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#okay I loved absolutely everything about this!!

keerysfreckles · 1 day

Text

newsies — MV1 (smau)

pairing: max verstappen x musical theater fem!reader faceclaim; kara lindsay !

summary: when lando drags max to his favorite musical, max takes a liking to the leading lady

warnings: none!

a/n: this is 100% made for me, i can't shut up abt newsies or jeremy jordan... sooo why not combine my two loves (newsies and f1 😁)

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

yourusername just posted !

liked by jeremymjordan, landonorris and 11,037 others

yourusername NEWSIES OPENS ON BROADWAY IN ONE WEEK WHAT IS LIFE

view all comments

user1 tickets have been secured since last year IM SO EXCITED

user2 oh to get a hug from jeremy jordan 😞

jeremymjordan IM EXCITED ARE YOU EXCITED

yourusername I CAN'T SIT STILL JERE

user3 "jere" they're too cute 😭😭

mikefaist guess who has a front row seat 😁

yourusername MIKEEE 🥹🥹

user4 OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING OKAY EVERYBODY STAY CALM

user5 oh i've been waiting YEARS to see y/n in a broadway musical

landonorris missing fp1 to be there 🫡

yourusername lando no that's your job??

landonorris not that important 🤷‍♂️ plus there's someone i want you to meet

user6 someone to meet?? another driver??

yourusername just posted !

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 19,728 others

yourusername opening night, race weekend, and max picking me up from rehearsals! (eventful week if you ask me)

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user1 ABSOLUTELY LOVED THE SHOW!!!!!!!!

user2 y/n and jeremy being the power duo on stage IKTR!!

user3 lando looks like he's hating the rain 😭

user4 WAIT PAUSE WHATS MAX DOING THERE

user5 PICKING HER UP TOO??????

landonorris your fault i dnf'd ☹️

yourusername not my fault it was raining??

user6 WAIT WHAT IF MAX WAS THE ONE LANDO BROUGHT WITH HIM TO OPENING NIGHT

user7 oh your onto something

maxverstappen1 still can't believe you know how to tap dance AND sing at the same time

yourusername i'd say it's harder to be on broadway than it is being an f1 driver

maxverstappen1 no need to go around lying on social media sweetheart

twitter !

yourusername just posted !

liked by landonorris, jeremymjordan and 20,188 others

yourusername spent my time off with this guy, anyone know who he is?

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user1 he's so pookie ugh

jeremymjordan come back to new york ben and mike won't shut up about you (i guess i miss you too)

yourusername only if max can come too

user2 the duo i didn't know i needed

user3 okay but what's max's favorite newsies song 👀

maxverstappen1 i think he's a formula one driver, could be mistaken

yourusername thanks for clearing that up!

user4 max slowly becoming all of y/n's feed is so entertaining

user5 y/n and max the unexpected duo i didn't know i needed

landonorris you didn't hang out with me 😔😔😔

yourusername sorry max is just better company???

twitter !

yourusername just posted !

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 305,984 others

yourusername when f1 update accounts expose you and your boyfriend 😞😞

view all comments

user1 SO IT WAS THEM??????

user2 PLS THE CAPTION SHE'S TOO FUNNY

maxverstappen1 the secret was coming out sooner or later love

yourusername i know but now we can't soft launch ☹️☹️

user3 THE CUTEST COUPLE ON THE GRID

landonorris call me cupid 😏

yourusername no

maxverstappen1 no

user4 NEW BF MAX CONTENT IM SO READY

jeremymjordan proud to say i knew before twitter did 😁

maxverstappen1 just posted !

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 450,177 others

maxverstappen1 dating y/n means listening to the newsies soundtrack on repeat ❤️

view all comments

user1 THE MIDDLE SLIDE THEYRE TOO CUTE

user2 this had to mean max has a fav newsies song omg

jeremymjordan take care of her please

maxverstappen1 never plan on stopping

user3 y/n's bway bf 🤝 y/n's real bf

landonorris CALL. ME. CUPID.

maxverstappen1 still no

user4 THEY'RE MY EVERYTHING OMG

yourusername i don't think you can have your phone out in the theater sir 🤨🤨

yousuername but seriously you love the newsies soundtrack

maxverstappen1 i never said that

yourusername so what do you go to all the shows for??

maxverstappen1 my beautiful talented stunning girlfriend of course 😉

437 notes · View notes

x0xomady · 2 days

Note

Could you write something about Harry helping y/n through serious pain? Like labor or a chronic illness?

Little Love

⋆⭒˚｡⋆₊ ⊹

summary: just a lil blurb! the time has come for harry to become a dad and you’re not sure you’re ready (harry styles x female reader)

(i don’t know much about birth or labor, i’m a 20 year old with no kids. so don’t judge me if something is wrong lmao)

warnings: pain, pregnancy, labor, nothing too bad!

