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everytime u update loves never meant that much to me i scream
this made me kick my feet and giggle thank you so muchh! ive been shit with updates (and requests) because im in the middle of my finals but trust after im done ill be giving my full commitment to the series <33
you wake up feeling like someone stuffed cotton behind your eyes. your mouth tastes weird. there’s morning light shining directly on your face, and for a few long seconds you can’t figure our where you are.
then your back starts to ache, and you realize you’re on the floor. one of your legs is tangled in a blanket that smells like someone awfully familiar.
cassie.
you sit up too fast and immediately regret it, your head pounding from last nights drinks.
“fuck,” you whisper, pressing a hand over your eyes.
memories of the night before come back wrong. a bit bent around the edges. your boyfriend confessing to you that he finds you difficult, you storming out onto the deck, cassie appearing behind you and then everything after dissolves into static.
you look around slowly, your pounding head trying to piece the clues of where you were together. not your room. definitely not your room.
there’s a duffel bag next to the dresser. you spot black jeans thrown over a chair, and silver rings lined up on the nightstand. your stomach drops.
“oh my god.”
you look beside you quickly, but the space was empty. cassie wasn’t laying next to you, she wasn’t even on the bed.
before you could stop yourself, your brain gives possibilities faster than you can stop it. thoughts of having sex with cassie flooded your mind, but no, no, you’d remember that. wouldn’t you?
it takes everything in you to push yourself up, still wrapped halfway in the blanket, and stumble toward the door.
the energy in the cabin is quieter than it was last night. you can hear soft chatter downstairs, cabinets opening and closing, a coffee machine sputtering.
“you sleep well?”
cassie stood at the end of the hallway holding a mug of coffee. her hair was wet and pulled back messily, dark circles under her eyes like she barely slept. she’s already dressed, in a white shirt and blue jeans.
“yeah, uh,” you rub at your forehead. “why was i sleeping on your floor?”
cassie looks down at her mug. “well, you were drunk. you had an argument with your boyfriend.”
“right.” you whispered, then paused looking down at your feet then back up at her. “did we…like-did something happen?”
cassie’s shoulders tensed. if she told you the truth, there was no going back. and looking at you right now, oblivious and bracing for the worst, a wave of hesitation hit her.
tell her.
tell her i held her wrist against my heart for three hours because i was too weak to push her away.
“cassie?” you spoke, a little more anxious this time. “oh god. did i do something stupid?”
cassie couldn’t look at you now. she had about three seconds to choose her lie or her truth.
“no,” she says quickly. “no, nothing happened.”
a lie that tasted weird on her lips, the same lips that remembers yours from a couple hours ago. the same lips that kissed her first, tasting of everything that was bound to ruin her.
cassie’s body close to yours while you curled beside her on the floor sometime after three in the morning, your voice wrecked with sleep when you whispered
you don’t have to leave me behind to fix yourself, cass. you can change, but you can still choose me
“you needed somewhere to sleep,” she says.
you stare at her for another second, trying to read something in her face, you nod, a wave of relief washing over you as you take her word for it. you actually believe her. you think you just fell asleep.
“okay,” you breathe, offering a small smile. “good. i was worried i made a fool of myself.”
“never,” cassie says, her thumb tracing the ceramic rim of her mug over and over, trying to forget the exact pressure of your lips against hers.
-
after taking a hot shower to help relax your muscles, you find your boyfriend in the kitchen downstairs digging through the cabinets when you finally decide to rejoin society.
he looks like he’s had a rough night as well. his hair was sticking up everywhere, and he was wearing sunglasses indoors like an idiot.
he spots you immediately, and his entire body stills. he’s frozen mid reach, one hand gripped around a box of cereal, the dark lenses of his sunglasses completely hiding his eyes, but you can feel the exact weight of his stare anyway.
he slowly lowers the cereal box onto the counter, his movements stiff, like he's trying not to make any noises that might hurt his own head.
“morning,” he says. he doesn't move towards you, just stays near the kitchen counter, watching you hover until you land near him.
he clears his throat, trying and failing to look casual. “you, uh... you want some water?”
you don’t respond.
parker, who was sitting on the kitchen island eating cereal, slips awkwardly past you and disappears outside the second she sensed the tension.
your boyfriend exhales through his nose. “where did you go last night?”
“i don’t think i owe you that answer.”
his face pinches. “are we still doing this?”
“you talked about me like i’m some kid. so yeah, we’re still doing this.”
“i was drunk.”
“and?”
“and you were yelling at me,” he snaps, his voice rising enough to make him wince.
“you’re unbelievable,” you scoff.
“i don’t even remember half the fight.”
“well, i do.”
that finally gets him to look at you properly. he reaches up, pulling the sunglasses off his face with an annoyed grunt, letting them drop onto the counter with a clatter.
there’s something in his face. not remorse. more like irritation that this is continuing into the morning, that he has to deal with the consequences of a night he already crossed off.
“you can’t say shit like that,” you say quietly, the coldness in your voice surprises you. “and then expect me to excuse you because you had a couple drinks?”
he laughs quietly, looking away toward the window. “okay.”
“no, seriously. you’re a piece of shit.”
he doesn’t speak, he doesn’t defend himself, he doesn’t even move. the only sign that he heard you was the way his bloodshot eyes slightly squinted.
“a piece of shit,” he repeats. his voice is flat.
he takes a step back, leaning against the sink, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. there’s no apology in his posture. he’s just digging his heels in, the irritation turning into something bitter.
“i was drunk, you were drunk. we had an argument. it happens. but you have to turn it into some grand act because god forbid you ever just let something go,” he says, a humorless smile at the corner of his mouth.
before you got the chance to respond, cassie walks around the corner, stopping short at the sight of the both of you.
she takes in the scene, you standing by him, your boyfriend holding the edge of the sink with his jaw clenched.
“oh,” cassie says, her eyes darting between you and him. she holds a set of keys, her fingers wrapping around them to stop them from jingling. “sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt. i was looking for my jacket.”
your boyfriend blinks, his face going back into something softer than the glare he had on. he clears his throat, as if he hadn’t just been on the verge of a rage fit.
“hey,” he says. “no, you’re fine. we were…getting breakfast started.”
cassie doesn’t look at him. her eyes lock onto yours, checking the look in your eyes, silently asking if you were okay. she stays right where she is.
“actually,” cassie says, keeping her gaze on you, “i was hoping you'd come up and help me look for it?”
“yeah, of course,” you say.
you don't look back at your boyfriend as you move away from the counter. you walk right past him, your shoulder barely missing his, but you can feel his eyes burning into the side of your face. he doesn’t say anything to stop you.
cassie steps back into the hallway to give you space, then turns to walk beside you as you head toward the stairs. she keeps her pace matched to yours, her shoulder brushing against yours as you climb up.
when you finally reach the top of the stairs, cassie stops in the hallway, looking at you.
“you don’t actually have to help me find the jacket,” she says quietly, so your boyfriend wouldn’t be able to hear. “i know where it is.”
“i figured.”
“i heard what he said,” she says with no hesitation in her voice, no carefulness around your relationship status. “he’s a jerk.”
“yeah. i told him he was a piece of shit”
“you did?” cassie’s eyebrows shot up, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“yeah.”
“good.” she says softly, reaching out, her hand hovering before her fingers gently catch your sleeve, tugging you toward her room. “come here.”
she pulls you inside and shuts the door behind you. the room is exactly how you left it a few minutes ago, the blankets on the floor where you layed with cassie still there.
cassie doesn't go back to the bed. she stays by the door, leaning her back against it, watching you as you sink down onto the edge of her mattress.
then she walks over, sitting down on the floor right in front of you, crossing her legs.
“are you okay?” she asks, looking up at you.
“i don’t know,” you shrug.
your mind tugs at the blank space in your memory again. the blurry image of her face close to yours, the smell of her shirt.
“cassie,” you say, her name slipping out before you can stop it.
“yeah?”
“are you sure nothing happened last night?” you look at her closely.
cassie freezes. she doesn’t look away, she never looks away, but her throat moves as she swallows.
“you don't remember,” she says, her voice almost a breath. it’s not a question.
“i remember some bits,” you admit, your heart starting to hammer against your ribs. “i remember being on the floor. i remember... getting closer to you. did i do something?”
cassie feels her heartbeat everywhere at once.
she should tell you.
she should just tell you the truth. you kissed her. your hands were shaking when you did it. you looked at her like you were terrified of still wanting her and did it anyway.
she knows exactly what happens if she says it out loud. the night comes ripping back open and every old wound with it. every moment the two of you spent pretending this thing between you was manageable as long as nobody acknowledged it directly.
you barely survived it the first time.
neither of you did, really.
her mind flashes to the feeling of your mouth against hers, soft for a second before it became desperate. like you were trying to say something you didn’t know how to say sober.
and god, she wanted to answer you.
what if you regret it, if you pull away, apologize, decide it was just the alcohol, cassie genuinely doesn’t think she can survive reopening this just to lose it again.
so she lies to you.
“we just talked. you were really upset about the fight, and you fell asleep,” she says easily, reaching out and giving your knee a reassuring squeeze before pulling her hand back. “that’s it. i promise.”
a knock on the door interrupted the moment, your boyfriend’s voice from the other end made cassie back away from you.
“babe? can we just go home? we’re both exhausted. let’s just get in the car and talk about this on the way back.”
cassie looks back at you. “you don’t have to go with him.”
“unfortunately, i live with him,” you say, eyes dropping to your hands.
“no, i mean i can take you home,” cassie offers, lowering her voice so your boyfriend wouldn’t hear the two of you talking.
“but what about your–”
“this isn’t about her, she’s not even my girlfriend,” cassie interrupts and studies your hesitation for a moment. “you can say no.”
“i don’t know if it’s a good idea. i mean i haven’t-we haven’t been around each other for longer than an hour in years.”
“you can say no.” cassie repeats.
you look at her then, really look at her. the way she was sat in front of you silently wanting you to say yes and be hers again even if it’s just for a couple lf hours.
“okay, yes,” you nod quicker than expected.
“baby?” your boyfriend calls.
cassie gets up and heads for the door, pulling it open and watches the way your boyfriend straightens up at the sight of her. “i’m driving her back.”
her lets out a dry laugh. “thanks cassie but we live together. so i don’t really see the point in that.”
“i don’t want to get in a car with you,” you say, feeling the coldness returning to your body.
“come on baby,” he steps forward, his face pinching with irritation. “you’re going to make a scene over a stupid argument? come on. let's go home.”
cassie steps right in front of him. “you heard her. she he just said no. if you want to go home, go. she can crash at my place tonight.”
your boyfriend stands dumbfounded, looking from cassie, to you, and back to cassie.
“when did you two get so close?” he asks, his voice dropping.
when did you two get close? it feels like a trick question. two years ago. a humid month in a beat up car, driving through state lines until we ran out of road and ended up in a motel.
i spent months putting myself back together after she hurt me, eventually finding something stable, with the man standing waiting fir me now.
and yet, looking at cassie right now, the anger and the memory of that abandonment are fighting with the realization that even after two years of silence, one night on her floor was all it took to pull you right back into her orbit.
cassie had spent those two years pretending she didn’t regret it. hut seeing you end up with a guy like this who makes you look this small is a sickening mirror. cassie knows she doesn't have the right to be the protector here. she knows she gave up that right the second she walked out. but looking at the exhaustion in your eyes, she realizes she’d rather face the wreckage of your past than let you spend one more night with a man that didn’t deserve you. even if she didn’t deserve you either.
you boyfriend scoffs and looks past cassie's shoulder, trying to lock eyes with you. “you're going to crash at a stranger’s house because of a stupid argument? grow up.”
“fuck you. i am grown,” you say, your voice finally finding its stability, shaking just enough to betray the adrenaline spiking in your veins. “that's why i'm leaving.”
“fine,” he snaps. “go. play whatever little game you're playing. but don't expect me to be waiting around when you realize you're being ridiculous.”
he doesn't wait for a response. he storms back into the hallway. the heavy thud of the front door slamming shut echoes through the house.
and then, it’s just the two of you.
you look at cassie's back, your heart hammering against your ribs.
cassie slowly turns around to look at you.
“my car's out back,” she says quietly, her voice now soft in a way that always undid you. “let's get your stuff.”
-
you lean your head against the cold window and watch buildings streak by. the adrenaline from earlier has burned out of your system, leaving nothing behind except that awful hurt spreading through your chest.
“you can take the bedroom tonight,” cassie says so quietly you almost miss it. her eyes never leave the road. “i’ll sleep on the couch.”
“cassie, no.” your voice comes out raw. “it’s your house. i can take the couch.”
“i’m not making you sleep on a couch,” her tone stubborn and soft at the same time. “let me do this. please.”
you swallow the lump in your throat, looking over at her. she’s being good to you and it only drives you more into confusion.
“you didn’t have to do that,” you whisper.
cassie’s thumb twitches against the steering wheel. “do what?”
“taking me home. defending me against my boyfriend.”
cassie slows the car as she approaches a red light, bringing it to a stop. finally, she turns her head to look at you. it was the exact same look she gave you before she opened the door to leave you two years ago.
“i wasn't going to let him talk to you like that,” she says, her voice low.
you let out a breath, looking away from her, back out at the road.
“what, you’re like some savior now?” you whisper, anger running through your veins.
cassie doesn't step on the gas even when the light turns green, letting the car roll on momentum.
“i’m not trying to be a savior,” she says. “i’m trying to be a friend.”
