roll in frustration. “You just don’t get it! I wish so badly the I could just, not care the way you do, but unfortunately I care very very much about what they all say! And don’t you fucking dare blame this on me!” I snapped at him unintentionally, hurt that he’s blaming me right now when I very clearly needed him right now.

“I’m not trying to blame you! But why don’t you believe me? That I’ll protect you from it all like I have been doing! You don’t need to break up with me for this, for fuck’s sake,” he mutters out, his voice slightly raising now. 

I felt myself hold back tears in the back of my throat, not used to the angry tone my boyfriend was using, as I flinched at his tone. I sniffled, trying to hold back the tears with a shaky breath.

He takes a few seconds before he sighs, unable to change my mind. He clenches his jaw, slamming the door to our bedroom. By morning, all his stuff, including him, were gone from my place. 

Soon enough, the fans noticed. Noticed that I was no longer liking and commenting under Max’s posts, that I was no longer interrupting his streams, that Max didn’t talk about me much anymore. 

 A media reporter came up to Max during the race weekend for an interview. At the end, he asked, “It looks like you and your partner are not talking anymore, no?”

Max brushed it off casually in the way he always does about private matters to the media. “Uh, well, every relationship has its ups and down, you know? But that is something I prefer to keep private.”

“Well, better to be rid of her,” the reporter says jokingly. Max’s eyes suddenly shifted into a more serious tone. “No? She’s amazing and gorgeous and kind and intelligent. So no, it’s my loss, really. And either way,  you have no right to talk about any woman like that,” he says firmly before walking off. 

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen oneshot #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[little-boyyyy-blog]

back to america

jessie fleming x reader

when jessie makes the to move to portland, you were the only thing on her mind. yet still somehow. you make the biggest move of your relationship.

“i missed you.” the brunette girl you had missed so passionately whispered against the soft skin of your neck. your arms going and wrapping over jessie’s shoulders as you kept the door open with your foot.

“i missed you more jay”

there was a few bags behind the girl; knowing the the rest were getting flown out later in time. jessie and you had spent months (years) going back and forth over the idea of her making the move back to the states from west london. she had always fallen homesick, missing being so close to her parents and longtime girlfriend.

even while at ucla; jessie causally saw her family and friends. either making the trip up to london, ontario on school breaks or her family flying down on their long weekends to spend time with their girl. jessie and her family were thick as thieves. and she’d been telling anyone who asked that, that very reason was why she wanted to come back.

but she had also missed you. and she had just started subconsciously thinking of you as family.

but long distance had been extremely hard on you as a pair. and after you secured a job that was somewhere you felt like settling down at; at least for a while. you started not being able to take off nearly as much time as you could while finishing your masters and working a small restaurant job.

so once she did decide on coming back to the states, she wasted no time in coming home. and by that she meant you. and your high rise apartment that she loved dearly.

“there’s never been a longer plane ride a day in my life.”

jessie and you had met in a shared 3rd year kinetics and transport in material engineering class. it was one of the hardest classes you both had to face in the first 3 years at ucla. that was until you both had ended up in a group of 6 for your midterm final.

you had obviously known who jessie was, everyone did at ucla. but you also knew you had no chance at the gorgeous girl; subsequently leading to never letting you set yourself up for failure by even starting a conversation.

keeping your head down and your eyes away from the soccer stars vicinity allowed you to miraculously never end up in a position to gain a further crush on her. for three years at that! but once you were placed in the same group as her for your midterm, there was absolutely no point in trying.

“do you think anyone else is actually going to show up for this?” presley asked, is hands on his hips as he looked out the door. “it’s only 5:51, just sit down and relax”

he turned and squinted his eyes, causing you to crack a laugh from your friend. “i hate you.”

“no you don’t.”

“i showed up?” presley’s friend piped off; looking up from his computer to now watch the door. “we knew you would canonn, thank you for being early.” presley rolled his eyes before looking back out into the hall. “oo! jenny is here!”

“jenny?” you questioned.

“short blonde who sits front row? always has a question no matter the situation or subject?”

“ah jenny..” you mumbled. well let’s hope she’s useful. or at least more useful than you and some good ole google.

as the time ticked on further until 6’o clock; you found yourself letting out a small sigh of relief. as frustrating as it may be to have to carry the weight of one person in a group you couldn’t help but find a positive of jessie not being there. you didn’t have to face her. that gorgeous gorgeous face.

it was a matter of time. you knew you’d have to come face to face with the brunette who didn’t even know you existed; but you had felt a small amount of relief at it not being today.

but even without the girl your group started hitting the ground running; you working on your computer as the others gave you the information to type down onto the shared slides. the group had been mostly focused on creating an easily accessible but slightly complex introduction to a prototype for the project.

“-i am so sorry! is this group 3 for dr. kimmich’s class?” your eyes shot up from your computer, only to lock with your forever-far away crush. you knew your lips parted, no words coming out but parted as you stared at the beautiful girl. “yes it is! glad you could join us!” presley shot up from his seat, is coffee in hand as he quickly made his way to the brunette.

the last open seat was placed directly infront of you, so as presley ushered the girl in. you were shitting bricks.

the group picked up right where it left off. and jessie ended up being more useful than anyone else. she was insanely good at any engineering class it seemed; but you had never seen it first hand until now.

you could have caught many flies with the way your lips stayed parted and your eyes fixated on the soccer player. her hair was in a messy bun, wearing a ucla soccer shirt an a pair of grey sweats. she looked other-worldly.

you loved how bright her smile was and how her eyebrows furrowed inwards when she didn’t completely understand something. presley has landed multiple kicks to your shin, giving you the crazy eyes and mumbling under his breath everytime for you to stop staring.

you never really could.

“come on, let’s get your stuff inside” you pulled away from her embrace, stealing a peck from her lips and pushing her off to the side. stuggling but managing to pick up the few (four) duffle bags off of the ground and bringing them into your apartment.

“you say let’s and then bring them all in yourself”

“don’t want my pretty girl to hurt herself”

pushing through your bedroom door and placing them on the foot of your bed. jessie found her way behind you; wrapping her arms around your torso as you quickly unzipped one of her bags.

you were prepared to unpack her things, wanting to set up home base for her to make her feel more peaceful with the big change. and you shamelessly knew she’d find a way to wrap her arms around you as you did such. you both had spent 100’s of trips doing the small motions; and this one felt better as you knew it would one of the last.

pulling out all of her shirts and shorts as she laid kisses on the inside of your neck; whispering her ‘i miss you’s’ on the soft skin. having to resist your girlfriend as she continued even through your groans and teasing comments about her being a horny boy.

actually; that probably was one of the traits of jessie’s. she could easily be found herself getting lost in your neck any second possible; even in very public settings or terrible timed events.

“mm jess, get some hangers please” you pushed her away from you, you hand pressing against her hip and tapping for her to move. “fine.” she placed another soft kiss to your neck before scurrying off.

a small smile coming across your face as you continued pulling out her clothes. laying out the shirts flat on the bed and unfolding her pants/sweats only to refold them in a way that would make hanging them up on the hangers easier.

“where did your clothes go?” jessie questioned as she came out of the closet, arms filled with hangers.

of course she noticed right away.

“they are packed up” you rolled your eyes at your girlfriend, she had never been known for her abilities to pick up on subtle details. but she had to pick on this one?

“going on a trip? for what? a month?” she joked; sighing deeply as you grabbed the hangers out of her hands and started hanging up her shirts. a small smile coming across your lips as you caught the end of a portland jersey inbetween your fingertips. “more so months.”

portland has always loved their canadians; and jessie was absolutely no exception to that. so when she got the offer, there was absolutely no way she was going to decline it.

and trust, you understood why portland loved canadians so much. just look at yours?!