⋆⭒˚｡⋆₊ ⊹

being pregnant is one of the scariest and most beautiful things.

as i lay there in bed beside harry, i couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety swirling inside of me. it was amazing to think about the life growing inside of me, but at the same time, the thought of giving birth was absolutely terrifying. i worried about the pain, the uncertainties, and the physical toll it would take on my body. it was like i was preparing for a marathon that i'm not quite sure i’m was ready for.

as my hormones surged and my emotions became more intense, i often found myself overwhelmed by the enormity of the changes taking place within me. it was like a roller-coaster of sensations and emotions, and it was sometimes hard to find my footing amidst it all.

and yet, despite the fear and uncertainty that loomed over me, there was also a well of hope and joy deep within my heart. every time i felt the baby kick or heard its heartbeat, i knew there was something magical happening inside of me too.

i lay there, lost in thought, my eyes drifted over to harry. he was fast asleep beside me, his body sprawled out underneath the covers with one hand securely draped around my waist. his face was peaceful, and his chest rose and fell steadily with each breath he took.

i couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, feeling a surge of love and appreciation for the man who was soon to be the father of my child.

my hand reaches over and gently touches his cheek, marveling at how he could sleep so soundly amidst the whirlwind of emotions that were swirling around inside of me. i knew that he was excited about becoming a dad, but i also knew that he was probably feeling just as nervous as i was.

still, there was something reassuring about having him beside me, anchoring me to this moment despite the unknowns that lay ahead.

as i ran my fingers through his soft curls, his eyes slowly fluttered open, and he looked at me, his green eyes filled with a mixture of grogginess and concern. "hey," he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. "is everything okay?"

"actually… i think the contractions might be starting," i finally admitted, a small tinge of fear creeping into my voice. i took a deep breath, trying to stay calm even as a wave of anxiety washed over me.

harry's eyebrows furrowed with concern as he sat up a bit, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "wait, what? contractions? are you sure?" his voice was tinged with disbelief, but there was also a hint of nerves. he leaned closer to me, his hand reaching out to gently touch my stomach. "how long has this been going on?"

"oh god, i don't know. maybe an hour or so," i replied, wincing as a particularly strong contraction came on. i grasped his hand tightly, my grip involuntarily squeezing his fingers.

harry's eyes widened with a mixture of shock and concern. "okay, okay. don't panic." his voice was steadier now, although i could still hear the subtle tremble of nerves. he gently took my face in his hands, looking into my eyes. "we need to time these contractions, okay? see if they're far apart or getting closer together."

i couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me when i saw harry’s reaction. i don’t know who’s more worried, the person about to go through labor or the panicked british guy.

harry raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "what? what are you laughing at, pretty girl?" he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and puzzlement. the fear that had momentarily gripped him seemed to leave slightly, replaced instead with a tender warmth in his eyes.

"oh, nothing," i replied, shaking my head slightly as i winced again at another spasm of pain. "it's just funny, you know? here i am going through the beginnings of labor, and you're the one freaking out."

harry chuckled lightly, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "well, can you blame me? this is some pretty scary stuff," he admitted, his thumb gently stroking my cheek.

i nodded silently, feeling a sense of comfort in his words. i knew it wouldn’t be easy, but having him beside me made me feel like i could face anything. i snuggled closer to him, burying my face in his chest as another contraction gripped me.

"breathe," harry murmured, his hand gently rubbing my back. "just focus on your breathing. in and out, slow and steady. you got this, sweet girl."

i nodded, taking a shaky breath as another contraction hit me. i focused on the feeling of harry's hand on my back, letting it ground me and keep me from succumbing to the pain and fear that threatened to consume me. slowly, the contraction passed, leaving me feeling drained and exhausted, but reassured that i wasn't alone in this.

"how far apart are they now?" i asked, my voice hoarse with strain. my hands gripping harry’s larger ones tightly.

harry glanced at the clock on his phone, his eyes narrowing as he calculated the time. "about five minutes," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of concern. "they're getting closer together. we should probably start thinking about heading to the hospital soon."

my heart leapt into my throat as harry gave me the news. five minutes apart already? fuck, this was happening a lot faster than i had thought it would.

"okay," i took a deep breath, trying to steady the panicked feeling that was welling up inside me. "okay, let's do this. help me get up, and let's pack the bags. we need to get to the hospital."

harry nodded silently, his expression serious as he quickly kicked off the blankets and got out of bed. he grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet, keeping a supportive arm around my waist as we made our way to the closet to grab our bags.

we moved quickly and efficiently, our nerves and excitement fueling us as we rushed around the house, gathering anything we thought we might need for the hospital.

finally, with our bags packed and essentials in hand, we headed to the car. harry helped me into the passenger seat, quickly tossing our bags into the trunk and then getting into the driver's seat. as he turned on the car and pulled out of the driveway, i could see the anxious tension in his eyes.

the drive to the hospital was a blur of nerves and discomfort. harry's knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, and i could see his jaw clenching and unclenching as he willed himself to stay calm.

the contractions continued to come at regular intervals, each one making me gasp and clutch at whatever surface was nearest.

“fuck- harry” i groan out in pain.

harry glanced quickly over at me, his face immediately creased with concern. "what? what is it? are you okay?" he reached over and grabbed my hand, his grip tight and desperate.

"no- i’m not alright. the contractions are getting stronger," i whimpered, my breath hissing between clenched teeth. "can we get there any faster? please?"

harry let out a low curse under his breath, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "i'm going as fast as i can, okay? just try to breathe, sweetheart. we're almost there."

i nodded weakly, my chest heaving with each breath as i fought against the pain. i clung to harry's hand, finding some small measure of comfort in his presence. with each contraction, the fear and anxiety seemed to build, mingling with the intense pain and leaving me feeling overwhelmed.