“is that what we are? friends?” you laugh. you turn in your seat to look at her, your chest heaving.
cassie’s grip on the wheel turns white. she pulls the car over to the curb, hitting the hazards with a click.
when she finally turns to look at you, her eyes are swimming. the facade she wore in front of your boyfriend is gone.
“you think i didn't care?” she asks. “you think walking away didn't hurt me? i was terrified. you were getting under my skin in a way that scared the hell out of me, and i ran. it was stupid, and i have spent every single day since then wishing i had just stayed."
she takes a shaky breath, her stare locked onto yours.
“but seeing you with him? seeing you let some guy make you feel like you're a burden for existing?" she says. “i couldn't sit and listen to it. i couldn't. call me whatever you want, hate me for what i did, you have every right to, but don't you dare tell me i don't care about you.”
your heart is hammering so hard it hurts your ribs. the air in the car is thick with the unsaid. you stare at her, your vision blurring as your tears spill over.
“i wish you’d stayed as well,” you choke out. “but you don’t get to come back two years later and tell me how hard it was for you to leave me.”
“i know," she whispers. “i know. i'm sorry. i'm so sorry.”
“i built a whole new life just to forget you,” you say, your voice a desperate whisper, your hands gripping the edge of the passenger seat just to keep from reaching for her. “ i found someone safe. and now i'm sitting in this fucking car, and it feels like all that progress didn't even happen.”
she looks at your mouth, and for a second, the space between you vanishes.
she wants to tell you. you can see the truth fighting its way up her throat. she wants to tell you that you didn't forget her, that your body remembered her even when your mind couldn't, that you kissed her and begged her to stay.
but she forces the truth back down. she protects the lie, even as it chokes her.
“this doesn’t have to mean anything,” she whispers, her hand trembling as she reaches across, her fingers hovering above your knee, desperate to touch you.
you look down at her shaking hand, leaning your head back against the glass of the window, feeling defeated.
“just drive,” you whisper into the cold glass. “cassie, please. just drive.”
-
the rest of the drive was a blur, you spaced out for the entire way home. a part of you was anticipating getting a glimpse of cassie’s life, she was so closed off you barely knew anything about her, going to her house and staying there might give you hints on who she really is.
when she pulls into the driveway of a small house on the edge of town, she kills the engine.
“we’re here,” she says softly.
you get out of the car, grabbing your bag from the backseat. cassie leads the way up the porch steps., she pushes the front door open, expecting a house where everyone is away.
she thinks her son is at her parents' place for the weekend. she thinks she has time to hide her life, just like she always does.
she’s wrong.
the smell of waffles and maple syrup hits you. from the kitchen down the hall, a little voice cuts through the house.
“mommy!”
cassie freezes in her tracks. the keys slip from her fingers, clattering against the floor.
before she can move, a boy with wide eyes comes running around the corner, a toy clutched in his hand. he stops short when he sees you standing in the entryway, blinking up at the stranger in his house.
you stop breathing. because he looks like her, he has her eyes. not exactly, but enough to make something cold settle in your stomach.
the boy blinks at you curiously. “who’s that?”
cassie still hasn’t moved.
“hi baby, can you go back into the kitchen for me?” she says, but her voice comes out thin and fragile.
“but-”
“please.”
cassie looks like she’s about to faint. her chest is heaving, her eyes darting from her son to you, her hands shaking, she can’t even pick up the keys she dropped. the carefully constructed wall she built around herself, has collapsed.
a man appears behind him a second later, older, tired looking. probably cassie’s dad.
“harrison,” cassie chokes out. she drops to her knees, her hands gripping the little boy’s shoulders, partly to hold herself up and partly to turn him away from the look on your face. “sweetie, go back into the kitchen with grandpa for a second, okay? mommy has a friend over.”
“come on,” cassie’s dadsays gently, taking his hand. “let’s go eat.”
the little boy pouts but lets him pull him away.
you can't breathe. your lungs feel like they're full of glass. you stand paralyzed by the doorway, your hands gripping the strap of your bag.
you step back, your heel hitting the front door. you look at cassie, and it feels like you're looking at a complete stranger. every memory, every tear you shed over her leaving you, it all feels dirty. It all feels fake.
“i can’t–i can’t be here,” you manage as you frantically turn around to open the door and escape this hell.
“no, wait please,” cassie slams her hand on the door trapping you between her and the door behind you. “please listen to me.”
“how old is he?” you asked.
“what?”
“how old is he?”
“five,” cassie breathes out, closing her eyes.
which means when you met her two years ago, he was already there. three years old somewhere while you and cassie drove across state lines and slept in cheap motel rooms and built something you thought was real.
you laugh once under your breath. “this is fucking crazy.”
“please–”
“you have a kid,” your voice trembling. “and you never said anything.”
“i know how this looks,” cassie’s face crumples.
“how this looks?” you stare at her. “what the fuck is wrong with you, cassie?”
“i didn’t know how to tell you.”
“how do you not mention something like that?”
“i was scared,” she bites her lip as tears start to well up in her eyes. this the most vulnerable you’ve seen her and it was taking everything in you not to just hold her.
“of what? me finding out you had a life outside of me?”
“no,” cassie looks at you, eyes red and desperate. “of you seeing what my life actually looked like.”
you didn’t know what to say, you just kept staring at her.
“i was scared, that you wouldn’t have wanted me anymore if you found out.” she swallows hard. “if you knew i had a kid, if you saw what my life actually looked like, you would’ve left.”
something sharp twists in your chest.
“how do you know that?” you ask immediately.
“look–”
“no,” you step closer before you can stop yourself. “how the fuck did you decide that for me?”
“you were twenty one.”
“so?”
“you were free!” her voice cracks slightly. “you could’ve had anything. anybody. why would you tie yourself to somebody with a kid and baggage and–”
“i didn’t want anybody! what don’t you understand?” you snap. “i fucking loved you, cassie.”
“no, you don’t mean that,” she says quietly. “love is stupid, it’s not enough. people say it when they’re lying. or cheating. or about to leave.”
she wipes at her face. “eventually it just starts sounding like something people say to make themselves feel better.”
“and you think that’s what this was?”
“no.” her voice breaks slightly. “that’s what made it scary.”
you don’t know what to say to that.
because the issue isn’t that cassie didn’t love you enough. it’s that she loved you so much and still didn’t believe love could save either of you.
“i did love you,” you repeat, tears burning behind your eyes. “and you just decided that for me. you decided i’d leave before i even got the chance to stay.”
cassie shakes her head immediately.
“you don’t understand–”
“no, i don’t understand,” you say. “because i spent so long thinking i wasn’t enough for you. thinking there was something wrong with me. and the entire time, you were sitting here convincing yourself i would’ve stopped loving you because what? you had a kid?”
“i was scared.”
“so was i!” you almost yell, your eyes locked on cassie’s red face.
cassie presses the heel of her hand against her mouth, trying unsuccessfully to hold herself together.
“you don’t get it,” she whispers. “people look at you differently after stuff like that. after becoming somebody’s mother. it’s like…” she laughs bitterly through tears. “it’s like they stop seeing you as a person first.”
your chest aches so badly it feels unbearable.
“so you thought i’d stop seeing you too?”
“i was ashamed of myself,” she says through tears. “if i stayed, eventually you would’ve seen the rest of my life. the ugly parts. the hard parts and i couldn’t survive watching you realize i wasn’t what you thought i was.”
“you should’ve let me decide that,” you whisper.
cassie nods slowly without looking at you.
“i know.”
the kitchen gets louder for a second, harrison laughing at something on TV, cassie’s father talking softly over the sound of dishes.
normal sounds. real life sounds.
it made you feel suffocated, like the walls were about to crush you in.
“this feels fucking humiliating.”
cassie drags her hands down her face and takes a shaky breath.
“let’s sit down,” she says weakly.
you wanted to laugh. instead, you drop your bag by the door and follow her into the living room, sitting next to each other on the couch. neither of you look at each other.
“i hated you for a while,” you admit. “i mean really hated you. i thought you used me and got bored. and then i thought maybe i imagined the whole thing. like maybe it meant more to me than it did to you.”
“no,” she says too fast, her eyes welling up with tears again. “it wasn’t nothing. it was never nothing.”
your chest tightens so hard it pisses you off.
“then why did you leave?”
cassie leans her head back against the cushion behind her.
“because i went home.”
“what does that mean?” you frown slightly.
“it means reality came back.” she wipes under her eyes with her sleeve. “i got home and harrison ran up to me and wanted cereal and cartoons and my dad was asking if i’d finally gotten my shit together and suddenly the entire trip felt insane.”
you don’t say anything, deciding to stay quiet and listen to her.
“i remember looking at you asleep that last morning,” she says softly. “and all i could think was, that you were just a girl and you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.”
the word girl stings more than it should. she said it like you were just some kid to her. cassie notices immediately.
“i don’t mean–”
“no, it’s fine.” you look away. “i get it now.”
“that’s not what i meant.”
“you were right though, weren’t you?” you ask quietly. “you were older. you had responsibilities and a kid. i was just…” you shrug helplessly. “some twenty one year old who fell in love with the first person who made her feel like she’s worth something like she’s finally seen.”
”don’t say that, you made me feel seen too,” she says firmly, even with her tears. the sincerity in her voice makes your stomach turn. because you believe her. that’s the problem.
you believe every word she’s saying and you still don’t know if you can forgive her.
the kitchen door opened and both of you look up immediately. cassie’s dad steps halfway into the hallway, hesitating when he sees your red faces.
“harrison wants to know if your friend likes waffles,” he says carefully.
cassie looks mortified.
you actually almost laugh this time. not because it’s funny. because the situation is so painfully human that your brain doesn’t know what else to do with it.
cassie covers her face with one hand. “dad, please.”
“what?” her dad says gently. “the kid’s asking.”
before you can think too hard about it, you hear yourself say.
“yeah. i like waffles.”
cassie looks at you immediately. a stunned look on her face. her dad nods once before turning around to disappear into the kitchen.
“i’ll make another plate,” he says softly.
“you don’t have to stay,” she whispers.
“i know.” the two words feel heavy in your mouth.
“but you are.” it’s not a question. it’s a quiet observation, her gaze dropping to your hands on your knees, then back up to your face, searching for a hint of the anger that was just there.
you swallow hard, the muscles in your throat tight. your hand twitches against your jeans.
“i think so.”
cassie’s eyes fill again at that, the tears welling up and spilling over her lower lids before she can even blink. the raw look on her face is too much to look at, too real.
almost.
-
the bubble bursts about an hour later.
you’re sitting at cassie’s small kitchen table, staring into a mug of black coffee you haven't touched. cassie’s dad left twenty minutes ago, taking harrison to the park after a conversation with cassie by the back door. the house is finally quiet.
then your phone starts vibrating against the table.
the screen lights up with your boyfriend’s name and his picture. it buzzes three times, cuts off, and instantly starts vibrating again. he’s not letting it go to voicemail.
cassie is standing by the sink, her back to you. the second the phone starts ringing, her shoulders tense up. she doesn't turn around, but you can see her reflection in the window above the sink, her eyes are fixed on the reflection of the phone on the table.
you slide your thumb across the screen and put the phone to your ear. you don't even say hello.
“are you done?” his voice comes through the speaker, entirely stripped of the patience he was trying to fake this morning. he’s back in your apartment, and you can hear the sound of his television in the background. “are you done throwing your tantrum?”
you swallow, your voice feeling small. “i’m not throwing a tantrum.”
“good. then get in an uber and come home,” he snaps. “i’m not doing this with you, babe. i’m not playing into to whatever weird breakdown your having. you left your house keys here anyway, so you can't even get in unless i’m home."
the reminder of the keys makes your stomach drop.
across the kitchen, cassie slowly turns around. she’s watching your face.
“i’m not coming back today,” you say into the phone.
an irritated sigh comes through the line. “fuck. are you serious? over what? because i stayed over at my ex’s house? you’re going to stay at the house of a woman who is a complete stranger to you, because of an argument about something taht happened before we were dating?"
your eyes dart up to cassie. she doesn't move, she looks down at the floor.
“you don't know anything about her,” you whisper, your grip tightening on the phone.
”i know you're using her to avoid fixing your own shit. look, i’m going out with the guys in an hour. if you’re not back here by the time i get home tonight to talk about this like an adult, don't bother coming back tomorrow to get your clothes. i’ll just leave them outside." he fires back, his voice rising.
the line goes dead.
you slowly lower the phone, the silence of the kitchen rushing back in to fill the space.
he didn't just ask you to come home, he drew a line in the sand, using the apartment, your clothes, your entire stable, to force you into coming back.
cassie watches you, her hands flat against the edge of the counter behind her. she looks at the phone in your hand, then up at your eyes.
“what did he say?” she asks quietly.
-
the front door of your apartment was left unlocked.
you push it open and step into the living room. you drop your bag by the door and walk into the bedroom.
your suitcase is in the top of the closet. you pull it down, the heavy thud of it hitting the mattress. you don't even look at the hangers, you just start grabbing handfuls of your clothes from the dresser, shoving them into the open bag without folding them.
then the click of the door lock makes you freeze, a handful of shirts clutched against your chest.
the thud of his boots echoes, followed by the rattle of his keys hitting the entryway bowl. he wasn't supposed to be back for hours, but the silence from the living room tells you he’s alone. and he’s sober enough to be angry.
“baby?”
you don't answer. you stand still by the bed, your heart hammering against your ribs.
footsteps approach the bedroom door. when he steps into the frame, he’s already taking off his jacket, his eyes sweeping over the open suitcase on the mattress, the half empty drawers, and finally, you.
he lets out a mocking laugh, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. “oh, wow.”