“baby what’s going on? there’s a lot of things missing?”

you swallowed your heartbeat down, feeling the anxiety of the impending implications coming faster than expected. you had secretly prayed that she wouldn’t have started questioning things until maybe a few days in.

you had cleared out space in your shower caddie for her own products, a little space on your bedside table for her things to take up. you had even set up an extra key ring by your door for her to be able to hang her keys up on; a brand new key to your apartment occupied it currently. one that she didn’t even know existed.

you watched as her head started looking through the room, her eyes going from the closet to you, to the bathroom door, the nightstand, under the bed, and moving to go to your armoire.

you placed your hand on the soft skin of her forearm, drawing her attention back to you; stopping her from moving around the room to see what else is missing.

taking a deep breath before you even looked at the brunette-girl eyes. “i love you jess, i have since our first group project junior year..” her right arm going around your waist, holding you as your hand gripped on the other girls forearm.

“..you’ve chased ever dream you’ve ever wanted and truthfully got them. making them more and your own in the process. you’ve shown me incredible elegance and composure in some of the hardest times of our relationship and i truly don’t see myself living this life with anyone else..” jessie’s grip found its way to somehow thighten; holding you almost flush against her as you stared up into her eyes.

your eyes watered at the look of complete awe she happened to hold in her beautiful face, incomparable to any 7 wonder or model you’ve ever seen. “..you’ve made the biggest move; the riskiest move of your career to come and make us work. and i would hate myself for not at least asking. so. will you move in with me?”

her smile reflected the same one you given her the day you said yes to her when she asked you on your first date. her hands now both coming up to hold your face as she looked at you; as if she was completely infatuated with you now.

“no way did you just ask me that?”

growing slightly shy at her gaze , you feel your own cheeks heat up in the hold of the girls rough palms. one of your own hands coming up and lightly clasping around her left wrist. a small nod coming from you as you felt embarrassment start to creep up. the lack of anwser made your brain run wild. “if you feel like it’s too soon or too much change at one time i completely un-“

“too soon? i tried countless times to have you move to england with me. i had hoped to quietly make myself at home but this is even better.” she shook her head at your self doubt. almost in amazement that you could even imagine something of the sort. “yes y/n. id love to move in with you.”

“really?”

“i can’t believe you’re re asking me that. im absolutely fucking sure.” her lips coming down to silence any response you could think of. and let’s just say those clothes did get folded and hung up. just happened to be the next morning.

#jessie fleming #fleming #jessie #portland #portland thorns #ucla #ucla bruins #ucla women’s soccer #chelsea women #chelsea wfc #nwsl #wsl #barclays wsl #jessie fleming x reader #nwsl x reader #wlw post #wlw #gxg #gxg imagine #oneshot #wlw oneshot #wlw x reader #women’s soccer #ncaa women’s soccer #canada women’s soccer #women’s football #woso soccer #woso x reader #woso community #woso

[pomefioredove]

Hiii! I adore your writings especially the vill fics thank you for blessing us vil fans 😭🙏💕

Can you please write soulmate au with vil and the perks of being soulmate with him? Thank youuu

thank you so much, that's so sweet!!! and OHHH soulmate.... so good

summary: soulmates type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, FLUFFY, lovesick vil forever

Vil Schoenheit had always deemed the existence of "soulmates" to be a thing confined in the lines of a poem.

Ever the rationalist, Vil hadn't even entertained the fantasy of meeting his "perfect match", if such a person even existed. His life was not that of a cheesy movie script he'd turn down.

Finding someone who could cope with his strict lifestyle would be a miracle in and of itself.

...And if you had asked Vil Schoenheit what his image of the perfect partner would be, he would say exactly that.

Someone beautiful, intelligent, responsible, with the dedication and discipline to keep up with him.

Spoken with a sardonic smile and honeyed words, Vil knew that his chances of actually finding someone to meet his standards, to keep up with him, were slim.

He couldn't have possibly imagined having to keep up with you, instead.

You were like a shooting star; swift and bright, moving faster than he could fathom, cutting through the dark parts of his life like a hot blade.

Something for him to wish on.

Beautiful.

Like nothing he could have ever imagined.

There was a radiance in everything you did, one that made your skin glow with or without products, a certain warmth that so contrasted the refined and elegant image he'd grown to associate with beauty.

Vil would eagerly tend to your every need. It was a dream just to touch you, to have the honor of pushing your hair out of your face.

He would savor every second of grazing your skin, of tracing your features with delicate fingertips, if only just to cleanse your pores after a long day.

With you, every simple action is beautiful.

Vil enjoys pampering people he cares for, and thus your life is full of high-end products, the best groceries money can buy, and his personal advice from the very second he sets eyes on you.

He would gladly do your personalized skincare routine with you every night and every morning if time allowed it.

2. Intelligent.

In such a way that makes him eager to understand you.

Really, it's your insatiable curiosity that draws him in.

He could spend hours upon hours simply listening to you talk. Your interests begin excite him just as much as they excite you, your passion for learning and creating capture his attention with ease.

There's never a dull moment between the two of you.

What others might consider useless conversations about trivial matters, Vil holds to the highest regard.

It comes to the point where he begins asking you for opinions, even if he knows he'll disagree with your answer, just to hear your perfect voice, just to watch your expression change in the way it does when you're thinking.

He's infatuated with your thought process, with the way your mind works.

Understanding you is not a labor, but a privilege.

3. Responsible.

To where all he could ask for is you and your gentle touch.

You care. Whether you're aware of it or not, you care so deeply about the people in your life, it almost puts Vil to shame.

Paired with your determination and resilience, and your ceaseless sense of independence, it's absolutely irresistible to him.

Vil is so unfamiliar with the way you treat him. Tenderly, and softly, like he's something that needs to be taken care of. You don't put him on a high shelf like a trophy, but carry him at your side, like a beloved doll.

He's never been at the receiving end of such consideration.

On the days where it feels as if the world is coming undone around him, he has somewhere to go. A place to hide, where he can forget all that he's supposed to be, and just simply be instead.

You are a home to him.

Vil knows that the both of you are perfectly capable (exemplary, even) at minding yourselves, though that's exactly what makes this tenderness you share all the better.

Independence is a gift, though one that he'll gladly set aside for a time, to be alone and soft with you.

4. Keeping Up.

Some days, it feels as if he's hanging onto you for dear life.

Afraid that if he looks away for even a moment, you'd vanish, leaving him alone with all of his naive, shallow thoughts on what his soulmate should be.

You're a dream to him. Far better than anything he ever could have asked for, or even imagined. He would be a fool to let you get away, he knows as much.

And perhaps he doesn't have the words to express it yet, perhaps he does. Perhaps these thoughts of his are tucked away in a journal, imbued in the lines of a poem, or in the color choices of a floral arrangement. Perhaps he whispers them to you in the early hours of the morning, still caught in that dreamlike space between sleep and wake.

One thing has become clear to him, though: Vil could never adequately describe all that he wants in a soulmate.

You're far too complex to put in a single sentence.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #queued

[aquagirl1978]

💐 Harri fluff pretty 🙏 please with strawberry milk on top

(Have you considered that one can probably taste the strawberry milk after kissing harri? *sighs as I stare wistfully into the distance*)

Love <3 V

Thank you @vioisgoinginsane - I had a lot of fun writing this and hope you enjoy it!

To Catch a Thief

A/N: The first fic in my Naughty or Nice event and my second entry for An Invitation to Crown hosted by @judejazza Pairing: Harrison Gray x Reader Prompt: play fighting Word Count: 730 Tags: fluff

“I have a problem and I was hoping you could help me,” Harrison said, plopping into the seat next to you on the couch.

“Good morning to you, too,” you replied, not looking up from the book you were reading.

“Morning,” he muttered as he ran his hair through his hair. He leaned a bit closer to you, dropping his voice. “I’m trying to catch a thief and I could use your help.”

“Oh?” You put your book to the side and stared into his mint green eyes, suddenly intrigued. 

“Yeah,” he continued, “I went to the kitchen just now, looking forward to drinking my strawberry milk. And could you believe it, but there was none left. Someone here drank the last glass, knowing that that was my milk.”