"just think," harry said, his voice suddenly quiet. "when we get there, we're going to see our baby. our son or daughter. that's worth it, right?" a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and i couldn't help but cling to the hope in his words.

i nodded again, closing my eyes and trying to picture it. i could almost see the tiny, wriggling bundle in my arms, hear the soft, sweet sound of its cry. somehow, just imagining it made the pain a little easier to bear.

before i knew it, we were pulling into the hospital parking lot. harry helped me out of the car, his arm wrapped securely around me as we limped towards the entrance. we were greeted by a group of nurses who ushered us inside, quickly guiding us towards the maternity ward.

as we entered the hospital, the nurses couldn't help but steal glances at harry, their eyes widening slightly in recognition. a few of them even whispered to each other, their voices tinged with excitement as they recognized the famous singer.

it was strange to see the star-struck reactions of the nurses, but i couldn't blame them. harry was a celebrity, after all. one nurse even gasped quietly under her breath, "is that…?"

but despite the subtle buzz of excitement around us, harry's focus never wavered from me. he held me close, his gaze fixed on me as we continued making our way to the maternity ward.

to be honest, it was a little irritating to have so many eyes on us as we navigated our way through the maternity ward. i was in pain, and the last thing i wanted was to be the center of attention. but i could feel the gazes of the nurses following us, their whispers echoing in my ears. it made me feel like a zoo exhibit, on display for everyone to gawk at.

harry, though, seemed to take it all in stride. he kept his arm tightly around me, his focus entirely on me and getting me settled in.

i could tell that he was a bit uncomfortable with the attention, but he never once let it show. instead, he simply gave the nurses a small smile remaining his normal charming self and guiding me toward the room.

once we were alone in the room, the door closing behind us, i finally let out a long sigh of relief. the bright lights and antiseptic smell of the hospital environment was a far cry from our cozy bed at home, but at least here i would have the care and support of the medical staff. and, of course, the unwavering presence of harry by my side.

harry helped me onto the hospital bed, the crisp white sheets cool beneath my skin. he sat down beside me, taking my hand in his own and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"how are you feeling, love?" he asked softly, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of my hand.

“like absolute shit…” i mumble, managing a tiny smile at the thought of our baby.

harry chuckled softly, his thumb still tracing circles on my hand. "yeah, i can only imagine. but hey, think about it. we're about to see our baby, y'know? that should make it all worth it," he grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

i smile weakly at that, nodding in agreement. the thought of holding our baby in my arms for the first time was enough to make me forget about the pain, at least for a moment. "yeah, that's true. i can't wait to meet them," i said, feeling a surge of excitement mixed with the exhaustion and pain.

harry leaned closer, his breath warm on my cheek as he reached out to cup my face. "i love you," he said softly, his voice full of emotion. "and i'm so proud of you for being so strong through all of this."

i felt a wave of warmth spread through me at his words, banishing the earlier irritation at the nurses' stares. "i love you too," i whispered, feeling a fresh wave of determination wash over me.

we sat together in silence for a while, the ticking of the clock on the wall the only sound aside from our gentle breathing. the contractions continued to come and go, each one growing more intense than the last, but i found comfort in harry's presence, in his unwavering support and love.

after a few moments, there was a gentle knock at the door, and a nurse poked her head inside. "how are you doing, mrs. styles?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern for me. "are you ready to have us take a look and see how far along you are?"

i nodded, feeling a surge of nervousness mixed with excitement. "yeah, i think i'm ready," i said, my voice a little shaky. harry squeezed my hand again, silently reassuring me that everything would be okay.

the nurse nodded and left the room, returning a few moments later with a few other medical staff. they quickly got to work, hooking me up to monitors and checking my vital signs. the room was suddenly buzzing with activity as they prepared for the upcoming delivery.

despite the commotion, i felt strangely calm, my focus entirely on harry's reassuring presence beside me. as the nurses bustled around us, checking my dilation and positioning, i held onto his hand, finding strength in his touch.

harry saw my worry and smiled a little bit. “ya know… i already have my first dad joke lined up.”

i roll my eyes and sigh already knowing where this was going.

harry grinned mischievously, clearly pleased at my reaction. "yep. i've been practicing for months now. want to hear it?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

i couldn't help the eye roll that passed over my face, but deep down, i was secretly looking forward to hearing his terrible joke. "okay, fine. hit me with it," i replied, unable to hide my amusement.

harry cleared his throat, his demeanor changing into a mock serious expression as he delivered the punchline. "why is it impossible to find true love with a mermaid?" he asked, pausing dramatically.

despite my amusement, i couldn't help but play along. "i don't know, harry. why is it impossible to find true love with a mermaid?" i repeated, struggling to keep the smile off my face.

harry's grin widened, and he leaned in close, an exaggerated whisper escaping his lips as he delivered the punchline. "because they're all too shallow!" he said, his green eyes bright with a mix of humor and anticipation.

i groaned inwardly, but at the same time, i couldn't help but laugh. it was so silly, so predictable, and yet, there was something endearing about the fact that he had been practicing this joke for months. "oh my god, harry. that was terrible," i said, shaking my head with fond exasperation.

harry chuckled, clearly pleased with my reaction. "oh come on, you know you loved it. admit it." he teased, giving my hand a light squeeze.

“i love you but i hate your shitty jokes” i grin and roll my eyes at harry’s big dumb smile.

harry chuckled again, his smile growing wider. "yeah, yeah. i know. but you still laughed, so who's the real winner here?" he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. despite the corny dad joke, i couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a surge of affection for the goofy, lovable man beside me.

“yeah, yeah save it for the baby.” i giggle and shake my head. despite the pain and worry i had, harry made me feel truly happy.

harry grinned once more, clearly enjoying the banter. "hey, our baby is going to need some entertainment too. might as well start practicing now."

i shook my head, but inside i felt a warmth spread through me at his words. here we were, about to bring a new life into the world, and he was still making me laugh with his silly jokes.

just then, the nurse re-entered the room, a gentle smile on her face. "mrs. styles, i think you're ready to start pushing now." she said softly, her eyes filled with encouragement.

my heart leapt into my throat at her words, the reality of the situation fully hitting me. i took a deep breath, looking over at harry and seeing the mixture of excitement and anxiety in his eyes.