“i’m just getting my things,” you say. your voice sounds small compared to how loud your pulse is in your ears.
“i can see that,” he walks fully into the room, you felt like you were being backed into a corner. “look babe you don’t have to–”
“please, you’ve said enough,” you interrupted him, holding a hand up to shut him up. “was i some part of your weird fantasy? of fixing the fucked up girl? you’re only with me because you wanted to prove you could manage or heal me.”
“that’s not what i meant,” he snaps, his hands shoving deep into his pockets as he tries to regain the upper hand. “i was scared of committing. people get cold feet. i didn't hide anything from you.”
“no, you just hid your feelings,” you say, your voice dropping to a whisper. “you sat there and told me i was too much to deal with, because you couldn't handle a real relationship.”
“i came back,” he defends himself. he takes a step back, looking at the messy room. “i put a roof over your head. i’d like to see you go find out how long anyone else puts up with your shit.”
“i don't need anyone to put up with me,” you say, your voice steady despite the stinging in your eyes. “i just need you to get out of my way.”
he stares at you, realizing he's lost his grip on the conversation. with a scoff, he turns on his heel and storms out of the bedroom. the door slams so hard the framed prints on the bedroom wall rattle against the drywall.
you stand alone in the room, looking at the closed suitcase. your chest is aching, your hands are shaking.
and then the sobs catch in your throat, ripping out of you in ugly bursts.
it’s too much. the entire day is just crashing down on you at once, the car ride, cassie’s secret son, and now your boyfriend and this bedroom.
you cry until your ribs hurt, your tears soaking into the dark fabric of your shirt. you’re entirely on your own, trapped on the floor of a home that was never really yours.
you wake up too early the next morning, light cutting through the large windows in your room, making you squint. the bed next to you is empty, you didn’t know if your boyfriend slept up here or spent the night downstairs. assuming he didn’t want to bother you, he probably slept on the couch.
you spent the next two hours flat on your back, staring at the ceiling while your thoughts eat you alive. every time you closed your eyes, you see her again.
it had been a month since you’ve last seen her. thirty days of absolute silence, days that you spent trying so hard to forget about her, just for her to appear again and make all of that progress useless.
you could spend weeks, years even building up your walls, convincing yourself that what you need is your boyfriend and that your life was finally on track, but all it took was one second of cassie being in the same room to demolish everything. cassie still had this hold over you, no matter how many times you tell yourself you’re done.
just knowing she’s downstairs made your skin feel tight. you hated how easily she could throw you off balance without even trying. she hasn’t even said two words to you yet this weekend, and your brain was consumed by her.
by the time you had enough of burning holes into the ceiling with your eyes, you finally drag yourself downstairs.
it smells like breakfast. the scent of pancakes, bacon, and coffee all hit you as you were halfway down the stairs. you spot your boyfriend immediately, standing next to jack, leaning against a counter holding a mug with his two hands.
everything feels normal. you didn’t.
your boyfriend looks up when the stairs creak, a look of genuine relief floods his face.
“hey, baby,” he says, setting his mug down and walking over to meet you at the bottom of the stairs. he reaches out, hands sliding into your hair, thumb rubbing circles on your temple. “how’s your head?”
“much better,” you lie, forcing a laugh. “i need some coffee though.”
“sit down. i made a fresh pot.”
you follow him to the long wooden dining table that was between the kitchen and living room. you sat with your back to the porch door, trying to drown yourself in the smell of the coffee.
the door behind you opened. you didn’t have to look. you knew the sound of her boots.
cassie stepped inside, hair tied back in a loose knot, and her eyes were slightly bloodshot. you naively thought that she might’ve also had trouble sleeping.
she stopped dead when she saw you sitting there. almost like she can’t believe you were actually here and not some fucked up dream she couldn’t wake up from.
“morning,” jack called out from the stove. “it’s freezing out there.”
“it’s fine,” cassie said. she didn’t turn to look at jack, her eyed were still on your back. “i needed some air.”
your boyfriend turned around from the counter, holding a plate of eggs. “hey, cassie. your girl still passed out?”
your girl.
your jaw tightened.
cassie broke her stare on your back, looking at your boyfriend with a flat expression. “yeah. she’s not a morning person.”
you scoff under your breath, but cassie hears it.
“well, there’s plenty of food when she gets up,” your boyfriend said cheerfully. he set the plate fown in front of you, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of your head. “eat up, babe.”
cassie watched the kiss. you turned to look at her then, the way her fingers tightened around her lighter before she shoved it into her pocket.
“i’m gonna take a shower,” she muttered.
you stared down at the eggs on your plate, your appetite completely gone.
-
by the time it was four in the afternoon, someone had dragged a bluetooth speaker out to the deck. the kitchen counter was buried under bags of ice, solo cups, half empty bottles of tequila, and a massive bowl of watermelon slices your boyfriend had cut up with a dull knife.
the cabin had a small pool in the backyard, surrounded by tall pines that blocked the wind.
you were upstairs in the cold bedroom, standing in front of the small vanity mirror. you’d spent the last twenty minutes staring at the bikini you decided to bring, a simple dark purple two piece that tied at the hips. it wasn’t flashy, but it left a lot of skin bare.
you threw an oversized white linen button down over it, leaving the buttons undone so it just hung off your shoulders.
when you walked out onto the back deck, the sun was hitting the water, turning it a bright turquoise against the dark wood of the cabin.
your boyfriend was already in his swim trunks, standing by the grill with jack, a beer in his hand. he looked up when the screen door banged shut, his eyes softening instantly as you walked over.
he smiled, reaching up to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side. “you look beautiful.”
“thanks,” you murmured, leaning into his chest, hand resting on his shoulder.
across the deck, sitting on the edge of a lounge chair, was cassie.
she was wearing a a black bikini top under an unbuttoned flannel, her long legs stretched out in front of her. she was listening to her ‘girlfriend’, who was sitting sideways on her lap, laughing loudly and tracing the line of cassie’s collarbone with a wet finger from her drink.
but cassie wasn’t looking at the women on her lap.
the exact second you stepped onto the deck, cassie’s head had turned.
her eyes scanned you from your bare ankles, up the line of your legs, to the fabric of your swimsuit beneath the open shirt. her gaze lingered on your waist, right where your boyfriend’s hand was against your bare skin. her pupils dilated.
she looked sick with envy.
cassie’s girlfriend leaned down to kiss the edge of her jaw, but cassie didn't even blink. her stare was locked onto you, completely ignoring the girl in her lap. she took a slow sip from her cup, her eyes never breaking contact with yours, her gaze so hot it felt like it was burning the clothes right off your body.
“babe?” your boyfriend’s voice broke through the noise. “you want a drink? jack’s making margaritas.”
“a margarita sounds great,” you replied, your voice s little breathless as you force your eyes away from cassie’s stare.
you stepped away from his arm, needing some space because the air on the deck suddenly felt suffocating. you walked over to the edge of the pool, kicking off your sandals.
“oh, let me help you with that shirt,” you heard someone say behind you. cassie’s girlfriend right behind you.
she reached out and playfully tugged the shirt off your shoulders, tossing it onto a nearby chair. “don’t hide the suit, it’s cute!”
you were left standing in just the bikini. the cool breeze hit your bare stomach, making your goosebumps flare up.
from the lounge chair, cassie let out a rough breath that was audible over the music.
you couldn't stop yourself from looking back. cassie had sat up, her hands gripping the edges of the lounge chair so hard. her eyes were dark, almost black, dragging down the curve of your waist, the tie of your bikini bottoms, the bare of your chest. her gaze practically marking every single inch of your skin as hers.
she wanted you. right there. in front of everyone. in front of your boyfriend.
-
the noise from outside faded the second the door shut behind you. you were just trying to get to the kitchen to grab an extra towel, your skin still tingling from the pool.
you didn’t hear her come up beind you, she was way too fast.
before you could even turn the corner into the hallway, a hand clamped around your arm.
your breath caught in your throat as you were pulled sideways. the door to the downstairs bathroom was kicked open and then slammed behind you, the lock clicking into place with a snap.
the space was tiny, lit only by the afternoon light filtering through a small window.
you were pushed back against the door, your shoulder blades hitting the panels. cassie was right there, crowding completely into your space, her body blocking out the rest of the room. she was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling raggedly against yours.
“cassie,” you gasped, your hands flying up to press against her shoulders to keep some distance between you. “what the hell are you–”
“shut up,” she rasped.
she leaned down, her face just inches from yours, her breath hot against your lips as she tugged gently on the string of your bikini.
“you wear this for me?” she whispered. “huh? you walk out there looking like this because you knew i’d be watching?”
your heart did a dizzying flip against your ribs. you couldn't breathe. you wanted to push her away, wanted to scream at her, but your fingers were already tangling into the fabric of her flannel, pulling her closer because you were absolutely starving.
“cassie,” you breathed.
“i know,” she murmured, her eyes dropping to your mouth. “i know, baby.”
and then she finally leaned down and crashed her lips into yours.
you melted. for one terrifying second, your brain entirely cut out, and your body just remembered her. your hands tightened, your mouth opening under hers, your hips tilted into her thigh, a ruined sound catching in your throat as the bathroom around you dissolved.
then, the muffled sound of your boyfriend’s laugh carried through the window from the deck.
it was like a bucket of ice water poured straight down your spine.
the guilt hit you so fast. shock and adrenaline surged through your veins, and your hands went flat against cassie’s shoulders. you shoved her away. hard.
cassie wasn’t expecting it. she stumbled back half a step, her arms dropping to her sides. her mouth was wet, her breathing ragged, her hair falling wild around her face.
“what the fuck is your problem?” you hissed.
the words came out in a furious whisper, your voice trembling. your hands coming up to wipe your mouth with the back of your arm as if you could erase the taste of her. your face was burning, tears of absolute panic and fury stinging the corners of your eyes.
“are you insane?” you demanded, your throat tight. “what are you doing, cassie?”
“you were kissing me back,” she said, her voice rough.
“i have a boyfriend!” you whispered fiercely, gesturing toward the wall, toward the deck where your life was supposed to be. “and you drag me into a bathroom?”
cassie flinched. it was a tiny movement of her shoulders, but you saw it.
“i told you to leave me the fuck alone,” you whispered, unlocking the door with a shaking hand and slipping out before she could answer.
you walked back out to where your boyfriend was, forcing a smile as you leaned your head against his back. you tried your best to forget what happened five minutes ago, but the knot in your core kept getting tighter.
every part of you was ignited. every time your boyfriend would slightly touch you, you whimpered, getting wetter and wetter.
you couldn't stay out on that deck for another minute, not with cassie’s eyes tracking your every move from across the pool.
you’d mumbled some pathetic excuse to your boyfriend about needing to use the bathroom again, but instead, you practically ran up the stairs to the guest bedroom, your heartbeat hard against your ribs.
you were shivering, but it wasn't from the cold breeze, it was from the heat pooling deep between your thighs. cassie had left you so turned on.
you didn't even take off the wet bikini. your hands were shaking as you slid your fingers under the damp fabric of the bottoms, gasping out loud the second your fingers rubbed against your clit.
you were so incredibly wet. It was embarrassing how quickly your body had betrayed you the second she pinned you against that bathroom door.
you closed your eyes, dragging your hips up as you began to touch yourself, your breathing going short instantly. every stroke made your head spin. you didn't see your boyfriend’s face. all you could see on the back of your eyelids was cassie.
“you wear this for me?”
her rough whisper echoed in your ears so clearly it made your stomach drop. you let out a small whimper into the empty room, your fingers moving faster, pushing harder against yourself. you imagined her rough hands grabbing your hips, ripping the wet strings of the suit apart, and shoving you right back up against the wall.
the heat in your chest built until it was entirely suffocating. you were practically begging for it, your toes curling into the rug as your pace turned frantic, driven by the desperate hunger she had reawakened in you.
“cassie,” you gasped, the name ripping out of your throat right as you hit the edge.
a wave of release crashed through your entire body, making your hips arch off the door as you convulsed around your fingers. you bit down hard on your hand to muffle the loud sob that followed, your chest heaving as the throbbing pleasure shivered its way out of you.
slowly, the quiet came rushing back.
you pulled your hand away, your fingers trembling as you stared at the floor. the absolute horror of what you’d just done settled heavily into your bones. your boyfriend was downstairs, oblivious, and you were up here, touching yourself to the thought of someone else.
-
that night was the closest thing to a disaster possible. everyone was scattered across the floor and the couches, completely obliterated. your boyfriend was sitting right next to you on the rug, his arm draped over your shoulders, his eyes heavy and loose with alcohol. he was downing his drinks with a recklessness you hadn't seen from him in months.
right across from you, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her back against the armchair, was cassie.
she was the only sober person in the room. her glass was filled with nothing but water and a wedge of melted lime. she sat completely still. she had spent the last three hours watching you get wasted.
“okay, let’s have some fun,” jack muttered, spinning an empty beer bottle on the rug. it wobbled and pointed directly at your boyfriend. “drunk confessions. no passes. what is the actual worst thing you’ve ever done to someone you loved?”
a chorus of drunken groans and loose giggles rippled through the room.
you sat frozen, the tequila burning in your stomach, making your head spin in dizzying circles. you couldn’t look at cassie. you could only stare at the glass in your hands.
your boyfriend let out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. he was drunk enough that the usual, careful version of him was gone.