“The nerve of them!” You gasped dramatically at his predicament. “Whatever shall we do?”

“I have a list of suspects.” You raised a brow, curious to know who made the list. “Will loves strawberries, so he would be a prime suspect –”

“Except he’s not here now,” you chimed in.

“Exactly. You’re very observant. Alfons isn’t back yet either, so he’s off the list.”

“What about Jude?” 

“While he’s rude enough to commit such a crime, he’s not a fan of milk. I think we can safely cross him off the list.”

“Victor?”

“Nah, he’s more of a tea and scones guy for breakfast. Elbert probably hasn’t left his room since last night, admiring all his stuff.” Harrison sighed, truly perplexed. “That leaves Roger, Liam and Ellis.”

“Ellis does like sweets.” 

“Another excellent observation. He’s possibly our prime subject right now.”

“I’m glad we were able to sort that out.” You smiled smugly at Harrison, pleased you were able to help him. 

“Yeah, well, there’s another problem. Ellis isn’t here either. Some kind of early morning emergency that Victor assigned to him.”

“So then it has to be Liam or Roger.”

“That would seem to be, but there is one other possibility we haven’t explored.” Your eyes widened when he said your name. 

“Was it you?” he asked softly. “I won’t be mad if it was.”

“No,” you replied, perhaps a bit too quickly. “It wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do such a thing to you. You’re my boyfriend. I love and adore you and know just how much you like your strawberry milk.” You flashed him the sweetest smile as you rested your hand on his knee.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t drink my milk,” he replied with an even sweeter smile.

“It wasn’t me,” you repeated.

“Of course, it wasn’t. I was silly to even question you.” He cupped your cheek and caressed your skin softly with his thumb. “I think you deserve a reward for helping me.”

He leaned closer, his lips barely brushing yours. “Is this a suitable reward?” he whispered. Your breath hitched as he covered your mouth with his in a kiss. Running his fingers through your hair, he held you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue probing your lips. With a soft sigh, your lips parted, inviting his tongue to sweep your mouth.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss, his hand cradling your head. His eyes met yours and he smiled.

“I knew it was you the whole time,” he admitted quietly.

“What? How?”

“I had my suspicions, but you should know better than to lie to a fox.” Your face fell; he saw through your earlier lie. “That and…” He brought his mouth to yours and nipped your lip. “I could taste the strawberry milk.”

“That was evil.” You grabbed a nearby pillow and hit him on the shoulder with it. Gently. 

“It's what you deserve for drinking my milk,” he said, laughing. Grabbing a pillow of his own, he swatted you back. Not so gently. 

Peals of laughter filled the room as you took turns hitting each other with the pillows. That is, until Harrison grabbed your pillow and tossed it to the side, leaving you defenseless. He pressed his body against yours, his lips dangerously close to yours. Your eyes drifted shut as your lips moved closer to his, eager for his kiss. 

His hand ran down your ribs, his fingers brushing against your most ticklish spot. Your eyes flew open. 

“You wouldn’t,” you hissed.

“Well, I am a villain,” he said with a wicked laugh.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @themiscarnival   @coral-relevium @cyberk1ee     @kookie-my-little-sunshine @pathogenic       @ellisgivesmelife013 @ikemen-writer   @nightghoul381 @judejazza @xbalayage @xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia @ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia @lunaaka @ikesenwritings @starlitmanor-network

#naughty or nice #invitation2crowncc #ikemen series #ikemen villains #ikevil #harrison gray #ikevil harrison #ikemen fanfic #ikevil fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic #starlitmanor-network

[jakeyt]

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

[tac-the-unseen]

JUST READ THE COD GANG REACTING TO READER FALING AN ORGASM SO WHAT IF READER ADMITS THEY NEVER HAD ONE BEFORE?????? LIKE- NEW RELATIONSHIP??????? SORRY FOR CAPS IM ECSTATIC RN BC UR WORK IS SO GOOD🫶🫶🫶🫶🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌

COD characters finding out that Reader's past lover(s) have never given them an Orgasm.

Am I exactly sure what Anon is asking? No, But I will persist.

I'm choosing to write this with the interpretation of Reader never having an orgasm even though they've had sex with others. (The other way I read it was that Reader just flat out never had an orgasm before, and I think that's extremely unrealistic. So we're going with that one) ALSO because of the prompt You and the guys have yet to bump uglies!

Ghost:

•Simon is a little confused "Like...None of them?"

•He takes it very seriously

•He asks you to elaborate a little more. He just wants to know if the other guys sucked (or just didn't in this case) or if you two needed to do something specific in order to please you.

•He understands if you need some kind of accommodations and will ask you what he needs to do

•You and Simon have a long discussion over what you want your first time with him to be like. He makes sure you both have a clear understanding of what's to come (ha).

Soap:

•First thing he says is “Would you like to?”

•He thinks it's a little funny but really sad too

•”Darling, you're too pretty to let subpar men just use you.”

•He immediately wants to show you how it's done and what you've been robbed off

•He asks if he can take you for a “good ol' mustache ride”

Price:

•”Young men are dumb.” He says and takes a drag from his cigar

•”But I guess it's nice to know I have no competition.” He smiles

•He does talk to you about your needs and what he needs to do to meet them properly

•He takes you out on a nice dinner date, goes on a nice walk with you, and end up with his hands wrapped around your waist taking you home

Alejandro:

•Can not stop laughing

•As soon as you tell him he erupts into a fit of giggles. He takes him a full 3 minutes before he calms down enough to hug you and pat you back.

•”You poor thing.” he chuckles and kisses your cheek. “I'll make sure to make up for all their failures, Mi querida.”

•He’ll ask you what they were doing down there the whole time. Which leads to even more laughter when you tell him.

•”But I think I should buy you a nice dinner first.” he winks

Roach:

•Stunned

•Absolutely floored

•”Like never?” He signs. You can see the horror in his eyes

•He’s got his head in hands, contemplating life. He's so concerned for you. He has to take a moment of silence to comprehend the level of incompetence the men in your life must have had.

•When he finally sits up he looks you directly in the eyes and signs “Thank God I'm good with my hands.”

Gaz:

•Slowly turns his head to look at you with his brows furrowed and confusion

•Is too shock to speak

•He gets up to pour himself some Scotch

•”How many times have you had to fake an orgasm?” “8” he proceeds to down the entire drink and pour himself another

•This time he hands it to you “You need this more than me.”

Rudy:

•He gets up and takes a lap around the house

•When he gets back he pulls you into a hug

•”You deserve so much better, Mi Tesoro.”

•Kisses your jaw and runs his hands down your back. “I can give you so much better.” He tells you in-between kisses

•He offers you himself until your properly satisfied, for however long that takes

König:

•”Why do you like incompetent men?”

•He means it in a genuine way, But he accidentally reads you to filth.

•”Why spend your time and affection on someone who cannot please you?” he asks. “I didn't want to seem shallow.” You replied. “Shallow? Liebste, No.”

•He practically scolds you for allowing such men into your life. It's actually the most you've ever heard him speak. Which really tells you how upset he is.

•”You're Lucky I'm here. I will not let such things happen ever again.”

•And fuuuck, he means it

Mace:

•”Other men are filthy animals.” he tells you like it was a normal thing to say

•He gets in close to you and rests his arms on your hips. “Don’t get me wrong, I'm a man whore.” He laughs lightly and kisses you “But you knew that.”

•He asks you for all the funny details and thinks it would make a decent bonding experience.

•He tells you about his less than great sex stories and failures

•”Rest assured sweetheart, I'm a pro at making people scream.”