"okay. i'm ready," i said, my voice tinged with determination. harry smiles and gives me an encouraging kiss on the cheek.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆₊ ⊹

for the next few hours, time seemed to blur into a haze of pain, exhaustion, and sheer willpower. with harry's hand tightly grasping mine and the steady encouragement of the medical staff, i pushed as hard as i could, each contraction bringing us closer to meeting our baby.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the room was filled with the sound of a baby's cry, the sweet and unmistakable sound of new life. the nurse placed our bundle of joy gently on my chest, and tears filled my eyes as i looked down at our child for the first time.

harry's eyes lit up as he gazed down at the tiny, wriggling baby in my arms, his expression filled with awe and sheer adoration. "it's a girl," he breathed, his voice choked with emotion.

"we have a daughter." he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of our baby's head, his love and joy palpable in the air.

i felt a rush of emotions as i cradled our daughter in my arms, the pain and exhaustion of labor fading into the background. in that moment, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming love i felt for our child and the man beside me.

harry reached out, gently stroking our daughter's soft cheek. "she's perfect," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. "absolutely perfect." i leaned my head back against the pillows, feeling a deep sense of contentment wash over me.

the room was filled with a gentle quiet, broken only by the soft sound of our daughter's shallow breathing and the occasional whisper from the medical staff taking care of us. i felt a sense of awe and disbelief, finally understanding the true miracle of life and the immense love that comes with it.

“so which name are we going to pick?” i ask looking up from her little pink face to see harry looking at her with wide eyes.

i look down at our daughter, her little face scrunched up in a frown as she slept peacefully in my arms. "what do you think, love?" harry asked softly, wrapping an arm around me and gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face.

“how about… lilah?”

"lilah," i repeated, trying out the name on my tongue. i liked the way it sounded, how it rolled off my tongue. "it's pretty. i like it." i looked up at harry, seeking his approval.

he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "yeah, i like it too. lilah. it's perfect." he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, his hand coming to rest on the bundle in my arms. he leans down and whispers softly to our daughter. "lilah styles… welcome to the world little love.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆₊ ⊹

just a sweet little blurb nothing too fancy! hope you love it ! <3

-xoxo⋆₊ ⊹

#harry styles #x0xomady #harry edward styles #one direction #harry styles fluff #fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #dom harry styles #smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #dadrry

227 notes · View notes

hqbaby · 3 days

Text

twelve — i think you do

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2k content. profanity, naoya’s annoying, reader and sukuna suck at feelings

You probably should’ve known the way this day was going to unfold with how it started. How did it start, you ask? Oh, with the most appropriate of things: A broken elevator.

It didn’t help that you also had absolutely no time for this shit. You had woken up late after spending most of the night tossing and turning and thinking, against your will, about the kiss you shared with your best friend just yesterday. The stupid kiss that came out of nowhere, the one you did not expect at all, the one you… actually liked.

But never mind that. You can think about that later. All you know is that the shitty domino effect of events has led you here, running into your class’ lecture hall—the class that you’re not quite sure you’re going to pass—only to sit at the very back, where there’s absolutely no way you’re not going to doze off.

“Oh, look at the odds.”

You turn to look at the guy sitting to your right. Fucking Naoya.

He’s looking at you with a wide smirk on his face and it’s taking everything in you to not just punch it off.

You’ve always hated the guy. Ever since you and Satoru started dating and he introduced you to his housemates. You liked the other boys. Suguru, Yuji, and Yuta. They were all sweet and they were all kind to you, the initially nervous girlfriend, so much so that you all ended up becoming friends. You liked Satoru’s housemates. All of them except Naoya.

You don’t know what it is about him that you hate so much. Is it the snarky remarks? Is it the annoying way he keeps showing up in your classes? Is it the fact that he always had something to say about you and Satoru’s relationship? Is it the—

“I heard about you and Sukuna.”

You glare at him. Fuck Naoya.

“Unlike you, I’m actually here to learn,” you tell him quietly, unlike him and his disregard for the people around you. “So if you would just shut up, that would be great.”

You’re able to catch a few of the professor's words, quickly jotting them down on your tablet, before Naoya is leaning over onto your desk and reaching for a strand of your hair. You grab his hand before he touches it.

He just grins at you, all smug and absolutely shitty. “You’d be prettier if you smiled.”

“I will break your wrist.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

You throw his hand away and shove him off of your desk. “Leave me alone, asshole.”

“You sure do have a thing for bad ideas,” he muses aloud, a few of the people in front of him glancing backwards because he is just talking so loud. “You’d think after Satoru, you’d learn your lesson. Guess athletes really aren’t that smart.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You know he’s just being himself, his obnoxious, mean self, but some part of you can’t help but believe his words. They’re stupid, you know that, but they manage to get to you.

They always do.

You look at him and purse your lips. “I just wanna get through this class,” you say. “I’ll listen to your bullshit after. Just let me actually pay attention so I don’t flunk out of here.”

His grin grows wider. “Okay,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “Who am I to stand in the way of your education?”

The lecture doesn’t last long enough. You usually find these classes to be too much, too tedious, too endless. But today it ends fast and it ends soon. You’ve barely just started to scribble down as much as you can before the professor ends the class, leaving you to pack your things as quickly as possible before Naoya can hold you to your promises.

You’re too slow and his arm wraps around your shoulder as he leads you out of the classroom, like the two of you are just old friends having an absolute blast.

“I have another class to get to,” you tell him, trying to shove his arm off of you. Much to your dismay, Naoya’s stronger than you are, and once he has his grip on you, he has no intentions of letting go.