“man,” he muttered, his voice dropping into a tone that made your chest tighten. he didn't look at you. je looked down at the carpet between his knees. “the worst thing?”
“come on, man,” jack egged him on, nodding. “spill it.”
your boyfriend shifted, his arm sliding off your shoulders, leaving your skin instantly cold in the drafty room. “i guess... it was right before we moved in together. about a year and a half ago.”
your head snapped up, the room tilting slightly as you looked at the side of his face.
“i got really scared,” he said softly, a heavy, ugly honesty settling over his features. “the lease was signed, the deposit was down, and i… i freaked out. i went out with some people from my old job, got really drunk, and i stayed at my ex’s apartment. nothing happened, like, nothing physical, but i sat on her floor until four in the morning telling her i didn't know if i could do this. i told her i felt trapped.”
the living room went silent, the humor disappearing.
he finally turned his head to look at you, his eyes red, swimming with a mixture of alcohol and old, rotting guilt. “i never told you. i uh came home the next morning, helped you pack the kitchen boxes, and pretended i was just hungover.”
it wasn't that he had cheated. it was the timeline. a year ago. the exact time you had been lying in that apartment, choking on your own guilt over cassie, forcing yourself to believe that this man was the absolute love of your life because he was safe and honest and good. you had built a temple out of his perfection to punish yourself for your own sins, just to find out that it was a lie.
the room felt too hot, the smell of tequila making you sick, humiliation rushed up your neck.
but you didn't freak out. not here. not in front of cassie, who was staring at the side of your face with a look that could kill.
“wow,” you said, your voice forced and dangerously quiet. you swallowed the lump in your throat and stood up, your knees a little shaky from the alcohol. “i think i’m gonna head to bed.”
“babe, wait–” your boyfriend started, stumbling a bit as he tried to stand up with you.
he followed you up the stairs and into your bedroom. the second he shut the bedroom door behind him, the dam broke.
“are you fucking serious?” you hissed, turning on him, your voice a whisper so everyone downstairs wouldn't hear. “a year ago? you sat on your ex's floor telling her you felt trapped by me?”
“i was drunk, i just freaked out!" he slurred, waving his hands defensively. he reached out to grab your arm, but you slapped his hand away. "it didn't mean anything! i came home to you!"
“i cant believe you right now,” you tried not to scream, the tears burning in your eyes. “trapped? really? am i making you suffer by being with me?”
“you’re being dramatic, babe,” he snapped, his alcohol-fueled frustration finally boiling over. “i never said i was suffering. you were just too much at the beginning of our relationship and i-i didn’t know what–how to handle you.”
how to handle you?
were you so bad that you needed to be handled? granted you did tell him you weren’t ready for commitment when you started dating. but he was so head over heels for you, it felt like it didn’t hurt to try feeling like that again. the same way you felt for cassie.
‘handling’ you made you sound like you were deranged. he was so willing, so patient, and to find out that it wasn’t what he really felt made you want to throw up.
“go to hell,” you choked out. “you’re a loser, a real loser.”
“babe–” he reached out to hold you but you pushed him back.
“i’m not your fucking babe,” you snapped, yanking the bedroom door open, stepping out into the hallway and slamming it behind you. you were so pissed off that the hallway seemed to tilt. you just needed to get away from him.
you stumbled down the stairs, the living room was empty now, and headed straight for the back porch. throwing the screen door open and stepping out into the cold.
the air hit your face instantly, but it didn't stop the burning in your chest. you walked to the edge of the wooden railing, grabbing the railing with both hands just to keep from falling over as the tequila and the shock ran rampant through your veins.
the door opened behind you.
you didn't turn around. in your spinning mind, you thought it was him coming to finish the fight. “go away,” you sobbed. “leave me alone.”
the figure didn't leave. it moved closer, quiet and solid, until the heavy, familiar heat of her body blocked out the wind. fingers wrapped around your upper arms, steadying you as your knees threatened to buckle under the weight of the alcohol.
you squinted, your brain too sluggish and drowned in tequila to register the person. you saw cassie.
“this is the third time you’ve told me to leave you alone. i don’t think i can, baby.”
you laughed.
“you want to know?” you rasped, your breath smelling heavily of alcohol as you looked up at her. you were shaking, your face flushed with heat. “everyone’s... everyone’s telling secrets tonight, right? wanna know what the worst thing i’ve ever done is?”
cassie didn't answer. her grip on your arms tightened, as she watched you break apart.
“the worst thing,” you whispered, leaning in until your forehead nearly touched her chest. “when you kissed me in the bathroom, i went upstairs after and touched myself…thinking of you.”
and before your brain could catch up to your body, you pulled yourself up and crashed your trembling lips right into hers.
the moment your lips hit hers, cassie stiffened. her fingers dug into your arms, she wanted nothing more than to drag you into her and never let go. but then, as you stumbled against her, the scent of tequila rolling off your skin, she froze.
with a pained groan, cassie pulled her head back. she didn't kiss you back. she didn't give in.
“stop,” she whispered. she placed her palms flat against your shoulders, gently pushing you back just enough to break the contact. “stop. you’re drunk.”
“i don’t care,” you sobbed, your head spinning so violently that the deck felt like it was tilting. you tried to lunge forward again, your fingers clawing at her shirt. “cassie, please. just–”
“no,” she cut you off, her tone dead serious. her face looked broken as she stared down at you “i’m not doing this with you like this.”
“i hate you,” you choked out, the words ripping out of your chest before you could stop them. you slammed your fists weakly against her chest, your hot tears mixing with the freezing rain on your face. “i fucking hate you so much, cassie. you ruined everything for me, and now you're here, and he–he lied to me, and you're just standing there–”
“i know,” she murmured.
“i hate you,” you repeated, your voice cracking as your knees finally gave out under the weight of the alcohol.
but you didn't hit the wood. cassie caught you instantly.
she hauled you up against her, her arms wrapping completely around your waist and lifting you against her chest. she didn't care that you were a screaming mess. she just held you.
you pressed your face into the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin, you knew you were lying. you didn't just hate her. you loved her so much it felt like a sickness. you hated her for having this power over you, and you loved her because she was the only person you wanted when everything went to hell.
“i’ve got you,” cassie whispered into your hair, her hand coming up to cup the back of your head, pressing you closer. “just breathe.”
she kept one arm locked securely around your waist, guiding your steps off the deck and back through the side door of the cabin. she practically carried you up the stairs. everything was a blur of shadows until cassie pushed open the door to her bedroom at the very end of the hall.
she led you over to the bed, letting you sink into the thick, dry quilt. the second your weight hit the mattress, the room spun, and you threw your head back against the pillows with a low groan, your eyes squeezing shut.
“sit up,” cassie ordered softly, moving around the room. she came back a second later, tossing an oversized hoodie and a pair of gray sweatpants onto your lap. “get out of those clothes. i’ll turn around.”
you blinked up at her through the gloom, your brain moving like molasses. you looked at the massive bed, then around the quiet, empty room.
“where...” you slurred, your voice thick and rough from crying. you gestured vaguely to the other side of the mattress. “where is your girlfriend gonna sleep? you’re gonna... you're gonna make her sleep on the couch because of me?”
cassie stopped. she was standing by the window, her back to you. a long silence stretched between you. for a second, the only sound was your own ragged breathing.
then, cassie let out a breath that sounded almost like a sigh. she turned around slowly, her hands shoving deep into the pockets of her pants as she looked down at you on the edge of the bed.
“she doesn't sleep in here,” cassie said.
you blinked, squinting through the dark. “what?”
“she hasn't been sleeping in here all weekend,”cassie confessed, her jaw clenching slightly as she admitted it. “she has her own room downstairs.”
a bubble of laughter hit your chest.
you couldn't stop it. you buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking as a loose, breathless laugh ripped out of your throat.
“are you serious?” you giggled weakly, looking up at her. “you... you brought her all the way out here, you spent the whole weekend letting her sit in your lap, and you're not even sleeping with her?”
cassie didn't laugh. she just stood there, watching your meltdown.
“it’s not funny,” she muttered, though there was no real bite to her voice.
“it is,” you gasped, wiping a tear from your cheek.
cassie walked over to the side of the bed, and knelt down to unlace your shoes. she pulled them off your feet one by one, setting them by the closet.
“change,” she repeated. “i'm going to wait right outside the door.”
“don't go,” you muttered, the laughter completely draining out of you. you reached out, your fingers catching her sleeve. “stay.”
she looked down at your hand on her arm.
“i’m right outside,” she said softly, taking your fingers off her wrist.
she stood up and walked out, closing the door until it was just cracked an inch.
it took you what felt like an hour to get out of your clothes. the alcohol making your coordination useless. you pulled her hoodie over your head. it smelled exactly like her, that clean soap scent that you used to wake up to every day.
you kicked your jeans into the corner and crawled under the heavy covers, burying yourself into the pillows.
the door opened, and cassie stepped back inside. she’d taken off her own hoodie, now just wearing a plain black t shirt. she didn't come to the bed. she grabbed a spare blanket from the armchair and threw it onto the long floor mat by the window.
“what are you doing?” you asked, voice muffled by the pillow.
“sleeping on the floor,” she said, lying down and pulling the blanket up to her chest, her back to you.
“the bed is huge.”
“i’m staying on the floor.”
you let out a dry, pathetic little sound that was half laugh, half sob.
“shut up and go to sleep,” she scolded.
you rolled onto your side, staring at the outline of her back across the room. somewhere in your room, your boyfriend was probably passed out on the floor, the wreckage of your relationship waiting for you at sunrise. cassie’s girlfriend was in some guest room, part of a fake show that cassie was putting on for reasons you couldn't even begin to understand.
-
you lay there for an hour, staring at her back, the ache in your stomach growing until it was unbearable. you couldn't stay in this bed alone with your thoughts.
slowly, you slid out from under the covers. your feet hit the floor, making you shudder as you crept across the dark room.
cassie was lying on her side, her back still turned to you, buried beneath the thin spare blanket. her breathing was deep, and steady.
you didn't think about what you were doing. you just knelt down on the hard floor, your knees aching against the wood, and lifted the edge of her blanket.
you slid in behind her.
the radiating heat of her body hit you. you curled your knees up, pressing yourself close enough that the front of her hoodie brushed against the fabric of her shirt. she shifted slightly in her sleep, letting out a sigh, but she didn't wake up. she stayed asleep, her shoulders rising and falling.
you lay there in the dark, your eyes wide, staring at her back.
slowly, your hand trembled as you brought it out from under the blanket. your fingertips were cold, but you pressed them gently against the middle of her spine, right under the thin cotton of her shirt. you kept your touch light, terrified of waking her.
with a slow, agonizingly deliberate motion, you began to move your index finger against her back.
you traced a straight line down. an i.
you moved to the center of her shoulder blades, drawing a careful, sweeping loop, crossing it over itself. an l. then the o, the v, the e.
your throat tightened, a hot, silent tear slipping out of your eye and soaking straight into the pillow beneath your head. you moved your finger back to the top of her spine and started over.
i - l o v e - y o u.
over and over again, your finger traced the letters into her skin, a desperate, silent confession in the dark. you did it until your fingertips felt numb, until the words blurred together in your mind.
no matter how hard you tried to run, you were always going to end up right here, writing secrets into her back while she slept.
the rise and fall of her shoulders stopped entirely. for a second, she lay still under the blanket, her muscles locked tight. then, she twisted around so fast her shoulder clipped yours as she scrambled back.
her eyes were wide as she looked down at you curled on the floor mat. she looked blindsided, her breathing turning shallow.
“what are you doing down here?” cassie asked, her voice thick with sleep. she reached up, rubbing a hand over her face as if trying to wake herself out of a nightmare.
you shrank back against the hard floor, your finger still tingling from where you’d been touching her. “i couldn't sleep.”
“so you got on the floor?” cassie’s voice was getting sharper, her guarded wall slamming back down between you so fast. she looked at you, eyes tracking the dark circles under your eyes. “if someone walks in–”
“they’re all sleeping,” you interrupted, your own voice cracking with a mix of tequila and exhaustion. “who cares, right? let’s sleep, like we used to.”
“no, we can’t– i’m trying to be better,” cassie muttered. the words came out abrupt, like she hadn't meant to say them at all. she still wasn't looking at you. “i’m trying to... to do this right."
a giant lump formed in your throat. you looked at her, the hesitation in the way her shoulders braced, and you reached out. your hand crept out, fingertips trembling as you placed them gently against the left side of her chest, where her heart was.
“you don’t have to leave me behind to fix yourself, cass. you can change…but you can still choose me,” you whispered. you didn't move your hand, it stayed pressed against her chest. “your heart is beating so fast.”
“you don’t even know what your saying.”
“i know what i mean.”
inside her own mind, the pressure was unbearable.
i want to hold you.
i want to take your hand and press it harder into my chest until you realize how right you are.
i want to tell you that love’s never meant that much to me until it was yours, and now it’s the only thing keeping me alive.
i want to be with you so bad it makes me sick.
but i can't. not like this.
she thought, her eyes tracking the small movement of your throat as you swallowed.
but the words remained inside her, locked away by pride and the stubborn habit of hiding herself from you. she couldn't say them. to say them would mean admitting she was entirely at your mercy.
“am i not in it?” you slurred, voice cracking. “the... the better version of you. the one you're trying to fix. am i just not in it?"
cassie didn't answer. she didn't offer a single one of her usual defenses. instead, she just pulled your wrist down, pressing your palm even harder against her chest, as if the speed of her heart could say the things she was too choked up to put into words.