Thanks for reading <3

(I realize now that I wrote them all in different mindsets of this prompt... Good luck with that, I guess)

#cod mw2 #x reader #reader #mw2 #cod #fluff #könig #fanfic #mace cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #alejandro vargas #rudy parra #colonel könig #gary roach sanderson #kyle gaz garrick #ghost x reader #soap x reader #könig x reader #mace x reader

[paradiseprincesss]

hopefully this isnt much of an ask but would you be willing to make a jonathan crane x coworker!reader where we sort of intimidate him and or tease him and its kinda like enemies to lovers can be smut or not thank you!! :)

after hours - jonathan crane x reader

i saw this request and i was like...i fear this concept ate. i fw it!! this was fun to write - i got this finished within a few hours cause i was like whewww okay i like it. i hope u enjoy this anon! <3

song: after hours by kehlani

summary: you work as a nurse (take a guess at what i major in...it had to be done. i saw an opportunity and took it.) at arkham asylum, and there's one person you work with that you just cannot stand - dr. jonathan crane.

warnings: smut 18+ minors dni!!, swearing, kissing, p in v, just general smut but also fluff hehe

you threw your car in park, your favourite colour water bottle in hand as you got out of the car in your scrubs. you had thrown your hair up in a claw clip that matched your water bottle, feeling cute - and made your way into arkham asylum.

you'd just started working at arkham - you were a new grad nurse, and you were excited! the pay was pretty high in comparison to other places that were hiring, i.e the hospital, so you jumped at the opportunity.

your coworkers and colleagues were all super sweet, and you were navigating your first few days around at work with ease, fitting right in and learning more and more every day on the job.

as you got to the staff room, you placed your bag in the lockers and headed off to the nurses station. you skimmed through the papers littered on the table to see what you were assigned to do today, and noticed you were most likely going to be having a relatively chill day. it seemed that you were just going to be shadowing one of the psychiatrists today and learning more about acute patient management.

"morning," your co-worker who happened to be the night shift nurse, said to you as she approached you at the counter, "i'm going home now, but i couldn't help but notice dr. jenson wants you to shadow dr. crane today instead of assessing and monitoring patients." she tells you, taking in a sharp breath.

she seemed to notice the look of confusion that washed over your face and quickly clarified. "not that that's bad in any way! i just figured she would want you to be doing what you usually do since in the few days you've been here, you've been doing so good. dr. jenson is really impressed. you know, you're really great for a new grad nurse." she laughs softly.

"oh, well, i'm glad to hear that - thank you. i try." you say, smiling brightly, "i haven't had a chance to meet dr. crane yet, actually. i know he only works with...specific patients and stuff." you say to your colleague.

jonathan crane was known around the asylum as a rather brash and cold individual. he wasn't super friendly, and often kept to himself and worked tirelessly with the patients that were under his direct care. he was the acting chief of psychiatry at arkham and hardly had the time to socialize and mingle with the other staff members.

"well, good luck with that." your co-worker said as she collected her keys and waved goodbye to you before you had a chance to ask her what she meant by that.

suddenly, you heard a smooth voice say your name from behind you - and you turned around to see a tall man, around 6'2, with cerulean blue eyes and glasses, wearing a suit, tie and what appeared to be a sweater vest staring at you with a clipboard in hand.

"i'm doctor jonathan crane." he says flatly, introducing himself. you smile at him softly, and politely introduce yourself.

"i'd rather not waste time on small talk and introductions, i am fully aware of who you are." he says condescendingly, wiping the smile right off your face.

you say nothing in response, too embarrassed by his sharp tone and direct words - and you follow him as he gestures you to do so.

so much for a good first impression.

for the entirety of your shift, he just talked down to you. made it his personal goal to make you feel shitty about yourself; explaining things to you as if you didn't just spend the last four years of your life suffering through nursing school just to be told you didn't know what you were doing.

it was agitating - infuriating, really. you did know what you were doing. your higher ups even told you so - unfortunately, jonathan was the higher ups to your higher ups, so there wasn't much you could do.

you would do something and he would find a way to criticize it. you would finish giving medication to a patient, and he would scoff as if you were stupid. you would monitor patients and chart everything with accuracy, and he would tell you that you weren't doing it properly.

it frustrated you terribly, but to no avail, he never changed his ways. and honestly, he was the only one complaining! dr. jenson would never criticize you like that, in fact she always said that your performance was phenomenal.

you and your co-workers theorized that he may even be jealous or intimidated by you because you were such a diligent employee, especially for someone so young - and you seemed to do everything with ease.

but you never quite understood why he would feel that way, though, since the two of you had totally different roles and careers.

and that's how the first few weeks of working on shift with dr. crane was. since the two of you didn't work side by side constantly - hence you having two different occupations - you would sometimes get a break from his condescending attitude and harsh words. but over time, you'd come to almost enjoy the push and pull dynamic between the two of you - but you doubted that it was mutual.

yes, the first month or two was rough - he was a straight up piece of shit to you, but over time, it seemed he had laid off of being mean...partially. he was still sarcastic and full of attitude, but you would sometimes notice that it seemed lighthearted in nature, even if he didn't say it aloud or tried his best to hide it.

today, you came into work as per usual, but you were working rotating night shifts so you it was a little less hectic than usual. as you finished charting a patients vitals, you heard footsteps approach from behind you in the quietness of the upstairs ward.

turning around, you saw a sleepy dr. crane.

"hey," you say to him, "you're still here? it's almost 10. i thought you would've gone home by now."

he scoffs at you (as per usual), and throws a stack of paper on the nearby desk. "if you haven't noticed, i'm the acting chief psychiatrist here - i have a plethora of staff and patients, amongst other things, to manage and attend to."

you just shake your head with a small laugh, taking your latex gloves off, and offer him a teasing response. "i know that, calm down. it's not that serious - it was just a question, dr. crane."

a few months ago, you would have never talked to him in such a way, but now, you felt comfortable doing so. the dynamic had shifted between you - it was one of those love-hate relationships.

"god, you are insufferable." he groans.

"and you're stuck up. like genuinely." you retaliate, a small smile playing on your lips. he doesn't care to respond, and just scoffs once more, picking his papers up and seemingly heading out for the night.

you didn't see him for a good three weeks after that, but now you were back on your normal dayshift schedule, and you saw him in the middle of your shift as you were returning from a patients room after administrating some medication.

"jesus, jonathan, watch where you're going!" you exclaim, as he almost walks straight into you, aquamarine coloured eyes focused on the stack of patient forms in his hand.

he looked at you and grimaced. "you watch where you're going - you're the one holding the syringe in your hand. and here i thought you'd be one to know about work protocols." he sneers, and you huff. "god, you're insufferable." you say, mocking him.

he shoots you a dirty look, and you smirk. "hit a nerve?" you ask innocently.

"i could fire you right now if i wanted to." he says angrily, but you just laugh softly as you make your way down the hall, brushing past him to dispose of the syringe in your hand.

later that day, as you were getting ready to head home from your shift, jonathan came up to you in the staff room.

"i'd like to speak to you in my office, if you would please come with me." he informs you curtly, and you raise a brow.

"my shifts over, i don't work after hours." you flatly say back, and he scoffs. "don't get mouthy with me, i can assure you it'll take a few minutes at most."

you let out a dramatic little "ughhhh," and place your bag down, following him to his office. as you went into his office, you noticed the way it looked - dark. the blinds were closed, lights slightly dimmed, and all the future seemed to be in a dark oak colour. various degrees with his name were framed on the wall - his bachelors, masters, and doctorate all hung up proudly.

"quite the collection you got there, but a little excessive, don't you think?'' you tease, as you sit in a chair opposite of him at his office desk. "very funny." he deadpans, and you smirk. "what did you need to talk to me so urgently about?" you ask, but what he said next shocked you.

"i'm giving you a raise." he says plainly, and your jaw drops. you thought he fucking hated you - or at least found you painfully annoying.

"a-a raise?" you stammer, looking at him with surprise. he sighs, and nods. "yes, that is correct."

"don't get me wrong - i am so grateful, but why? you always...put down my work. criticize everything i do." you say, a nervous laugh escaping your lips.

"i just- i just wanted to push you. i could see your potential." he says a little awkwardly, looking away.

"oh, i see." you say quietly, and he gets up the filing cabinet in the corner to sift through what you assumed were patient files.