“I’ll walk you to class,” he chirps. “I wanna hear more about your life. Mai mentioned you were injured at your last game.”

You sigh. There’s no way you can shake him off now. “A sprain,” you tell him. “I’m heading back to training tomorrow, so it’s all good now.”

“A sprain,” he muses before turning to look at you, all giddy and terrible. “You know, that’s how I found out about Sukuna. Mai mentioned that he was there when you went down, had a staredown with Satoru and all.”

“I bet you tormented that information out of her.”

“What does it matter?” Naoya hums. “Sukuna though. Interesting choice.”

You turn the corner and make a beeline for your classroom, forcing Naoya to drag himself along with you as he laughs.

“If I were your boyfriend, I’d be really offended by the fact that you don’t want to talk about me.”

You scoff, finally freeing yourself from his grasp as you lean on the door to your classroom. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not my boyfriend then.”

Your (fake) boyfriend in question is sitting in a classroom on the other side of campus. Contrary to popular belief, Sukuna isn’t all always out and about, drinking and fucking random girls. For a good chunk of his life, he actually finds it in himself to go to class and not totally suck at them.

Back in high school, he didn’t care so much about doing well in life. He was perfectly fine just coasting by. He’d wonder why that all stopped—replaced by an overwhelming urge to do something with himself, actually be a useful member of society—but he already knows. Somewhere between that one afternoon when he went up to the rooftop of his high school building and now, he’d found his life intrinsically intertwined with yours.

And he hasn’t found a way out since.

“Where are we studying?” he asks Choso, getting up as the professor bids farewell to the class and reminds them of the paper they have to turn in before finals.

The other boy shrugs. “We can go to Mahito’s.”

“That place is gross.” Sukuna wrinkles his nose. “You wanna check out the library? We can just do it there.”

Choso slings his bag over his shoulder. “Yeah, sure.”

They make their way out of the classroom and into the frenzied hall. Around them, students run over to classes, cry to their friends over a low grade, ask each other where they’re going out to drink later that night. It’s a familiar chaos, this chaos. One that Sukuna didn’t think he’d ever come to terms with before.

“I wanna go home,” he grumbled as you dragged him through the quad.

It was the first week of classes and Sukuna really did want to go home. His packed schedule and unlucky pick of horrifying professors was getting to him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he decided to call it quits.

He’d tried college. Maybe it just wasn’t for him.

But you just tutted and pulled him along. “I have something to show you.”

Sukuna frowned. “I’ve seen everything there is to see. What is—”

“Look!”

The two of you stopped in front of the pond behind the science building. There was a crowd gathered around the water and, in the darkness of the growing night around you, a steady stream of lanterns began to float onto the surface of the pond.

In a matter of seconds, the whole thing was alight with lanterns.

You grabbed his hand and grinned at him. “Magical, right?”

He found himself staring at you as you happily pointed out a few lanterns shaped like lotuses. You were like a kid discovering life for the first time.

He realized he wouldn’t get sick of the sight any time soon.

“Yeah. Pretty fucking magical.”

“You’re quiet.”

Sukuna snaps out of his daze. “What?”

He doesn’t know how, but he and Choso have already found their way to the library. They’re sitting at a table near that one fan that always conks out. There’s a couple basically making out on the table beside them, a boy with his head face down on the one in front, an empty spot behind them.

Choso furrows his brows. “You good, man?”

I don’t know. Am I?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sukuna says. He flips through the textbook in front of him and finds that he has no idea what he was supposed to be reading in the first place. “Actually, I think I’m pretty fucked.”

Choso looks at him now with amusement. It isn’t every day that he gets to watch Sukuna be more than a little out of it. Who is he to turn down a free show?

“What’s up?” he asks. “You jerk off a little too much?”

Sukuna scowls. “Fuck you. I’m studying without you.”

Choso laughs, prodding at the guy from across the table. “I’m just kidding,” he says. “What’s the matter though?”

Now, Sukuna’s been trying very hard to not think about your kiss. At first, he managed to brush it off as a little mishap. Maybe something you’ll both awkwardly address the next time you meet before things go back to normal. It’s not something he has to worry himself about.

But here he is.

Worrying.

“You promise not to tell anyone?” he says, and he immediately feels stupid. What is he? A middle schooler with a crush? As if.

But Choso indulges him anyway. “‘Course,” he says. He’s used to people coming up to him with stupid ideas. Granted, “people” usually just means his younger brother who has a buttload of stupid ideas, but he’s gotten pretty good at keeping them to himself. “So, what is it?”

“It’s a girl.”

“It always is.”

Sukuna groans. Why is this so fucking hard?

“I dunno. I just—I kinda kissed her.”

At that, Choso can’t help but snort. He can’t help it. He’s heard all about Sukuna’s conquests, he knows more than he wants to know about the nasty details of these encounters. So it tickles him pink to hear Sukuna worrying about a kiss.

“What’s so funny?” Sukuna demands. He shakes his head and looks away, all flustered and embarrassed. “Y’know what? Never mind. Let’s just study graphs or whatever.”

“It’s not funny,” Choso says, laughing, “it’s just I never expected you to be all worked up because of a kiss. That’s all.”

Your best friend sighs. “It wasn’t just a kiss,” he says. “It was who the kiss was with. We just… have a lot of history.”

“Ah, so it was a kiss with feelings. Now I get it.”

“It wasn’t feelings.” Sukuna makes a face, but he soon reverts back to his uncertainty. “Was it?”

Choso shrugs. “Well, I don’t know the girl and I don’t know your history,” he says simply. “But chances are, the reason why you feel so weird about it is because there are some feelings involved.”