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a/n: sorry ive been slacking off with this series but im backkk and im making the parts longer to compensate for lost time. this isn’t proof read, plss ignore any mistakes <333
for the past month, your boyfriend had been trying to pull you gently back toward yourself. he has been the most supportive person in your life.
he started waking up earlier to make you coffee and breakfast before work because he noticed you’d stopped sleeping properly. he pulls you against his chest at night when he thought you were awake. he always asks if you wanted to go out more, or maybe stay in more. it’s all up to you according to him.
every question circled the truth without touching it directly. and it terrified you. because you kept lying to him, how were you to explain that your sadness had a face? a voice? hands?
“i don’t know,” you shrug, not making eye contact with him as he sits across the table in front of you. a conversation you’ve had almost every day with him.
and your boyfriend, ever the most paitent, sweet, and understanding man, only nodded and kissed the top of your head before leaving for work.
it was like a never ending cycle that has been exhausting the both of you. he wakes up, tries to get a word out of you, then leaves when you refuse to speak.
three nights ago he found you crying in the bathroom at four in the morning over absolutely nothing. or at least nothing that was explainable to him.
you were standing barefoot beside the sink, overwhelmed suddenly by the sound of the water running.
your boyfriend walked in, still half asleep, a look of concern washing over his face as he rushed to your side.
“hey,” he whispered softly. “what happened?”
you shook your head before he even reached you.
“nothing.”
he looked at you and you saw the helplessness in his eyes. he wanted to help, to be there for you as much as he could. but you weren’t letting him and it was killing the both of you.
he wrapped his arms around you carefully, like he tought you might fall apart if he held you tightly.
“i miss you,” he murmured, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. “i just miss you baby.”
that almost made you confess everything.
“i’ve been thinking,” he interrupts your thoughts. “one of my friends is hosting this party at his cabin this weekend.”
“your friend?”
“yeah, jack abbot.”
“mhm, i think trinity told me about him once,” you nod half engaged in the conversation.
“people are staying the weekend,” he continued carefully. “and, he offered us one of the rooms.”
“really?” your eyes lift to him.
“before you say no,” he says pointing a finger at you. “i already know you’re going to say something like ‘you shouldn’t have accepted'–”
“you shouldn’t have accepted,” you shook your head.
“i just…” he exhaled quietly, pulling you back into his embrace as he rubbed his hands down the small of your back. “i really want to see you happy again. i miss that. i miss you.”
you could hear his heart beat faster as you leaned closer into his chest. thoughts of cassie interrupted your mind again, like they have been since the last time you’ve seen her.
she hadn’t been around after that night, not even trinity had a clue as to what she was up to after her shift. you would annoy trinity with questions about cassie, careful not to imply anything suspicious. even though you could tell she was sensing something.
“she has been going home earlier,” trinity said, her hands tightening around a head of lettuce.
you were out grocery shopping with her, half convinced that this was just some random hang out with trinity. when in reality all roads lead back to you wondering about cassie.
“yeah? do you have any idea why?” you ask carefully. “maybe she’s been having a rough time?”
trinity shakes her head. “oh no, i think she’s seeing someone. she’s been all cheerful the past two weeks. it’s scaring me a little.”
your heart drops, of course she’s seeing someone. you’re seeing someone, have been for the past two years. why would you care if she found someone to sleep next to every night?
the thoughts were ugly and kept appearing like an unwelcomed dream. almost everything you did always ended up making you think of cassie somehow.
cassie in bed with another woman.
cassie having sex with another woman.
cassie. cassie. cassie.
standing in the bathroom, still listening to the stuttering beat of your boyfriend’s heart. you tried your best to push those thoughts aside, to try your best and give your all to the person willing to move mountains for you.
“so…” he said, trying to ease the tension before it swallowed the room whole. “i figured maybe we could disappear for a weekend. he has a pool.”
you snorted softly.
“and,” he asked, softly tugging at your hair. “maybe my girlfriend starts feeling like herself again.”
girlfriend.
you felt like a liar, like someone undeserving of that title. a girlfriend is someone that loves and gives the same affection that she receives. you were nothing like that.
you spent your days with him with only one thing in mind, and it was unfortunately someone else. someoen older. someone who you once loved and was prepared to give everything to.
-
the rest of the week flew by as smoothly as you wished for it to be. you packed an overnight bag and shoved it into the backseat of your boyfriends car beneath two cases of beer and a jacket he’d been meaning to return to someone for months.
“you ready?” he asked, starting the engine.
“mhm,” you pulled your legs up in the passenger seat, leaning back against the headrest.
“someone’s excited,” he looked at you for a second, his hand resting on the gear shift.
“i hate long drives.”
“since when?”
since my last one ended with me stranded in a motel with a brand new car.
“i don’t know,” you said, avoiding the question. “lately.”
he didn’t push it. he just shifted into drive and backed out of the apartment lot.
the city blurred past you. at the red lights, his hand would rest on your knee. the kind of touch that didn’t demand a reaction from you.
for almost an hour, neither of you said anything to each other. the heater blew hot air around the car, the windshield wipers made a dry scraping sound against the glass because the rain had mostly stopped. he drove one handed, his thumb tapping the steering wheel to whatever track was playing.
“i snuck out this morning, and got some of those bagels that you really like,” he said after a while. “they’re in the backseat.”
“i’m okay, thanks.”
“you barely ate anything this morning.”
“i’m not that hungry.”
he let out a quiet breath, a half smile hitting his face. “alright, just letting you know.”
god, you hated this.
not him. that would have been easier, to hate him. it would make the guilt that has been cemented in you feel lighter.
a playlist you had playing ended two songs ago, and started playing random music from your liked songs.
and then, as if the universe had decided everything must go against you.
cassie, won’t you be my doll…
your entire body physically locked up, your hand moving before your brain did, hitting the skip button on the screen.
your boyfriend was caught off guard at your sudden movement. “woah, not a big fan of the song?”
“it’s one of the worst songs in existence,” you stared ahead at the road trying your hardest to calm your pulse hammering in your throat.
“really? i thought you liked that album.”
“i don’t.”
“okay,” he said, his voice dropping, confused by the slight edge of your tone. “you don’t have to snap.”
guilt started mixing into the panic you were feeling.
“sorry,” you muttered, reaching down to where his hand was on your knee and slowly rubbed the back of it. “it’s a really corny song.”
“it’s okay, baby,” he said gently, squeezing your knee once before removing it and placing it on the wheel. “we’re banning that song from the playlist then.”
he didn’t ask why. he trusted you enough to let it go. but the damage was already done, your brain was already recalling the first time you heard that song and sung it to cassie.
you were sitting on her lap, straddling her hips on the creaking mattress. your knees were tucked into her sides, the heat of her skin under her shirt seeping right through to your bare thighs.
cassie’s hands rested on your waist. she was looking up at you, her eyes hooded, completely relaxed and willing to do whatever you asked her to do.
you leaned down enough so your lips brushed hers. she leaned in for a kiss but you pulled away slightly, making her pout.
you turned to her ear, your voice barely a breath.
“cassie, won’t you be my doll…”
she let out a groan, her head dropping back into the pillow. “not that song again.”
you let out a quiet laugh, shifting your weight just enough to make her hands tighten around your waist like she was afraid you were going to get up. you slid your palms up her stomach then to her chest, feeling her breathing get faster.
“what?” you whispered innocently, dragging your lips down her jaw without quite touching her. “but baby won’t you be my doll…”
“you’re teasing,” she muttered, her voice rough now. “and very out of tune.”
“i’m whispering,” you whispered back, pressing a slow kiss that made her whimper into the dip of her collarbone. “you can’t be out of tune when you’re whispering.”
he fingers tangled into the hair at the back of your neck and pulled you down, kissing you.
it started lazy and quiet, but the playfulness dropped out of it instantly. it turned into the kind of kiss where you start losing your breath and dig your fingers into her shoulders just to keep your balance.
she pulled back just an inch, her breath hot against your mouth, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.
“enough singing,” she rasped.
she arched up into you, hands pulling you flush against her hips, erasing the tiny space. you let out a soft whimper, as she moved, her mouth finding your throat.
your fingers caught the hem of her tank top, pulling it up and over her head, needing the skin to skin heat. you didn’t let her roll you over this time, even if she really wanted to. you kept your weight on her hips, your hands dropping down to trap her wrists against the mattress.
cassie let out a surprised breath, her hair fanning out across the pillow. she looked breathtaking, the yellow light from the bathroom caught the line of her throat as she tilted her chin up, looking at you.
she tried to pull her hands free, but you held fast, leaning down until your breath brushed her lips again.
“stay still,” you murmured.
the corner of her mouth twitched, a stubborn smirk trying to form, but her breathing was already too fast. “since when do you call the shots?”
“since now.”
you let go of her wrists, but before she could move, you moved your hands up her arms, mapping the skin until your fingers tangled into her hair, holding her face right where you wanted it.
you kissed her and it tasted like the faint hint of the cheap soda she had earlier, tobacco, but mostly her. every time she tried to deepen it, to take the control back, you pulled away just enough to leave her wanting more, trailing your lips down to the edge of her jaw instead.
cassie let out a frustrated sound, her hips arching up beneath yours, desperate for some friction. you didn’t give it to her. you stayed still, your weight just a teasing pressure against her thighs.
“you’re cruel,” she rasped, her hands coming up to grip your waist again, fingers digging hard into your skin through your shirt, trying to pull you back down against her.
“i’m just taking my time,” you whispered against her neck. you pressed a lingering kiss to the sensitive pulse point right below her ear, then nipped the skin gently.
a shiver went straight through cassie’s core. her head knocked down into the pillow, eyes half closed and dark with a helpless heat you’d never seen in her before. it made a dizzying feel of power flare up in your chest.
your hands kept moving around her body, fingers tracing the dip of her ribs, down to the waistband of her shorts. you kept your eyes locked on hers as you slid your hand beneath the fabric, your palm flat against the warm skin of her stomach. you felt the hitch in her breath, the way she trembled under your touch.
“please,” she breathed. it was bare and devoid of her usual dominance.
“are you…begging?”
“come on, baby. don’t make me say it again.”
you didn’t make her wait anymore, and you honestly couldn’t wait either. you slid the fabric of her pants and underwear down her legs in one motion, kicking them off the edge of the bed, before shifting back over her, ridding yourself of your own shorts and panties.
when your bare skin finally met hers, the heat was a physical shock that had cassie jolting up off the bed. her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you back down into her with a deep hunger. your mouth found hers, and any trace of teasing melted away into something hotter.
“you okay?”
the grip on your waist vanished, the heat of cassie’s skin, all lf it just collapsed into nothing in a second.
your eyes snapped open.
the dashboard navigation screen was glowing a sharp blue in the dark car. your boyfriend was looking over at you, his hand was resting on your thigh now, pressing down to get your attention.
you felt hot, your breaths coming out in short puffs, your fingers clenching tight into the fabric of your seatbelt.
“yeah,” you breathed, clearing your throat quickly. “yeah. sorry.”
he didn’t take his eyes off the road for long, turning his gaze back to the highway as he drove through a long bend. “you jumped when i said your name. you look pale. do you feel sick?”
“no,” you said, forcing your hands to untangle from the seatbelt and rest in your lap. they were trembling slightly, so you tucked them under your thighs. “i think i’m getting motion sickness.”
“we’re only about twenty minutes out,” he said gently. “as soon as we get to the cabin, you can just pass out. i’ll unpack the car.”
“thanks,” you muttered, looking out the passenger window. the trees were just black smears.
god, you are disgusting.
you were sitting in his car, going to a cabin his friend owned, with a man who loved you so much it didn’t even occur to him to doubt you, and you were mentally taking off another woman’s clothes.
you were going through a memory like a pervert in the passenger seat, tracing the line of a ghost’s ribs while the real person, the good person, was trying to hold your hand.
why couldn’t you just let it stay dead? she left you. she got up and left you without leaving you any form of contact. she didn’t want you. she didn’t want the mess being with you brought on. she told you right to your face for pretend not to know her if you crossed paths again.
you squeezed your boyfriends hand hard, like a drowning person catching a rope. you tried to focus on the texture of his skin, the scar on his knuckle, the sound of his breathing. he is real. his is stable.
but still, your mind entirely against your own will, was already slipping backward again, thinking about cassie.
-
the cabin was bigger than you expected. your boyfriend pulled the car to a stop, the headlights cutting off and pulling the woods back into darkness.
“we’re here,” he said, turning to look at you. “it wasn’t so bad, right.”
“yeah, i hope you’re friend isn’t some psychopath serial killer,” your bad attempt at a joke made him nod and untangle his fingers from your hand.
“come on, let’s get you inside so you can lie down.”
you stepped out of the passenger seat, a part of you already dreading this, the cold air instantly making your skin feel tight. the gravel crunched loudly under your shoes as you walked around to the trunk.
even though you knew cassie was their coworker and that there might be a chance she’s in there with her new girlfriend, a part of you naively believed that she didn’t show up, and this weekend was going to be good for you and your boyfriend.
the chance of that happening, no the thought of spending forty eight hours under the same roof as her. eating at the same table. walking past each other in hallways. watching her exist in the same space as you. it was all making you physically sick.
as your boyfriend popped the truck, the front door of the cabin swung open.
“hey! you guys finally made it,” jack said swinging a bottle at you both, stepping out on the porch. “we were starting to think you got eaten by bears.”
“traffic out the city was brutal,” your boyfriend called back, pulling your bags out of the trunk.