"that's all. feel free to go." he says, tone gaurded, but as you got up to leave, you felt the sudden urge to stop in your tracks.

"wait- no. i still don't understand." you say, and he lets out an irritated sigh, staring at you with files in his hand. "i'm sorry - did you want me to take your raise back?" he asks rudely.

"i-i just don't know why you're so mean to me if my performance is so...good." you explain meekly, and he lets out another frustrated huff. "i told you, i was pushing you because i saw your...p-potential." he says, but you caught how he faltered at the end of his sentence.

"did you just stutter?"

"i will take back that raise. don't tempt me."

"tell me why you're so mean to me."

he stays silent for a moment, taking a few steps closer so that he was now standing towering over you. but he speaks up again, tone sharp and defensive. "are your cognitive abilities failing you? have you not heard what i've been saying? i said i saw potential-"

"that's such bullshit!"

"why does this bother you so much?"

"answer me!"

"i'm telling you i saw potential-"

"god i hate-"

but before you could say "you," his lips were crashing onto yours, and you melted into the kiss instantly, wrapping your arms around his neck. neither of you broke away, and the kiss deepened as he picked you up and placed you on top of his desk, holding your waist with a soft grip and your hands started to intertwine into his hair.

the two of you made out for a few minutes as he had you on his desk, but it didn't last long because both of you were just so fucking pent up. neither of you really hated each other - you just both found one another annoyingly attractive.

as he pulled away from the kiss, you wasted absolutely no time getting him out of his suit jacket, and quickly undid his tie as he took the top of your scrubs off.

"sorry." you suddenly say, and he looks at you confused. "what?"

you look down at the bra that you were wearing - it was kinda boring, you thought. just plain and black. "i didn't expect to be sleeping with my boss who hates me so i didn't really um...prepare?"

he just scoffs and continues to get you out of your clothes. "god, you truly are insufferable." but this time, it wasn't the same tone he usually took with you - no, it was different. it was for sure different. it was almost...loving.

he quickly unclasped your bra after fumbling with it for a few seconds. that was so him.

as you sat there on his office desk, in just your panties, you felt a little self conscious - you couldn't lie. subconsciously, you tried to cover up with your arms, but he stopped you.

"you're perfect - stop." he says softly, and you swore you saw him blushing. you didn't say anything back, but you slowly put your arms down and he took a deep breath in at the sight.

"beautiful." he whispers, before kissing you once more, sliding down your panties and fumbling with his own belt buckle. after a few mere moments of getting his pants off, his cock sprung free.

you pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, and he took this opportunity to snake his hand behind your neck and softly hold onto your hair, pulling your head back to look at him.

he used his other hand to line up the head of cock with your now soaking cunt, and paused before looking back at you, cheeks tinted a rosy pink.

"tell me this is okay." he whispers, and you roll your eyes playfully. "oh, c'mon-"

"no. i'm your boss and i'm aware of the power imbalance between us. i need you to tell me that this is okay, sweetheart." he says to you, teasing your folds and making you moan.

"didn't take you for that kind of guy," you try to keep your composure, "but y-yeah, it's okay."

as you gave him the green light, he plunged his cock into you slowly, giving you time to adjust. as he stretched you open on his thick cock, you moaned and he cursed under his breath - your warm, wet, velvety walls sucking him in.

"oh fuck." you moan softy as he started to move slowly, as to not hurt you, wanting to be gentle. "i didn't know a cunt could be so tight-" he chokes, letting out a shaky breath.

"mmm- deeper, please." you whisper breathlessly, and he fucked you harder, deeper - faster.

you were a moaning, withering mess for him as his name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he moaned your name right back to you. "jesus - you feel amazing." he praised, and your cheeks burned at his sweet words.

the feeling of his cock plowing your tight cunt was dizzying, you could've sworn you almost felt him in your stomach. the both of you were breathing heavily and moaning, becoming a mess for the other.

"feels so good, don't stop." you moaned as kissed down your neck, biting occasionally, leaving marks. his grip on your hair tightened, and he pulled your head back a little further, giving him better access to your neck - to mark you as his even more than he already was.

"j-jon-" you pant, "i-ah, i'm gonna cum!" you say, and he speaks lowly by your ear, "cum all over my cock, fuck- you're so beautiful."

the tone of his voice, the words he was saying, the way he was fucking you - all of it was too much, and suddenly, you were squirting whilst screaming his name.

"oh sweetheart," he exasperates, looking at you in awe, "fuck, that's so hot." his thrusts sped up significantly, chasing his own release and you felt yourself whimper from the overstimulation.

"gonna cum-" he pants, and you pull him closer. "cum inside, please." you beg, and he grips your hair with such force it almost hurts. "a-are you sure-"

"yes!" you moan, "j-just fill me up, please jonathan-" you say, clinging onto him for dear life, and his thrusts came to a still as he groaned, hot cum spilling deep inside of you.

he doesn't move just yet, still staying buried deep in your cunt - making sure you take every last drop of him. his fingers ghosted over the marks on your neck, a small smile tugging his lips, making you smile back at him dopily with a sigh.

"so this is what you get up to after hours." you tease, and he captures your lips in a soft kiss, making you moan in surprise.

after a moment, he pulls back, still smiling softly at you - looking at you like you were an angel that fell straight from heaven into his lap.

"never, sweetheart," he says, feigning offence, "i was too busy fantasizing about you - too busy falling in love with you."

and with that, he pulled you into another deep kiss with his hands wrapped around your waist, making your heart melt - because you loved him too.

#cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane x f!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #dr jonathan crane #cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x female reader

[traumxrei-archive]

【 vi. sun-soaked laundry 】

summary: yuu spends what was supposed to be a languid afternoon amidst the debutante preparations trying to find their missing maid, silver ^^

word count: 1.3k

author’s note: i love silver <3 maid silver was so fun to write, so i hope you enjoy ^^

[ the perfect debutante series | or read on ao3 (coming soon) ]

It wasn’t often that one of their maids went missing. There was an occasion of it at times; Kalim would get too engrossed in polishing ornaments, or even Jade being late to his duties after visiting the greenhouse.

But the one maid that went missing most often was Silver. But Silver was never late when it came to his duties watching them at their office. His family was a knight’s family, and they raised him with the convicition to serve his Master wholeheartedly, and that included watching over them and protecting them from harm.

“It’s rare that he’s this late,” Yuu mumbled, tapping the side of their glass. The clear sound rang around the empty room. Silver had been missing for almost thirty minutes now. They weren’t doing much for the Debutante, they had finished most of their work and coordinated with the head butler for the surprise they were planning to be delivered soon. They thought they would have to hide it from Silver, but they didn’t have to…considering he wasn’t even here.

Yuu finally stood up, popping their head out of the room. They found an unsuspecting Floyd walking down the hall, carrying what looked to be new sheets for their room.

“Oh! Mas~ter,” Floyd grinned, abandoning his path to talk to them. “What’re you doing? Playing hide and seek?”

“Floyd, have you seen Silver?” Yuu asked, shrugging on their coat.

“Eh~ Jellyfish is missing~?” Floyd tapped his chin, shuffling the sheets into one arm. “Last I saw he was carrying a buncha napkins outside. Suppose he’s on laundry duty.”

“Thanks Floyd,” Yuu patted the taller on the shoulder. “Good luck with the sheets.” They quickly found their way through the halls. Maybe Silver had fallen asleep doing his laundry duties? It wasn’t the first time that Silver had fallen asleep doing his chores, but they were just a little worried. If he had fallen asleep outside, wouldn’t he get sick? Silver would be more than disappointed if he was sick and not allowed to participate in the Debutante.

It didn’t take Yuu long to find the maids’ quarters, getting pointers from a bewildered Azul towards the clothing lines. The wind kicked up the ends of their coat as they stepped outside, and they could see the rows of laundry unfolding like a maze in front of them.