Sukuna leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. He considers the thought for a moment. He considers why he did it in the first place. He considers the way you looked, all confused in front of him. He considers the urge, the pull he felt that just dragged him forward. He considers how he kissed you, and considers how you kissed back.

He considers how soft your lips felt against his. He considers how you touched his shoulders, gripping onto him in that scared and nervous way of yours. He considers how he held you. He considers how sweet you tasted, your lip gloss sticking to his lips even after he pulled away.

“You think I have feelings?”

“Yeah,” Choso says, chuckling as he turns back to his book. “I think you do.”

notes. this chap is pretty tame, just a lil look into the aftermath of the kiss 😌 i think this is gonna be chillest chap for a while though 🫣 there are also a few hints of what’s to come if you squint real hard

#hqbaby.miu #hqbaby #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #gojo x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader

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sexilene · 2 days

Note

kinda need some 80s slasher jj pleaseee!! like maybe he tries to apologize but like reader avoids him and that gets him mad!! thank you angel!

oooh! absolutely!! i literally love anything 80s you have no idea, i love talking about it!! (ignore the spelling mistakes, i'm exhausted lol)

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - non con, cock warming, blood, death, violence, obsession, squirting, slight breeding kink, gun mentions, dark!jj - ₊˚⊹

"it's almost 1 in the morning jj, go away!" you whisper yell at him, lightly pushing his shoulder to get him to leave and climb back down your balcony.

"i tried to talk to you all day. you kept walkin' away from me…what's up with that?" he whisper yells back, not budging, he walks closer to the balcony window as if he's going to enter your room.

"i was about to go to sleep jj."

"nah, your light was on." he shakes his head.

"go away please!" you plead with him, hoping it is enough to just leave you alone.

"hey, you're not scared a'me? are you? cause, you don't need ta'be. i'm still the same jj."

"you killed someone!" you back away from him, placing your hand on the handle of the balcony door.

"well okay, but i apologized that day in the car and i've been trying to talk to you and apologize again, you were the one who kept avoiding me." he reasons, holding the door open with his hand.

"i accept your apology, now please go!" you whisper yell again.

"nah nah nah…you don't mean it, i need you to know that i fucked up n'i'm sorry."

"that you killed danny?"

"no, that you saw that i killed danny…look your my frie- no your my girl and i had to do somethin' cuz that asshole was just-" you put your hand up to get him to stop rambling "jj stop." but he just takes the opportunity to push past you and walk into your room.

"never saw your room before…y'like janet jackson?" he laughs softly and points to the poster on your wall and then looks over at the cassette tapes on your dresser. "…and madonna huh?"

"jayjay my parents are gonna freak if they wake up and find a boy in my room!" you grab onto his arm, trying to drag him back out.

"ya' got any dirty movies?" he diverts his attention over to your little tv on the other side of your dresser.

"seriously! beat it!" he sighs dramatically and lets you walk him back over to the balcony. "fine. see ya tomorrow then?"

"yes. yeah…you will, goodnight," you assure him, watching as he nods, satisfied with your answer he climbs back down the side of your house.

you tried you best to smile at him when you happened to cross paths or make eye contact but you just couldn't help avoiding him, i mean he did still totally freak you out. you had just about survived the day without having to talk to him but then on your way back to your house you see him leaning against his truck, parked on the side walk. you decide to just pretend you don't see him and walk right past him.

"hold it." he grabs onto your arm tightly, stopping you from walking away. "…listen, i don't know if i was a total dip for apologizing cause the whole point was t'get you to stop ignoring me, and clearly the message was not received. " he squints, obviously not very happy with you.

"i was just super busy and i had a major test to study for so thats wh-"

"no no hey, don't worry about it babydoll, i know how you can make it up t'me," he loosens his grip on your arm and gives you a charming smile, dimples showing and everything.

"o-ohkay…what did you have in mind?" you begin to relax at how his demeanor has changed, hopefully, you think.

"rented this gnarly tape n'i wanted to watch it with you. your folks home?"

"no…they don't back tonight till 3 in the morning…big dinner benefit thing, they usually get drunk and stay really late into the night…" you ramble.

"right. great. i'll drive you home."

"ohkay jayjay…thank you," you respond shyly as if you two had just met and he was asking you on a date.

"so which movie did you rent?"

"its a surprise, think you'll reaaaally like it."

"i like most movies…want anything from the kitchen? water, beer…"

"m'good, i just put the tape in, cuhmon, i'll be gentle with you." he sits down on your bed and pats his lap for you to come over and sit on. you nod slowly and sit right next to him, so he grabs your waist and scooches you over onto his lap, your ass right up against his gradually hardening bulge.

"jj…what are you doin'?" you take your eyes off the tv and look down at his hand coming to flip your skirt up and feel that you're not wearing any panties, giving him full permission to rub on your pussy.

"shshsh, just focus on the TV, princess." you ignore his actions like an idiot and figure at least he's being gentle with you and focus back on the TV, the camera in a POV angle following a guy with his hands up defensively.

"what are we watching?…" you whisper, trying to push jj's hand away from your pussy, but obviously that doesn't do anything. he smacks your hand away and goes right back to touching you.

"it's a movie i made…see there that's your ex-boyfriend, talked him into the role," he whispers back, clearly very interested in what's on the screen…and playing with your pussy. the next thing you know you watch as your ex-boyfriend gets shot in the face and then shot more times in the chest, blood going everywhere.

"ohmygod jay-!" you scream, shutting your eyes and covering your mouth with one hand, while the other tries to get his hand away from you so you can get the hell off of him. he ignores your attempt and tightly wraps his other arm around you to keep you in place.