“well, hurry inside. everyone’s in the kitchen.” jack clapped your boyfriend on the shoulder as they met at the back of the car, then turned his eyes to you. “great to finally meet you. serious head count tonight by the way. cassie brought a plus one, parker did as well.”
every bone in your body froze.
a plus one.
the bag in your head felt heavy enough to pull you into the gravel. she’d brought someone to a small, isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere. you couldn’t help but think that it was intentional. was it because she knew you were coming with your boyfriend? or did cassie truly move on?
you felt sick, like the bagels you had not even an hour ago were about to find their way up your throat.
“come on, let’s go inside,” your boyfriend’s hand touched your elbow. “i’ll get you a glass of water.”
the warmth of the cabin made up for the freezing cold outside, the smell of roasted garlic and loud conversation hit you as soon as you walked in. two people sat on the couch you later learned the names of, josh shen and parker ellis shouted welcomes from the couch. your boyfriend yelled back, but your eyes were somewhere else.
they were fixed on the short hallway leading to the kitchen. and then, she walked out.
cassie.
she was wearing a dark gray sweater with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, her hair down over her shoulders. she was laughing at something someone behind her said, but the second her boots hit the floor of the living room, her eyes lifted.
and looked right into yours, like there was no one else in the room.
the laugh died instantly on her face. she didn’t look surprised, she knew you were coming, but the impact of being in the same room again made the air between you unbearable.
but the horror wasn’t done.
because right behind her, stepping out of the kitchen with a plate of appetizers, was the same woman. the one from cassie’s half assed bar date. the same one with the hand that kept sliding into cassie’s arms.
the woman looked up, recognizing you immediately, from across the room. her eyebrows shot up. a smirk crossing her lips as she looked between you and cassie.
“oh,” she said, her voice carrying easy over the chatter. “well, look who it is.”
your boyfriend stopped next to you, oblivious to the suffocating drop in pressure in the room. he set you bags down by the stairs and looked toward the kitchen.
“cassie!” he called out, raising a hand. “good to see you. i didn’t know you were back from you trip already.”
cassie forced her eyes away from you. she looked at your boyfriend. then her eyes slid back to you, taking in the way your boyfriend’s arm was nkw resting on your shoulders.
“yeah,” cassie said. “got in yesterday.”
her heart was doing that ugly, erratic thing against her ribs, the same way it always did whenever you were around her.
cassie watched as his hand slide down onto the small of your back, a gesture that made a hot wave of jealousy light up in her throat she could almost taste it.
he doesn’t know you.
she thought to herself, the bitterness already biting deep.
he doesn’t know the sounds you make.
he doesn’t know how hard you laugh when the radio cuts mid song. or the way you like your waffles.
i do. i always did.
beside her, the woman slid a hand into cassie’s back pocket, leaning close to whisper something unimportant, but cassie barely felt it. she knew deep down that the woman was just a prop she’d broughg along because she’d known you’d be here, and she’d been terrified of looking hollow in front of you.
you were miserable. she could see it.
-
it was past midnight, but no one moved from the living room. you were tucked into the corner of the leather sofa, your legs pulled up under a heavy wool blanket. your boyfriend’s arm was around your shoulders, holding you close against his side. his thumb moved in a slow stroke against your arm, his chest falling and rising against your back.
your eyes locked onto the glass table between the couches because looking anywhere else was difficult.
cassie was sitting across from you in an armchair. she had one leg hooked over the armrest. she hadn’t looked at you in almost twenty minutes, but you couldn’t ignore her presence, her energy cutting through the safe bubble your boyfriend was trying to build around you.
so much for a healing weekend getaway.
next to her, sitting on the floor and leaning her back against cassie was the woman. you hated the intimacy of the scene, the small touches that you craved so bad.
“honestly, i didn’t think we were ever going to make it back to the state line,” the woman laughed, taking a sip from her drink and tossing her bead back against cassie’s knee. your throat tightened. “cassie’s idea of a shortcut through the mountains is just tracking mud down dirt roads until the service drops down fo zero.”
“sounds about right,” jack snorted.
“no, seriously,” she continued, her voice light. “she made me turn off my phone. we were completely MIA for four days. we just stayed in this tiny place near the coast and all we had was this small old radio that only picked up one local station, and we just…stopped. it was insane.”
a spike of recognition hit your stomach so hard it made you dizzy. your lungs felt empty. it wss the exact same script. cassie hadn’t moved on, she was actively trying to recycle your time together with someone else.
the woman reached up, her fingerd catching the hem of cassie’s sweater, tugging it playfully. “i think she just likes being stranded. don’t you, cass?”
cassie didn’t answer right away. you couldn’t stop your eyes from lifting, your gaze snapping to her face. her eyes held yours, unblinking. she saw the panic in your face. her jaw tightened, as she let her hand drop down to rest on the woman’s shoulder.
look at me, her stare spoke. look what i can do without you.
the jealousy was making you fold into yourself, rising up from your chest into your throat until it choked you. you couldn’t breathe. the room was too hot, the sound of the woman’s laughter was like shattering glass in your ears.
you couldn’t sit here for another second. if you stayed, you were going to scream, or throw something right at them.
you abruptly moved, pulling away from your boyfriend’s arm. the shift made him blink.
“you okay?” he murmured softly, his hand dropping to your thigh.
“i’m going to bed,” you said, too fast.
you stood up before he could answer, dropping the blanket onto the cushions. your face was burning, and your eyes were already stinging with a rush of tears you couldn’t stop.
“already?” your boyfriend asked, as he started to shift forward to stand up with you. “i’ll come up with–”
“no,” you cut him off, your voice cracking slightly. you didn’t look at him, you couldn’t. “stay. finish your drink. i…need to lie down, my head feels heavy.”
you turned and walked toward the stairs, the sound of chatter dying down behind you. you practically ran up the wooden stairs, your throat tight as you swallowed down a sob.
cassie watched your shadow disappear around the landing, her fingers tightening on the fabric of her jeans until her knuckles turned white.
the bedroom at the top of the stairs was freezing. you shut the door behind you, locking it. the second you were alone, the sob poured out of you in a trembling shudder.
you didn’t bother to turn on the lights. you just dropped your forhead against the cold door, your eyes squeezed shut as the first hot wave of tears finally spilled. they tracked down your cheeks, burning against skin that already felt like it was on fire.
every word the woman spoke was spinning in your head in a malicious loop. you could picture it too clearly, the way cassie looked driving down those dirt roads, one hand on the wheel. the way her voice sounded whenever she was far away from any responsibilities.
and she had given it to someone else. it wasn’t just yours. it had never been yours, it was just a pattern she ran when things got too heavy, snd you had been stupid enough to think you were special because you were once in the passenger seat.
a quiet sob escaped your throat, and you clapped your hand over your mouth instantly, terrified of the sound being heard even though you were far enough away from anyone to hear you.
you hated cassie. you hated her for being here, you hated her for bringing that woman, you hated her for the way she looked at you, like you were the one doing something wrong.
a floorboard creaked out on the landing.
you stilled, your palm still pressed tight against your lips, your breath catching in your throat.
for a second, the terrifying thought hit you that it was her. that she maybe had followed you up. your heart flipped against your lungs, a rush of adrenaline ripped through the chill in the room.
then came the knock. two hesitant raps against the wood right next your ear.
“hey,” your boyfriend’s voice came through with concern. “babe? you in there?”
the relief that washed over you was quickly ruined by a wave of guilt. you wiped your face frantically with the palm of your hands, sniffing quietly, trying tk force your voice to not sound like you’d just been crying.
“yeah,” you called out, stepping back from the door so it wouldn’t vibrate against your forehead. “yeah, i’m already undrr the covers.”
a small lie. you were still standing in the dark in your shoes and your jacket.
“can i come in?” he asked softly. “i brought up some water and some advil from the glove box.”
“i’m okay, really,” you said, your throat tight as you fought down another rush of tears. “i took some before we left and i think it’s finally kicking in. i just really need the dark. i’m sorry.”
silence. you held your breath, staring at the line of lighg beneath the door, praying that he would just accept it and leave.
“okay,” he said eventually. he sounded s little hurt, a little distant. “i’ll leave the water on the table out here. come down if you need anything, alright? jack’s opening another bottle.”
“okay. thank you.”
“love you.”
say it. say it back
“love you too,” you whispered to the empty room.
you listened to the sound of his boots walking back down the hallway as he headed back down to the living room.
when it was quiet again, you finally let yourself relax. you walked over to the bed, kicking off your shoes snd shrugging your jacket off, the mattress stiff under you as you crawled on top of the blanket, fully clothed, pulling your knees back up to your chest.
you stared at the dark, your face still hot, the tears drying tight on your skin, knowing that cassie was still down there and that there were still forty eight hours left of the weekend.
i’m working on a fic with trinity santos x female reader where it’s a forbidden romance (princesses, summer getaways, arranged marriages)! but almost all of my fics have happy endings so that one will probably end up happily as well!
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Hello! Your journalist!reader fic was delicious and I'm not sure if you're still taking requests but I can't stop thinking about loser!reader that has a big fat crush on Baran. Let me know your thoughts!
Imagine reader is a competent doctor but has literally no social life outside of work. She's practically a recluse and a huge nerd, and maybe a bit pervy in her solitude...
I have no idea how she would get involved with Baran (up to you), but know that they somehow do and reader loses her virginity with her. And turns out, reader is a natural.
new york had become too loud for you, too busy, too crowded. you had packed your entire life into four boxes, left manhattan, and found retreat in the comfort of pittsburgh.
you were exceptional in a hospital setting. if they gave you a collapsed lung, a crashing paitent, or a central line in complete darkness, your hands stayed steadier than the monitors around you. but the second you took the gloves off, it was like all of that capability disappeared.
outside of the ER, you felt more like a ghost than a person. after your shifts at the PTMC, you went straight to your apartment, where your only companions were your own hyperactive imagination and your cat that you found sleeping outside of your apartment lobby one night after a long shift.
in your own solitude, your mind went places your body would never allow in daylight. you weren’t just someone that memorized human body parts for fun, you were a deeply frustrated person who spent your late night hours reading explicit novels and projecting those exact scenarios into your real life.
and lately, those scenarios had a very specific face: your attending, dr baran al hashimi.
she was in her fortys, with sharp elegant features, and a voice that sounded like velvet. you found her completely intoxicating.
it was early morning, almost ten, when the crush you had on baran mutated itself into an obsession. you were at the nurses station talking to princess, when baran leaned over your shoulder with a CT scan.
“good call,” baran murmured. her chest lightly brushed your shoulder, you held your breath careful not to let out a sound. “most third years would have missed that.”
“thank you, dr al hashimi,” your voice an octave higher than usual.
baran paused, looking down at you. her eyes narrowed slightly, and you almost thought she could read all the dirty things that you were thinking of.
“are you cold? you’re shaking.”
“fine! just caffeine,” you stammered. “excuse me.”
you hurriedly made your way to the staff restroom. when the door closed, you collapsed against it. the cool feeling of the door against your back did nothing to cool the sudden heat rushing through your skin.
“get a grip,” you whispered. “get a fucking grip.”
you stumbled toward the sink, gripping the edge so hard your knuckles turned white. when you looked up at the mirror, the reflection offered no comfort. you looked like you had been caught doing something unspeakable.
you turned the tap on max, splashing freezing water onto your face. it was as useless as tossing a cup of water onto a forest fire.
every time you closed your eyes, unholy images of baran burned into your vision. in reality, baran had been strictly professional with you. in your head however, every touch from baran was intentional. you could still feel the warmth of baran’s breath on your neck.
your hand reached for the paper towels. what if she knew? the thought hit you like a punch to the face. what if baran could look right through your scrubs and see just how pathetic you were?
a shiver ran down your spine, pooling heavy between your thighs. you let out a soft whimper, leaning your head against the mirror. you pictured baran catching you right here, in this dirty hospital bathroom. you imagined her long fingers locking the door, turning you around, and shoving you face first into the sink.
baran’s voice low and whispering. “is this what you wanted?” while her fingers made their way to your drenched underwear.
“oh fuck,” you gasped out loud. your hand instinctively twitched toward the waistband of your pants, the urge to relieve the ache on a dirty public toilet, screaming through your nerve endings.
then the beep of your pager shattered through the fantasy.
you jumped, heart beating into your ribs. you looked down at the tiny screen.
GSW. 10 MINS.
you took a ragged deep breaths in, tore off a fresh paper towel to aggressively wipe the sweat from your neck, and slapped your own cheeks until the red flush looked less like arousal and more like stress and exhaustion.
the rest of the shift felt like it was testing your patience. you were a good doctor and you knew how to control yourself ninety nine percent of the time, which means you didn’t drop a single stitch or miscalculate a single dose, but right now you felt like a disaster.
every single thing baran did became ammunition for your perverted imagination.
you were in the middle of fixing a fractured bone, baran told you to, “hold her steady. don’t let her move.” your brain immediately flipped the context, imagining baran pinning you to a bed, using the same commanding tone to keep you still.
your hands shook so violently you almost dropped whatever you were holding.
“you’re high on adrenaline tonight,” baran teased smoothly, not even looking up at you as she wrapped the bandage. “make sure you’re drinking enough water.”