Yuu crouched down, scanning the surroundings for anything that looked…

“Silver,” Yuu murmured, spotting his shining hair from underneath the hanging tablecloths. They made their way over, quieting their steps as they got closer. There dozed Silver, curled up next to a pile of folded napkins. Some birds seemed to have gathered, settling on Silver’s shoulder and leaving as they approached. 

They breathed out a sigh of relief, before sitting down on the grass next to him. Silver’s ribbon laid askew, the lace so very close to slipping off as he slept. Yuu reached out, touching the end of the ribbon before—

A hand grabbed their own. Yuu gasped, looking up to see auroral eyes staring owlishly at them. 

“M-Master?” 

“You…you’re awake?” Yuu asked before dropping their hand. “Sorry for startling you, I…”

“It should be me apologizing,” Silver immediately let go of their hand, before rubbing at the place where he held it. “My apologies, does it hurt? Did I…hurt you, Master?” 

“No,” They blinked, feeling warm as Silver continued stroking their wrist. “I’m alright.”

“But why are you…? Ah,” Realization dawned on Silver’s expression. “I have done you a great disservice, Master!” Silver made a move to kneel, and Yuu grabbed at his shoulder.

“Silver,” They huffed, gently pushing at the maid to sit. “It’s alright. I know you are all working hard for the debutante. And besides, it was just my afternoon free time. It’s not a reason to get your dress dirty over. Plus,” They tilted their head to the view; of white sheets fluttering in the wind, the colors of sunset painting the skies in reds and oranges. “It’s prettier out here.” 

“R-Right,” Silver looked down at his hands, his ribbon slipping once more. Yuu’s fingers twitched before they decided to reach out for it. They tugged at the end, causing it to loosen completely, falling into their palms. 

“Hold still,” Yuu murmured, getting up slightly to position the ribbon in a better way. “What were you doing out here?”

They brushed Silver’s hair back as he answered, “I was taking down the napkins for the debutante. They would fly away in the afternoon winds.” Yuu sat back down, admiring their work. The ribbon was now perfectly placed, silvery hair peeking through the lace in a mesmerizing way.

“Do you need help taking down the tablecloths too?” Yuu asked, and Silver’s face contorted into a frown that made them laugh. “Come on, let me help you out, for once.” 

“But Master…” The conflict played out on his face plainly. “This isn’t a job that you should concern yourself with.”

“This is something for the debutante though,” Yuu reminded, before getting up. “Alright, the quicker these are down, the quicker we can get inside.” They reached for one of the washing pegs before hearing a long sigh.

Silver had gotten up, his skirts brushing his sock garters, “At least let me take them down, Master. We can do the folding together.” They grinned at that. Others might call them a bit spoiled for pushing their maids around like this, but well…they didn’t quite have the relationship everyone else had with their own maids. To Yuu, the maids weren’t just servants, they were friends. Lifelong friends who they cared about deeply. And besides, there was no harm in working together, right?

It didn’t take too long to fold the table cloths, and with each cloth that passed, the frown on Silver’s face eased away. The maid was quite handsome when he wasn’t frowning, if Yuu were to say it themself. Actually, Silver was princely in general. Especially with his values and dedication to follow the knight’s code. But…he was also quite princess-ly. With how animals thrived in his presence, and how he matched any accessories he wore. He was just very regal, they decided.

Yuu ended up sitting on the grass again, the view of the house unobstructed by sheets this time. Silver seemed to be fiddling with the napkins, and they were content with just sitting there. It had been a while since they just sat around outside without thinking about their duties. 

“Master,” Silver’s voice brought them back, and something soft was thrust into their hands. “Here.” 

They looked down to see a napkin folder into a flower in their palm, “How’d you make that?”

“Well, my…father, he knew a lot of party tricks,” Silver said, as he picked up another napkin. “He was banned from the kitchens— for good reason— but in that time he amused himself with folding napkins into certain shapes.” Silver tugged at the napkin, and Yuu ooh-ed as a napkin bunny appeared in his hands.

“That certainly is a flashy way to present napkins,” Yuu laughed softly. “Would it be possible to make the napkins into bird shapes for the Debutante?”

Silver blinked, “Is that your wish, Master? Because if so, I, Silver, vow to carry it out in your honor.” And then Yuu realized where they made their mistake. Silver was probably looking for a way to repay the kindness they had shown him today, and they had simply given him the perfect tedious opportunity to do so.

“S-Silver, you don’t have to do it now,” Yuu tugged at his arm. “The sun’s set, we should go inside and have supper.” 

Silver nodded, staring at the darkened skies, “Then, Master, you should go back first. I should finish at least 100 before supper starts.” An aura of determination seemed to ooze from Silver’s figure. 

“That’s not what I meant!”

thank you for reading ^^ if you’d like to read more, check out my masterlist ! like the art ? look at more of dumple's works on insta !

[ prev chapter | series post | next chapter ]

#/trau writes #silver my beloved #he’s just a little guy #twst silver #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst silver x reader #silver x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Temptation and Need

Summary: Can Y/N tempt Dean into what he needs?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Unprotected P in V sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, very brief m receiving), face-sitting, cum shot, overstimulation, big age gap (21 and 43), dirty talk, dub-con (sort of - the reader not taking no for an answer), masturbation, voyeurism (very brief), use of a vibrator, spanking, (brief), pussy slapping (brief).

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 3,895

A/N: A million years ago (okay, last December) I got a request from a lovely anon asking this:

hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap with dean winchester where the female!reader is like in her 20s and dean's is his 40s :) just some rough smut with like hair pulling where dean asks for her to sit on his face or something like that (if you're comfortable with it) and just dirty talks cause I absolutely love them haha :) I really love your writing btw!!!! thanks a lot <3

It took me about four and a half months to get to this, but it's finally here! Thank you so much for this request, hope you're happy with it Nonnie. And I hope everyone else who reads it enjoys it too. ❤️

Master List || Dean Winchester One Shots || Tag Lists

Y/N had known it would be good - no - amazing. Since the first time she’d laid eyes on Dean Winchester six months earlier, she’d wanted to feel him beneath her, above her, behind her, inside her. She’d wanted him any and every way she could have him.

She simply needed him with the heat of a raging fire that never cooled.

So she’d imagined this moment for more than a hundred nights, and she’d known it would be incredible. But her imagination had been woefully inadequate.

She’d been attempting to seduce Dean the entire time she’d known him. She knew that he knew how much she wanted him, but he’d been reluctant. Every time she sidled up close to him, he’d moved away. Any time she put her hands on him, his heart kicked up so she could feel it pound, and if she got close enough she could feel the hard evidence of his desire press against her. But inevitably he would gently lift her hands off of him and give her a look of warning.

“Stop this, Y/N.” He’d scold with heat pooling quick and fervid in his eyes.

One time he’d given her a look of exasperation and then scowled at her. “I’m too old for you dammit. I could be your father.”

She bit her lip and smiled, full of mischief, as she’d answered. “Well, I’m happy to call you Daddy, if that’s what you want.”

It was true that she was just barely twenty-one and Dean was forty-three, but she didn’t care. In fact, she’d always preferred older men. Men like Dean had experience and stamina, they knew just what to do to pleasure their partner. She’d never slept with anyone less than a decade older than her. Some people might say she had daddy issues (and maybe she did) but she didn’t care what other people thought - she pursued her own pleasure.

Yet in spite of plenty of sexual experiences with older men, despite all her fantasies about Dean, she’d never imagined this level of pleasure.

***

A few hours earlier:

Dean fell onto the library chair, closing his eyes with a groan and dropping his green duffel bag at his feet, just as Y/N walked into the room. 

“You’re back!” She called excitedly as she hurried towards him. “How was the hunt? Where’s Sam?”

Dean grunted as she hopped into his lap. His feet were planted on the ground, and he was slightly slouched in the chair creating the perfect seat for her. His long, muscular thighs rippled beneath her, and as she wiggled against him, she felt the telltale sign of his desire as the bulge at the front of his jeans hardened slightly against her thigh.