"holyfuck you're so wet." he laughs, dipping two fingers into your embarrassingly wet cunt, the intrusion making you mewl and turn your head away from the screen and the gory mess being shown.

"nah uh, keep watching." he tuts, moving his hand away from your princess parts and over to his jeans to pull his dick out to put inside you.

"i don't want to watch this anymore! i don't wanna-"

"don't care whatcha don't wanna do, worked hard to do this for you babe…so you're gonna sit here on my cock and watch the fucking movie i made for you." he grunts, lifting you onto his dick, the stretch and fullness you feel is unreal, you have no choice but to sit there and soak his fat cock.

"no!" you cry, tears starting to gather at your waterline.

"yeah…she's likes it, she's squeezing me reaaaaal good baby. jj presses a wet kiss to your cheek and wraps his arms around you again to keep you there.

"turn it off, please! please!…"

"y'gonna quit ignorin me, cupcake?"

"uh huh…i swear just please!"

"it's almost over, keep watchin." but you just can't, squeezing your eyes shut you try to block out all the noise and just focus on not cumming on him, not wanting to give into him. yet, there's no use, cause now he's got his three fingers pressing down on your little clit, rubbing it fast and hard.

"jayjay!" you squeal, digging your nails into his arm that is around your waist, as you cum hard around his dick. when you blink your eyes open the tape has finished and you notice all the liquid sprayed on your sheets.

"oh ho…there she is, squirting on my cock like a dumb slut.” he smiles and presses a little kiss to your neck.

"not on birth control are you?" you can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears as he continues to softly rub your clit.

"yo, i'm talkin to you." he spits, slapping your cheek a few times with this big warm hand to get you to respond. a few more tears spill down your face and respond with a weak whisper. "no, m'not…m'not…"

"maybe y'should be." he grunts softly before dumping his huge warm load in you just from cock warming.

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ham1lton · 2 days

Text

RACEWAY RETAIL.

— welcome to RACEWAY RETAIL. the shopping centre that has over seventy different stores and the biggest food hall in the country! come take a pit stop and explore what we have to offer! take a coffee break in JAVA JUNKIE, get a bite to eat at SPICE N’ SIZZLE, pick out a new outfit at PEACH TREE or smell some floral arrangements at MAYBLOOM’s!

⇘ WALK AROUND THE STORES! ⇙

A SUB ABOVE LOVE. - oscar piastri x reader.

— enemies 2 lovers | smut | comedy | smau + written.

╰┈➤ ❝ oscar likes his job. it might just be making sandwiches with the world's worst playlist as a backing track, but it relaxes him. that is, until his boss makes him take the newbie under his wing, and you're the worst worker he has ever seen in the history of the store. how can you fuck up a sandwich? ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

THAT'S THAT ME, ESPRESSO! - charles lecler x reader.

— slow burn | one sided pining | smut | comedy | oneshot.

╰┈➤ ❝ part time barista charles has never had a problem with the ladies, or even the guys. he's never had to try once in his entire life to get attention from the ones he wants but when the grumpy grad student doesn't even look in his direction, it sends his world into a tailspin. ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

ALL I WANT IS YOU. - lewis hamilton x reader.

— idiots in love I slow burn | pining | smut | comedy | oneshot.

╰┈➤ ❝ lewis has had his tattoo parlour for a few years now and it's been going strength to strength. the only thing missing from his life is someone to share it with, so his friends and family have been setting him up on blind dates despite his insistence that he's fine. he has his job, his dog and most importantly, you, the pretty bookworm who works in the florist across from him. what more could he need? ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

BIRDS OF A FEATHER. - george russell x reader.

╰┈➤ ❝ george and you have always done everything together, starting from when you were born in the same hospital. he's your soulmate in all ways except romantic. that's until george needs a date for his ex-best friend's wedding and you volunteer your services. should've probably mentioned you've been in love with him for a while... right? ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

SUPERNATURAL. - carlos sainz jr x reader.

— pining | angst | smut l oneshot. -> by @23victoria

╰┈➤ ❝ carlos wants to follow his father's footsteps in owning the family's gym store chain but in order to do so, he'd have to work in one for a minimum of six months. that should be okay, right? until his client is you, a gorgeous taken mother who he absolutely cannot, under any circumstance, have a crush on. ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

HONEY, HONEY. - yuki tsunoda x reader.

— pining | fluff | hea l oneshot. -> by @minkyungseokie

╰┈➤ ❝ if there is anything you hate, it’s attending your parents’ fancy dinner parties, but after meeting the new chef, you think maybe they won’t be so bad. ❞

: ̗̀➛ full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

BET ON IT. - lily muni he x alex albon x reader.

— pining | fluff | hea l oneshot. -> by @minkyungseokie

╰┈➤ ❝ the worst thing about a crush is when they’re taken. the weirdest thing about a crush is when his girlfriend starts flirting with you every morning when she gets her daily coffee. that’s … normal, right? ❞

: ̗̀➛ full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

LOVE IN 3D. - logan sargeant x reader.

— dorks in love | fluff | comedy | smau + written. -> by @lokideservesahug

╰┈➤ ❝ you were never a massive cinephile but when the cute worker asked you if you’d like to buy a membership card, you didn’t hesitate in saying yes. now, you have to return at least twice a week, just to get your money’s worth. which has totally nothing to do with the hot blond working the slushy machine and the way his arms look in the branded uniform polo. ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

PRETTY IN PINK. - zhou guanyu x reader.