‘i can’t breathe right now. i’m imagining what your mouth tastes like’ your mind shot back instantly, a thought so bold it made you choke on your own saliva.
you coughed into your elbow. “yes, dr al hashimi.”
later, around two pm, you were side by side at the sink after a messy patient bled all over you. the sound of rushing water filled the silence. you kept yiur eyes focues on your soapy forearms, but your peripheral was betraying you.
you watched the way the fabric of baran’s jacket stretched across her back as she moved, stray hairs escaping her neat hairstyle.
baran reached over to turn off the water, the movement bringing her hip within two inches of yours. you literally forgot how to inhale. your body locked up, a wave of familiar heat sinking straight into your core, making your panties feel uncomfortably damp against your skin.
she glanced over, her dark eyes tracking the unnatural posture of her resident. one of baran’s eyebrows arched up, an amused expression on her face. “go get some coffee. you look like you need it.”
you couldn’t respond, rinsing your hands with frantic speed and fleeing down the hall before you could do something that was going to end your career, like begging your attending to touch you while you were on the clock.
-
that night when you finally got home, the sun had already set, but you still drew the blackout curtains. you didn’t even bother washing hospital grime off your body before you collapsed onto your bed.
baran’s voiced echoed in your ears, laced with her sexy authoritive tone.
“good call.”
you let out a pathetic whimper. without even realizing what you were doing, your hand slid under the hem of your top, mapping the rigid lines of your own ribs before moving down, past the waistband of your damp shorts.
the moment your fingers brushed against your clothed clit, you gasped, your eyes snapping shut in the darkness. you were already soaking wet. the friction of walking home had been painful, and now the contrast of your cold fingers against your burning skin made your hips twitch.
you didn’t use any of the toys you had. no, you wanted it rougher, more desperate. you hooked two fingers into the elastic of your panties and shorts and pulled them down to your knees, spreading your thighs in the empty room.
“baran,” you whispered, the name slipping past your lips like a sin.
you touched yourself messily, fingers clumsy and frantic, lacking all the precision you had at work. you closed your eyes and let your imagination take full control. in your head, you were pinned to this very mattress, and baran was towering over you.
you imagined her strong hands gripping your wrists, pinning them above your head. the weight of baran’s body pressed you deeper into the bed, her scent clouding your senses until you couldn’t think.
“is this what you do when you’re alone, baby?” you imagined baran asking, her dark eyes staring at you with a possessive gaze. “you’re making a mess.”
“please,” you whined out into the empty bedroom, hips arching off the sheets.
you increased the pace, your thumb working against your clit while your other hand gripped your own breast. you pictured baran leaning down, her hair brushing against your cheeks, before crashing her mouth onto yours and completely erasing the last twenty five years of your crushing loneliness.
the images in your head were so intense, so vivid that you found yourself coming within a minute.
your core tightened. you let out a choked, muffled sob into your pillow as a devastating orgasm crashed over you, your walls clenching around empty air. your toes curled, and you shuddered hard against the mattress, your chest heaving as the heat rippled through your body.
slowly, the frantic racing of your heart had started to slow down.
you pulled your hand away, and stared up at the dark ceiling. the brief artificial warmth of the fantasy left you, leaving behind the cold reality.
you were still alone. your fingers were still slick, your chest was flushed, and the feelings you had tried your hardest to brush aside for baran had only gotten worse.
you curled into your side, pulling your knees to your chest, and buried uour face into the pillow. you had to go back there tomorrow. you had to look at baran in the eye at seven in the morning and pretend that you weren’t a completely pathetic person who spent her nights crying out her attendings name in the dark.
-
the shift change felt like stepping directly into a meat grinder. you hadn’t slept. you had spent the night tossing and turning in your sleep, drifting through vivid dreams of baran’s hands before waking up in a panic, checking your clock.
now, stood in front of dana at the nurses station, aggressively staring at a printout of whatever lab tests you ordered. you were trying your hardest to blend into the drywall.
dana reached into a plastic bin on the desk, grabbed a small bottle of apple juice and placed it right in front of you.
“you look sick,” dana muttered. “when was the last time you ate something that didn’t come out of a vending machine, kid?”
“i had lunch yesterday,” you lied, your fingers fumbling with the plastic cap of the juice bottle.
“yesterday,” she murmured as she took a slow sip from her thermal mug. dana wasn’t stupid she knew exactly what people looked like when they hadn’t slept for reasons that had nothing to do with work. “pull it together, hon. i’ve got three ambulances backing up in the bay and i can’t have you fainting on me.”
“i’m alright, dana,” you swallowed a mouthful of the juice, then choking on it once you heard your name being called.
“i see you have gotten the lab results back.”
your entire body spasmed. you dropped your pen. it clattered loudly against the counter and rolled right to the feet of dr baran al hashimi.
baran stood there, looking infuriatingly sexy for someone who probably also worked a brutal shift so far. her hair was pinned back in the same way she always wore it. she was holding a tablet, looking down at you with a calm intensity.
“sorry,” you hurried, ducking down to grab the pen. your face was already on fire. when you stood back up, you accidentally caught a whiff of baran’s perfume and your brain short circuited.
i used my fingers last night while screaming her name, your mind screamed at you. she’s looking right at me and i sacrificed my sleep to imagine her ripping my scrubs off.
“are you alright?” she called you by your first name, her voice dropping slightly. her dark eyes swept over your face, tracing the frantic pulse in your neck.
“i’m perfect! the labs i ordered are uh…totally standard…” you rattled off, your brain defaulting to medical word vomit because your social skills had completely abandoned you. “just…excited for the shift.”
baran’s lips twitched, a hint of a smile flashing in her face. “good. because we have a waiting room full of people. follow me.”
you wanted to disappear from the world. there was nothing worse in life than working with baran on patients. you would much rather be burned alive.
the next four hours were painf. you were trapped in a hell of your own making. because you lived an almost completely isolated life, you had no idea how to deal with a crush. especially a work crush.
you kept biting the inside of your cheek so hard until you tasted copper. you were a loser. a total, hopeless, horny loser who couldn’t preform basic procedures without turning it into something erotic.
-
near the end of your shift, you were physically exhausted by the effort of suppressing your horny thoughts about baran. you were sitting in the back of the break room, going over a discharge summary that perlah handed you before you walked in. you thought you were alone before you heard open.
you looked up.
baran was leaning against the door, her hands behind her. the overhead lights did nothing to soften the predatory look in her eyes. she didn’t have a reason to be here, no paperwork in hand for you to work on and she wasn’t reaching for the fridge or coffee machine. she was just staring at you.
baran wasn’t blind. she took notice of you the second you transferred here from new york. you were a prodigy amongst brilliant doctors, but around her, you acted like a cornered animal. you wouldn’t meet baran’s eyes, tripped over your words when you spoke, and you couldn’t keep still whenever you two shared an elevator.
“you’ve been on edge lately. it’s been showing through your work,” baran murmured, her voice losing its authority and gaining a new softness to it. “i can’t help but notice that it seems to be that way only when i’m around.”
your knuckles turned white against the edge of the desk. you looked up, completely at her mercy.
“i’m just…i don’t want to make a mistake dr al hashimi. i’m trying to be professional.”
“professional?” baran echoed a low laugh escaping her as she made her way closer to you, leaning over you, one hand on the back of your chair the other on the desk, trapping you in her gaze. “is that what this is?”
you swore you felt your heart physically leave your chest from how hard it was beating. you almosg pinched yourself to make sure this wasn’t another wet dream.
baran reached out, fingers gently brushing against the side of your neck. the moment her skin touched your hot flesh, a shiver ripped through your body.
baran’s mouth was inches from yours. you could feel the uneven puffs of breaths of the older woman against your lips. your eyes closed briefly, yiur body leaning forward in surrender. you were ready to throw away every shred of dignity to feel what a real kiss tasted like.
but the touch never came. you couldn’t possibly read baran’s mind but you felt how her body went still. you opened your eyes to find her staring down at you, eyes wide and dark. a muscle twitched in her sharp jaw. she didn’t look angry. no, she was disgusted with herself.
with a quick movement, baran pulled away, her hands dropping from your chair is if the metal turned ice cold.
“no,” baran breathed out, her voice strained. she brought a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, refusing to look directly at you. “no. i can’t do this.”
you say frozen in the chair, knees parted, chest heaving in total confusion and humiliation. “dr al hashimi?” you whispered, your voice sounding small.
“this is completely unprofessional,” baran said, her tone snapping back to that same tone she always had whenever she was slightly angry. she smoothed down the front of her jacket, her posture locking back into its usual stiffness. “you are my resident. what i am doing–what we are doing– is an egregious violation of boundaries.”
you swallowed hard, looking straight up into baran’s eyes.
“but we didn’t do anything.”
you were right. baran knew you were right. technically, legally, and more importantly professionally you hadn’t crossed a single line. to anyone passing by, it looked like a resident sitting in a chair and her attending leaning over her.
but you knew that it wasn’t just that, not with the way she looked at you like she was starving for more. the way you pointed it out sent a shiver down baran’s spine.
you were looking up at her with wide lust filled eyes, a small pout on your lip, making you look completely defenseless and provocative at the same time. baran’s fingers twitched against her thighs.
every instinct she possessed screamed at her to prove you wrong. to slam her hands down on the table in front of you and show you exactly what doing something was like.
no, i can’t.
baran’s mind interrupted her inner spiral. she felt as if she spoke another word or even breathed too loud, something would slip out that she couldn’t take back.
she thought about her hands on your waist, lifting you onto the table, and having her way with you like she’s always wanted.
the thought was intoxicating. a sickening feeling of guilt immediately followed the thought, crashing over her like a punch to the gut.
what the hell is wrong with you? baran interrupted herself, her conscience screaming at her.
she is your resident.
she is only twenty five.
you shouldn’t feel this way about her.
baran looked away from you, staring blankly at the sad coffee machine in an attempt to anchor herself.
“you’re right,” she said. her voice now incredibly quiet.
she didn’t let herself look back at you. she couldn’t risk seeing the disappointment or the lingering desire in your eyes, knowing it would completely destroy whatever restraint she had left.
“excuse me,” she muttered.
she turned on her heel, the door shut behind her leaving you alone and flustered in the quiet.
stepping out into the chaos of the ER, baran let out a long breath that she felt all the way in her bones. she stepped past a nurse handing her a scan, and made a beeline to the bathroom, locking herself in there.
she slumped against the door, burying her face in her hands. the guilt was suffocating. she could still smell a faint trace of your shampoo, could picture the exact way your knees had parted for her.
baran considered herself to be a very disciplined person and she had just let herself get all hot and bothered by a junior resident that she had practically fled the room like a coward.
she stared at her feet in a blur of frustrated guilty heat. she’s your resident. that’s all she is and ever will be.
but as the clock ticked toward the end of your shifts, baran knew, with a sinking dread in her chest, that the boundary she set in her head was already crossed in your minds. and the next time you were alone, technicality wouldn’t be enough to save you.
for the last thirty minutes, her eyes kept drifting toward the far corner of the department, where you stood sanitizing a computer keyboard, your head down, your shoulders hunched tightly as you started charting.
baran couldn’t help but think that she turned an awkward tension moment into an unbearable elephant in the room. if you two had to work together like this for the next year, she wouldn’t be able to handle not touching you.
she desperately needed to fix it. she needed to normalize things, to show you that you were adults, colleagues, and not completely infatuated with one another.
she grabbed her jacket, that she took off almost an hour ago due to how hot she felt even though it was freezing in the ER, and walked right over to your desk.
you didn’t look up as she approached you, grabbing a wet wipe and scrubbed s single plastic key until the plastic practically started squeaking.
she called your name.
“yes, dr al?”
baran casually slid a hand into the pocket of her scrub pants, leaning one hip against the counter. she gave you a tired smile.
“me and a few of the morning shift crew are heading over to a bar after the handoff,” she said, her tone conversational. she nodded toward the double doors of the ER. “you should come.”
you blinked, completely thrown off by the offer. “oh…i usually just head home.”
“well, my offer still stands,” baran replied, shrugging her shoulders as if ut didn’t matter if you accepted it or not. “it’s a good way to decompress so you don’t take the hospital stress home with you. no pressure, obviously.”
she tapped the desk with her knuckles twice and began to turn away from you.
the moment she was around the corner, out of your sight, her heart was thumping against her ribs. it had been a wonderful performance. it didn’t imply anything. it was a casual invitation to a known hangout.
but why did it feel so wrong?
you know exactly what you’re doing. a voice in her head whispered the truth. she knew the bar would be packed and loud, that you wouldn’t be alone. but she also knew that if you did show up, sitting across from her at the booth with a drink in hand, that she wouldn’t be able to contain the truth anymore.
-
the bar was exactly what you expected, a noisy crowd with a thick scent of beer, fried food, and rain all crammed into a small dingy dive bar.
you sat in the corner of a booth, maybe if you shrink yourself smaller no one would notice you, it’s not like they did anyway. your hands wrapped around a glass of cheap gin and tonic.
you felt like an alien.
three other residents and a nurse were crowded around the table, loudly debating an intubation from earlier in the day, laughing at a patient that swallowed, or attempted to swallow his own keys.
you didn’t contribute to the conversation, only nodding whenever someone turned to look at you.
and then, the bell above the door chimed.
your eyes snapped up as baran walked in.
she had changed out of her scrubs and into a tank top of some kind, a jacket in her arm, with dark jeans, her hair was down over her shoulders in gorgeous curls.