The muscle in his jaw jumped as he gave her a scolding look. “The hunt was long and bloody, but fine. It's finished anyway. And Sam is with Eileen."

She ran her finger across the small abrasion on his cheek. "Well, at least you're less beaten up than usual." She said with dubious cheer.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, it was a walk in the park. Now get off my lap so I can go take a shower.”

She nodded and slid off so he could stand, but when he moved off towards the showers, she followed. When he arrived at the shower room door, he turned to look at her standing close behind him. He gave a sideways nod towards the door.

“This is as far as you go, sweetheart.” He said with a raised brow; his gaze turned knowing as she pouted.

She tried for her most convincing tone. “But just think of how much more enjoyable it would be if I came in with you.” She could see in his eyes that he was thinking about exactly that scenario.

But he shook his head. “No. It’s late, you shouldn't have waited up for me. Go to sleep.”

She pouted some more and then sighed before giving him a winsome smile and a wink. “Yes, Daddy.”

Dean scowled at her but she just stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before slowly backing away. 

“Goodnight, Dean. I’m glad you’re home. I sleep so much better when you’re here.” She said truthfully.

He gave her a nod and then walked into the shower room. She heard the lock click and she sighed. Another night with nothing but her fantasies to sustain her. 

She went to her room and got ready for bed, slipping on the AC/DC t-shirt she’d stolen from Dean. He knew she had it, he’d seen her in it, but he’d never demanded it back. 

She crawled into bed and tried to go to sleep. But she was restless, her body aching in a way that wouldn’t end without Dean between her legs. 

Her skin was flushed and the soft wool blanket she was covered with irritated her overheated flesh until she threw it off of her. She brought her hands up to cover her face; she knew she wouldn’t get to sleep unless she did something about the longing that had overtaken her body.

So she rolled over and pulled open the bottom drawer of her bedside table, pulling out the modest-sized vibrator she kept hidden in there for nights just like tonight. Since moving into the bunker a few months ago, nights like tonight happened pretty much every night. 

She leaned back against her pillows and let her mind drift, allowing images to flash into her mind’s eye. Dean’s face, set in lines of intense desire; his hands, strong and hard, warm and rough, moving over her body. 

She slipped her hand past the waistband of her panties, letting her middle finger swirl around her clit, desperately trying to imagine it was Dean’s thick, blunt fingertip pressing against her.

After a few minutes of bringing forth endless hot and decadent images of Dean into her head, she turned on the vibrator and let it press against her clit a moment or two before sliding it through her dripping slick, and pushing it inside. 

As she fucked herself with the toy, she kept Dean’s body in mind - his powerful muscles and solid bulk - imagining him hovering above her. She worked at it for a long time, desperately seeking her release. 

But though she moved the vibrating silicone cock fast and hard in and out of her quivering cunt, she just couldn’t find it. After half an hour of coming so close, but constantly missing the mark, Y/N was whimpering and more frustrated than she could express. 

In desperation, she began to chant quietly, imagining that Dean was there with her and could hear her need. “Dean. Dean. Fuck me, please. Ugh, I need you so badly, I fucking need you.” Her voice crescendoed in a moan of disappointment as her orgasm stayed just beyond her reach. “Dean.” She whined as she bucked her hips desperately.

Suddenly she heard her door squeak open, making her squeal and rip the vibrator out of her body, shock coursing through her, making her heart pound. But then she fell completely silent as she saw Dean standing silhouetted against the hallway light.  

For a moment or two neither of them moved. Finally, Y/N turned off her vibrator and silence reigned. 

Dean finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I heard you. Heard you calling my name.” 

He took a step inside her room; she could see now that he was dressed for sleep, sweats and no shirt - she gasped softly at the incredible view of his wide chest, his shoulder muscles flexing as his hands balled into fists. She could also make out more of his face; it was set in harsh lines, the muscle in his jaw flexing over and over. He licked his lips and her pussy clenched.

“Why were you calling me?” Dean asked, though he had to know the answer as she still gripped the vibrator, and the scent of her dripping sex perfumed the air. 

She could sense that the cord that bound them, that had been pulling them together and apart since the day they met, was about to snap - if she could just say the right words.

She went with the truth.

“I was calling out to you while I fucked myself. I was imagining it was your cock buried deep inside me, imagining your hands on my skin, your lips on my throat.” Dean’s eyes were blazing emeralds with dark onyx pupils spreading across them as she spoke.

“But this thing wasn’t cutting it.” She said, lifting the vibrator and then dropping it on the floor beside the bed. “I need the real thing.”

She pushed her feet into the mattress and opened her knees wide, pushing her hand into her panties once again as she stared at him. “I need you, Dean. Please.”

The cord snapped and Dean charged forward, stopping at the end of her bed and grabbing her ankles to yank her towards him. She gasped as he placed a knee between her legs and rested his weight on his palms as he leaned down to capture her mouth. 

His kiss was hard, desperate, almost violent, as he crushed her lips and stabbed his tongue into her mouth. She moaned at the weight of him pressed against her, lifting her hips slightly so she could press her aching cunt against his thick thigh. She groaned harshly into Dean’s mouth as the pressure caused an even hotter fever to rage across her body.

Dean pulled out of the kiss and stood up, taking hold of her hands to pull her into a sitting position. His chest was rising and falling with deep breaths as he grasped the hem of his stolen t-shirt.

His voice was all growl when he spoke. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt about ripping this fucking t-shirt from your body? How many mornings I had to sneak away to the shower to jack off like a fucking horny teenager, after seeing you parading around in it? It barely covers your ass, and every time you’d bend, even a little, I could see a glimpse of your little cotton panties, or sometimes, just your bare ass in a thong.”

His voice was slightly dark, a rebuke in his words. “I knew you were doing it on purpose, of course, knew it was your way of trying to tempt me into fucking ruining you.”

He yanked the t-shirt up over her head as a moan escaped her. Dean groaned too as he got his first look at her. “Fuck me.” He said quietly. 

He looked her in the eye as he reached out and roughly tugged on her puckered nipple. She cried out, her head dropping back, as she arched her chest forward.

“God damn, baby, you really do want it, don’t you? I thought it might be a game you were playing, but you really do want me to ruin this hot little pussy.” He reached his hand down to rub against her soaked panties. “You want that, baby? Huh? Want me to fuck you sensless? Till you can’t walk? Can’t think?”

Y/N nodded disjointedly. “God yes.” She whispered, grabbing his wrist to try and press his fingers harder against her cunt. “Please. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Dean knocked her hand away and grabbed both her wrists tightly as he used his body weight to push her back onto the mattress. He stared at her, making her feel like he could see straight through her. Finally he spoke, his voice softer.

“How much experience do you actually have, Y/N?”

She shook her head to dispel any worries. “Enough. I’m no virgin, and I know what I like.”

His mouth lifted slightly at the corner. “And what do you like, baby?”

“I like it rough and hard, but I’ll take some soft wooing too.” She said with a grin. She shrugged. “Basically, I like you - a lot - and whatever you have in mind, I’m down for.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, but give me a safe word, just in case.” He kissed her softly. “I won’t take any chances with you.”

His concern for her made Y/N’s stomach flip in a pleasant way. She smiled. “K, how about ‘shenanigans’?” 

Dean chuckled. “Perfect.”

His smile faded as he bent his head to kiss her again, slowly this time, thoroughly, as though he didn’t want to leave an inch of her mouth unexplored. When he pulled away, leaving her gasping for air, he slowly kissed a path down her body, between her breasts, stopping to nip and suck on her nipples, pinching one and then the other, before trailing his lips down over her belly.

When he reached the apex of her thighs, he got off the bed to kneel at the foot of it, pulling her panties down over her legs and tossing them aside. He reached forward to wrap his arms around her thighs, spreading her open and pulling her to his mouth. He made a deep, guttural noise as he sank into her cunt, immediately licking and sucking on her sensitive skin, so that she was writhing beneath him almost instantly. She called out his name in desperation as she sank her fingers into his short hair, tugging slightly when he speared her with his tongue.

He pulled away from her and licked his lips free of her juices. “Fuck, yeah baby, say my name again, just like that.” 

He let go of one of her thighs so he could bring his hand between her legs and slap it hard against her pussy. Y/N gasped and then her hips bucked as he did it again.

“You’ve been a naughty girl with this fucking pussy, haven’t you? Pushing this dripping mess against me every chance you got. Fuckin' rubbing on me, and constantly begging me to fuck you.”

He smacked her a third time and Y/N felt her cunt throb with a deep ache. “Fuck, Dean yes! I’ve wanted you to fuck me, wanted you to take me apart for so fucking long. Please, please! Bury yourself so deep in me.”

She screamed in pleasure as he rammed two fingers into her, knuckle deep. As he crooked them forward inside of her, he leaned down to flick his tongue against her clit, making her rear up off the bed. She was so close now. She could feel the tension in her body just on the verge of snapping, when he suddenly pulled back from her, removing his fingers and causing her to wail and plead.

“No, please, Dean. More.” She whimpered pathetically as he stood up.

But then he pushed down his sweats and she caught sight of his cock for the first time. It was long and thick, just as she’d known it would be - everything about Dean screamed, “Big Dick Energy”. It was absolutely beautiful, red-tipped and standing at attention.

She sat up and reached for him, wrapping her hand around the base and sliding her tongue through his slit, licking up the pre-cum that beaded there. Dean stood rigidly, letting her lick at him like a lollipop for a couple minutes more before he pulled her hand away. 

“That’s enough for now, sweetheart.”

She pouted at him, but he just leaned down to grasp her waist, lifting her slightly and tossing her further up the bed. She gasped at the pleasure of being manhandled like a rag doll. He was on his knees as he moved towards her. He grabbed hold of her calves and flipped her over onto her stomach before smacking her ass once and then twice.

She moaned and instinctively lifted her hips, pushing her ass towards him for more. 

He slapped her again, and then ordered her, “Get on your knees, and lean forward to hold on to the headboard.”

She did as he said, grabbing on to the rails of her headboard tightly. He pushed her thighs apart before turning to lay on his back underneath her, pushing her knees open even further with his wide shoulders. 

Y/N was surprised; she’d thought he was getting her into position so he could take her from behind; instead she looked down to see his beautiful face positioned directly below her dripping cunt. 

“Sit on my face, baby. Fuck yourself on my tongue. Ride me.”

Y/N moaned as he lifted his head slightly so he could lick up through her folds. He dropped his head back to the mattress, though, and his voice was hard when he spoke. 

“Now.”

Despite all of her experience, Y/N had never been ordered to sit on a man’s face, and had never had oral sex this way. At first she was worried that she could hurt him, so she just lightly gyrated her hips against his mouth. But after a minute or so Dean grabbed onto her thighs and spoke angrily.

“I said sit, not float.” His hands pulled her down, forcing her to rest heavily against his face, so that she was truly sitting on it. His nose rubbed against her clit and Y/N couldn’t help grinding down against his mouth. His tongue delved deeply into her cunt, stabbing in and out of her entrance. 

Very soon Y/N was truly fucking herself on his face, using the strength of his jaw and the slide of his lips to create otherworldly sensations. Every once in a while she’d lift herself slightly to check that Dean was okay, but he’d always growl and pull her back down. 

Finally she could feel her orgasm growing inside her, felt the coil low in her stomach tightening almost to the point of pain, but then it burst open and she screamed as she rocked her hips and slammed herself down against Dean’s eager mouth as he slurped up everything she gushed onto him.

Aftershocks of her climax along with Dean’s probing tongue and plump, sucking lips, brought on two more mind-blowing orgasms. It felt as though she’d been edging herself for months and was now finally free to let go; her whole body trembled as Dean finally pushed her back and then rolled her under him.

Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked down into Y/N’s face; she knew she must look strung out, and she could feel unconsciousness creeping in. Dean must have seen it too because he shook his head and swiftly shoved three fingers into her cunt making her come alive again with a shout.

“No way, baby. You didn’t spend all these months begging me to fuck you, just to get off with coming a couple times and falling asleep. I want you fucked out completely. I want you stupid and useless beneath me. I want to fuck you so long that you’re just a boneless, lump of cock slut laid out on the bed.”

As he finished speaking he pressed his middle finger against her clit and that pressure, combined with his filthy words, was all it took to have her shouting out her ecstasy once again.

As she was coming down, Dean slammed himself into her, forcing her clenching walls open so her cunt could squeeze him tight as he sheathed himself inside. He pushed her knees wide open, keeping her feet in the air as he jackhammered into her. He slammed so hard and so deep, she knew he’d leave marks. 

And she knew she’d never experienced anything like it, nothing in her past, or even in her fantasies had prepared her for this level of raw passion and need.

She came two more times as he fucked up into her; he changed up his rhythm, going from hard and driving to slow and sensual as the mood suited him. By the time he flipped her onto her stomach Y/N did indeed feel boneless and stupid with pleasure.

“Please Dean.” She begged softly, not actually aware what she was asking for. 

“Come on baby, I didn’t say we were done, don’t give out on me now.” Dean said harshly as he lifted her hips. Her knees rubbed against the sheet, but really she was being held in place with Dean’s strength.

“I’m gonna make sure you’re seeing stars.” He told her before slamming her back onto his cock, drilling even deeper inside than he had before.

Y/N gasped, her pussy was so overly sensitive after being fucked for so long, but she couldn’t escape the intense rush of pleasure that came as Dean slammed his cock against her sweet spot deep inside her.

“Fuck, yes.” She mumbled into the pillow where her face was buried. 

“Yeah, that’s right baby.” Dean rammed into the spot again, making her scream, her throat raw from all her screams of pleasure. “Take every fucking inch. This is what you’ve wanted for months, isn’t it? Spent every minute I’ve known you trying to get us right here, haven’t you?”

He dropped one of her hips so he could spank her right cheek hard, watching it jiggle. “Answer me!” He demanded as he spanked her again before grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head up and back. “Tell me how much you’ve wanted this, little slut. Admit to prancing around this bunker, desperate for me to pin you down and fuck you just like this.”

“Yes!” Y/N gasped as he pounded into her over and over, never losing rhythm or strength. “Yes, fuck, yes.” It was all she could get out. She was truly exhausted, but she still chased the high he was raising within her with every thrust.

He spanked her again and then reached his hand around so that he could push against her throbbing clit. It took only a few circles with his finger, and a few more hammering thrusts before she shattered into a million pieces, seeming to shake and shiver forever.

As she came back to earth slightly, she could feel Dean pulling out of her. “I’m gonna come baby. Can I come on your ass?” She nodded and mumbled out a “yes.”

She heard him grunt obscenely, and despite her liquefied bones, her pussy still clenched at the sound, before she felt his sticky seed spurting across her ass, and lower back. He bucked forward, his thighs slapping against her ass as he shot another load, warm and wet, onto her skin.

Finally he fell to the side, and Y/N let her knees give out beneath her as she fell onto her stomach in complete exhaustion and immediate unconsciousness. She woke some time later to feel Dean wiping her clean with a warm cloth and pressing kisses up her spine.

When he saw her eyes flutter open, he tossed away the cloth and laid down beside her, kissing her nose and her cheek before pressing his mouth gently to hers. 

“You were so fucking perfect, Y/N. Everything I’ve dreamed about night after night.” He shook his head. “No, you were even more perfect than I imagined, so much more.”

She smiled softly and raised an eyebrow. “So you agree? You were an idiot and we should have done this so much sooner?”

He scoffed. “N’ah, it was perfect this way, at this time. But it’s gonna be even more perfect next time.”

Y/N grinned at him and tried not to be too obvious about how thrilled she was that there was going to be a next time. 

“I don’t know.” She teased. “You’re gonna have to try hard to do better than this.”

Dean grinned wickedly. “Challenge accepted.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

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#dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fan fic