“look who made it,” a nurse, donnie you later learned was his name, yelled waving baran over.
baran smiled smoothly, greeting the table with her casual charm. she grabbed a stool from the bar and slid it to the very end of the booth, placing her directly opposite you.
she asked the bartender for a bourbon. she didn’t look at you, playing her part perfectly, engaging in conversations with other residents about their days, laughing softly whenever one of them compliments her.
you couldn’t stop looking at her, aware of her ever move. your mind was already spinning out of control, watching the way baran’s throat moved when she took a sip of her drink, the way her fingers traced the rim of her glass, the same fingers you had imagined inside of you.
with every sip of alcohol, the familiar ache throbbed harder between your thighs. you took a massive gulp of your drink, praying that the alcohol would numb the heat pooling to your core.
then, under the table, baran shifted her weight.
it was entirely accidental, or at least looked like it was. the bar was crowded, the booth was tight, and baran’s knee slid forward pressing against yours.
your breath hitched, an audible gasp that was thankfully swallowed by the loud laughter of a resident sat next to you.
baran didn’t pull away. her eyes slowly drifted across the table, locking onto yours. the casual expression she had on her face was now replaced by a more intense look. she saw the way you gripped your glass like it was a lifeline.
pull your leg back, baran. pull it back. you are doing exactly what you said you wouldn’t do.
but how could she? how could she when you looked that good? you looked so beautifully undone just from a simple touch of her knee. baran’s thigh pressed a little harder, her knee sliding deliberately between your legs, forcing them just a fraction apart beneath the table.
you let out a quiet whimper, looking down at your drink in desperation to not let out any more noises. a virgin being throughly corrupted in a corwded bar.
baran took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving your face, her heart hammering. her knee didn’t budge. in fact, she kept shifting closer, her leg sliding higher, the pressure of her thigh now pressing directly against the inside of your knee, nudging your legs further apart.
you could feel your pulse in your teeth. you bit down on your lower lip as you stared at a dirty spot on the table. you were trapped, if you were to move you would have fo squeeze against the resident next to you and break the contact. but if you stayed…
god, if you stayed, you were going to ruin your pants right in the middle of the bar. the wetness between your thighs was becoming increasingly impossible to ignore.
baran watched as your chest heaved, tracking the way your breaths came in ragged hitches. the slow rise and fall of your chest. no matter how hard she tried to push it down, her pulse was was racing. she noticed how reactive you were. her mind wondering where else she could touch that would make you flinch.
she felt almost bad for playing with someone like you, someone who had close to no defenses against a person like her. but looking at you, baran knew she was past point of no return.
she didn’t want to be the responsible one anymore. she wanted to take you and your reclusiveness and break you wide open. she needed it.
“hey, dr al, you think dr robby is gonna approve that grant?” one of the residents asked, breaking the bubble.
baran didn’t flinch. her expression instantly went back to the way it was as she turned her head toward the resident. “he won’t have a choice.”
she spoke with absolute clarity. her voice strangely steady and her posture was relaxed.
beneath the table, her leg still teased you with a slow friction, her inner thigh sliding up, the fabric of her jeans rubbing against the cotton of your pants.
you let out another choked sound, your hands flying to the edge of the table to keep yourself from sliding off the seat.
baran continued talking about work stories, her eyes slowly drifting back to you, not missing a single beat. there was a smirk at the corner of her lips now. she was testing you. she wanted to see how much you could take before breaking down.
“you okay?” donnie sat next to you asked, noticing the way you were trembling. “you’re sweating. did you catch that bug from that patient in room three?”
“oh no i’m–i’m fine,” you choked out a desperate mess. you couldn’t do this anymore. your imagination had nothing on the overwhelming reality of baran’s dominance. you were either going to faint or sob if you stayed in this booth for one more second.
“actually,” you stammered, sliding out of the booth, your legs were so weak they felt like jello. you didn’t dare look at baran. “i need some air. excuse me.”
you practically ran toward the door, the air outside hitting you like a slap the second you walked out into the sidewalk. the rain that was pouring outside had now stopped, leaving behind a faint scent of mud.
you leaned back against the alley next to the bar, your hands on your knees, desperately trying to draw air back into your lungs.
the bell above the door chimed again.
your head snapped up. baran stepped out, spotting you instantly, her keys already in her hand.
“you left your phone on the table,” baran said, her voice making your knees lock up.
she held up the device, but didn’t hand it over. instead, she stepped closer, crowding you against the brick wall, her breath smelling like the bourbon she was drinking moments ago.
her fingers brushing intentionally against your hand as she slipped your phone into the pocket of your pants.
baran didn’t touch you yet, she kept leaning in closer with a slowness that felt like hell, her head tilting as she studied your reactions. “why did you whimper when my knee touched your leg?”
you were speechless. in your head, you thought you had composed yourself so well but baran saw right through it.
“look at you,” baran whispered, her voice vibrating right against your lips. “you want me don’t you? you want me so bad you can barely stand up.”
“baran…please,” you whimpered. it was a broken sound lf ultimate surrender. you couldn’t live in your head anymore. all that you had imagined was right there, and the restraint was killing you.
baran’s eyes softened, the heat melting the last shred of composure she had. “say it. tell me what you want.”
“you, baran,” you gasped, tears of pent up frustration pricking the corner of your eyes. “i want you. please stop teasing me.”
a sigh escaped baran’s lips. slowly, so slowly, baran closed the small distance between you. her thumb finally slid against your jaw, her fingers curling around the back of your neck. she didn’t smash her lips into yours. she brushed her lips against yours, a teasing touch that made you let out a small sob.
baran deepened the pressure, testing the waters, before her mouth fully claimed yours.
it was a deep melt of a kiss. baran’s tongue slid lazily against yours, demanding a slow rhythm that drove you insane. your hands flew up, your fingers tangling into the thick curls of baran’s hair, trying to pull her closer, but baran kept the pace controlled.
you would have slid down the brick wall if it wasn’t for baran’s hand clamping firmly around your waist, lifting you slightly, pressing your front against hers.
when baran finally pulled away, her lips were swollen and slick, a string of spit connected your lips, her breathing just as ragged as yours. she rested hrr forehead against yours, her eyes holding a definitive purpose.
“my car is parked around the corner,” baran breathed, her thumb wiping a trace of saliva from the corner fo your swollen mouth. her voice left absolutely no room for argument. “we are going to my house. and i am going to show you what happens when you get what you asked for.”
fuck.
you could only nod, you mind going entirely blank, completely consumed as baran grabbed your hand and led you to her car.
-
the drive to her house was eerily silent, baran kept one hand on the wheel while the other ghosted your thigh. you stared out the window, your mind not being able to catch up to what was happening. the residual taste of baran’s lips had your core pulsing.
when baran unlocked the front door of her house, she didn’t even bother to turn on the lights. she kicked the door shut with her heel.
“take your jacket off,” baran said.
your hands shook as you pulled your jacket off of you, dropping it blindly onto a chair. underneath, you were still in your hospital undershirt and sweatpants. you felt painfully exposed, laying almost bare before the older woman.
baran shed her jacket off, revealing her arms to you again. the same arms you couldn’t stop staring at while you were sitting across her in the bar. she didn’t waste time teasing you, her hands grabbing the waistband of your pants and pulled them down to your knees in one smooth motion.
you let out a gasp, your hands moving down to cover yourself, but baran caught your wrists, pinning them behind your back with just one hand.
she leaned down, her eyes dropping to the damp patch in the center of your underwear. a heat flared in baran’s face, the evidence of how destroyed you were just from simple touches.
“oh baby,” she murmured, as she used her free hand to touch the soaked fabric. you arched your back, a helpless sob tearing from your throat as her long fingers pressed against your clit. “you’ve been drowning in this mess all night, haven’t you?”
before you could respond, her lips met yours in a hungry kiss. her tongue tracing the roof of your mouth as she pulled off her tank top, no bra on, revealing her round breats. you responded with a curiosity, your hands hesitating before letting your fingertips graze baran’s exposed skin and dipping lower to the waistband of her pants.
baran’s body ached, her hand catching yours and guiding it down between her thighs, pressing it against the damp heat of her pussy through thin panties.
with a low moan, baran sank into herself, pulling you closer to her as she led you to her couch. you straddled her, your hands still cupping her heat as she bucked her hips against your palm.
your natural instincts surfaced despite your inexperience, your fingers slipping inside baran’s slick folds to feel ber swollen lips and clit with strokes that made her hips fly off the couch. the room filled with wet sounds, as baran arched into your touch, pleas for more while you continued your actions.
“wait, wait–fuck baby,” she moaned, pulling your hand away from her. “i want to make you come first.”
those words made you dizzy, you only stared at her as she flipped you over so she was now the one on top. your legs parted instinctively.
baran knelt between your thighs, as she reached out to slide your underwear down your legs, throwing them to the side. baran took a moment to stare at your pussy, your untouched slickness, she almost moaned.
her own hunger rose as she slid two fingers down coating them with your wetness. she stroked up finding your clit, and you shrieked. she pushed the two fingers into your enterance gasping at the way you gripped her fingers.
“shit, you’re so tight. how many people have touched you like this?”
“none,” you managed, tears of pleasure spilling over your lashes, your hands clutching the cushions. “nobody. ever. i just– me only me. i touch myself.”
baran’s fingers froze. a wave of satisfaction tore through her chest, knowing that no one before her had touched you made something grow within her. you spent your whole life pent up in your own head and now you were giving it to her.
“yeah? you touch yourself?” baran echoed, her voice dropping as her fingers pulled out of your hole and back up to your clit. “what do you think of when you touch yourself?”
“you.”
baran swore she almost came from that alone, her fingers working through your wetness making you let out the loudest and filthiest moans she’s ever heard.
“good, baby. you’re going to learn how a real womans touch feels like.”
baran didn’t rush, but her focus became intense. she hooked your knees over her shoulders, opening you up completely. she leaned down her hair brushing against the inside of your thighs ss her mouth replaced her fingers.
the first touch of her wet, hot tongue against your folds made you lose your mind.
she pressed kisses along your inner thighs first, breathing in the musky heat before dragging her tongue in a slow stripe up your slick folds. the taste hit her like a revelation, salty and sweet at the same time. she hummed low in approval, circling your clit with focus before sealing her lips around it to suck gently.
your hips jerked at the contact, a moan escaped you as baran’s tongue delved deeper, lapping at the entrance with strokes that sent sparks up your spine.
baran’s hands gripped your thighs to hold you steady while her mouth worked with an eagerness that made your walls flutter and clench around nothing.
sensation flooded your senses, the heat of baran’s tongue sending jolts of pleasure through your core as you arched and gasped, fingers tightening in the strands of baran’s hair.
you broke into needy whimpers. the room filled with the sound of slick and your own ragged breathing. sweat beaded along your breasts as baran alternated between strokes and flicks against your clit, building a pressure that left your legs trembling around her.
as you got closer to your orgasm, baran lifted her head looking at you with her lips glistening and eyes dark with lust.
“baran, i want–” you struggled to speak as baran kept lapping at your cunt.
“what do you want baby?”
“i want to taste you.”
baran stopped, looking back up at you with a newfound curiosity. the tension in your lower stomach loosened as she crawled up along your trembling body.
“yeah? you wanna taste me?” she laughs against your lips, leaning down to kiss you as you tasted yourself on her lips.
a feeling of confidence took over your body as you grabbed her arms and flipped her on her back. baran let out a gasp as you took control, her eyes following your every move.
you kiss down her breasts, before moving down to her stomach, then to where she needed you most.
“fuck, are you sure?” she akss her hips bucking into your face. “do you–do you know what to do?”
you didn’t answer, only lowered yourself into her heat and kissed her there. baran groaned, one hand fisting in your hair, guiding you deeper. your tongue found her clit, circling and sucking as two fingers slid into her heat, curling to stroke that sensitive spot inside.
“yes, fuck yes,” she moaned, her head falling back.
she was speechless. how could a virgin be this good at eating someone out? you had to have taken a masterclass on oral fixation.
baran rocked her hips, riding your face with a growing urgency. but then, she pulled you up suddenly, her lips crashing into yours in a kiss that tasted of your and baran’s arousal, then pulled your hips to hers. your legs straddling her thigh, grinding your dripping pussy against her smooth skin before shifting to align your slick folds together.
“shit–” you cry out holding onto baran’s shoulders.
“i’ve wanted to do this for so long,” baran groaned. “ever since– ah– ever since i layed eyes on you.”
baran’s clit rubbed against yours with every rocking motion, your arousal mixing with hers. her low moans quickly turned into needy whimpers as she let you take the lead and ride her.
“ngh– baran,” you choke out, biting her shoulder.
you could feel baran twitch beneath you, a broken moan leaving her lips while her thighs quivered around you.
the pressure inside baran snapped first. she buried her face into your neck, teeth grazing your skin as she rode out the high. the noises she was making only spurred you on to move faster. you followed seconds later, your own orgasm hitting with a muffled cry against baran’s shoulder.
“you’re perfect baby,” she whispered as you fall on top of her, completely worn out. “where did you learn how to do that?”
you blinked, lifting your head up to look at her, suddenly feeling naked in every non sexual way.
“i…what?”
“you told me you were virgin,” baran mocked, her fingers brushing against your cheeks.
“i am,” you muttered. “i was.”
“it seemed to me like you knew exactly what you were doing,” she teased.
“you were being very obvious about what was working,” you teased back. “very vocal.”
baran’s smirk widened, leaning closer to capture your lips in a kiss before pulling away and biting on your lower lip.
“is that so?” she whispered.
“please stop,” you swallowed hard, your face now red.
“no,” she said bluntly, though her eyes were soft. she reached out to the space beside her, grabbed a blanket, and pulled it over the both of you. “i’m completely worn out. go to sleep before i make you show me what else you can do.”
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