— pining | slow burn | fluff | oneshot. -> by @minkyungseokie

╰┈➤ ❝ zhou likes his little life. working in the boutique, seeing his friends every weekend and secretly sketching his own designs whenever possible. enter y/n l/n, fashionista and formula one driver, who discovers his designs and insists he create her met gala look. the opportunity of a lifetime alongside the girl of his dreams, too bad he can only choose one. ❞

: ̗̀➛ full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

I SAW HER STANDING THERE. - daniel ricciardo x reader.

— romcom | slice of life | smau + written. -> by @onakomiyaki

╰┈➤ ❝ daniel never liked music that much, so when his older sister told him that he will be the next owner of the practically defunct family music store, he almost wanted to run away again. then he saw her, bright and as warm as the sun, and he thought, yeah he might give this a chance after all. ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

SUNDRESS! - lando norris x reader.

— fwb2l | comedy | smau + written | smut | opposites attract.

╰┈➤ ❝ lando norris, the other supervisor of spice n sizzle, is the bane of your existence. you’re total opposites. so you’d think as soon as you left work you’d be rid of him but the universe (aka your libido) has a twisted sense of humour. he’s your secret fuck buddy. trying to hide your relationship from everyone forces you into a realisation: not only do you not hate lando, but you might possibly even… like him? ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

SOMETHING JUST LIKE THIS - mick schumacher x reader.

— slow burn | romcom | fluff | pining. -> written by @papayadays

╰┈➤ ❝ mick has always loved books, and each day, there's nothing better than heading to the bookstore he works in and spending his days there. though no one there seems to have as much of an obsession. that is, until a university student looking for an obscure required book asks for his help, and he might have found a book buddy. ❞

: ̗̀➛ full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

— THANK YOU for coming! leave a review if you enjoyed your visit!

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kokomyass · 2 days

Text

JJK Characters ☆ That time of the month...

JJK x Fem!Reader

Genre: ☁️

Trigger warnings ⚠️: swearing, crack

featuring: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna

synopsis: in which, the jjk men are out buying you supplies for your period, some with more experience that others....

notes!: in sukuna's part, he is true form and has like a kinda palace thing going on yk....

a/n: thought of this idea, liked it and wrote it!!! I hope you enjoy 💜🍇💜🍇

~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~

Gojo

"Heyyy babe....so about those pads you wanted me to buy....you kinda failed to tell me that there are pads for every colour of the fucking rainbow!"

You had to use all your will power in you to not start laughing at Satoru through the phone, which would consequently lead him to hold a grudge.

"Satoru, I told you to get the ultra maxi pads with wings, remember? How difficult is that?" you nagged as you heard a frustrated groan through the phone.

"Well which colour is that? Cause there's no way I'm reading allat-"

"Gojo!!" you didn't usually call him by his first name it was an easy way to show your annoyance.

"Okay sorry!! Well, Y/N, there are like 5 different ultra maxi pads! How the hell am I meant to know which-"

"Satoru, with wings."

You heard the line go silent as you heard rustling assuming he had picked the pad up.

"So...um I found it....I'm gonna get myself out of this aisle because thanks to you I embarrassed myself in front of all these experienced women."

All you can do is giggle at Gojo's dramatic ass.

Nanami

You hear the door to your house open as you lay in bed curled over from the pain your cramps are giving you.

You hear your husbands soft footstep approach your bed as you open your eyes slightly to see him bent over cupping your face careful not to wake you up to violently.

"Hello sweetheart, how are you feeling?" you hear his deep, smooth voice whisper out.

"Well...I feel like shit, but now that your here I wanna cuddle with you. It'll make me feel better."

Nanami chuckles as he sat on the bed, extending his arm out to let you cuddle with him.

"Just to let you know, I went out to buy some night and day pads, tampons just in case your in the mood to use them and your favourite snacks to keep you going. They are all here if you need." Nanami said, as he gently brushed your hair as he felt you squeeze tighter.

Nanami looked down as he heard sniffling later realising you were crying after looking down at your face.

"Honey what's wrong? Did I miss something?" Nanami's heart dropped.

"No, the absolute opposite. You always get everything right. Nanami, have I ever told you how madly I am in love with you?"

"Frequently."

Geto

You had sent Geto out to do some period shopping and by that you meant shopping for pads/tampons and snacks.

When you were on your period, you were EXTREMELY snappy and emotional. This time of the month was one Geto feared all the time. One small thing could make you flip out.

"Hey babe! I'm home!"

You were sat on the couch wrapped in blankets as you watched TV.

"I got your stuff babe, snacks, pads and all..." Geto placed a kiss on your head before sitting next you. You took the bag from him searching for your favourite sweets.

"Thank yo-...Where are my skittles, Geto?"

Geto's heart dropped. He had completely forgotten to buy that and he regretted his life choices, but it was too late because you had already started crying.

"Ughh, I really wanted those skittles...why do you always forget Geto!" you sobbed angrily as Geto pulled you apologising profusely.

"I'll go out and buy more baby....I'm sorry...."

"NO. I WON'T WANT THEM ANYMORE!" you shouted at Geto as you stood up angrily walking to you bedroom as Geto sighed letting his head fall back on the couch, choosing to let you come to him in your own time.

Time Skip

You had guiltily shuffled out of the bedroom and sat next to Geto leaning into him as he let out a sigh of relief.

"So, you feeling better??"

"Yeah, sorry babe....I overreacted. My favourite sweet isn't even skittles..."

Toji

"So babe, what size is your pussy again?"

Toji was a man with no shame and clearly no brain. He went out to get pads for you forgetting to ask what type you needed.

"Wh- Toji!! How many people are in that aisle!?" You heard Toji chuckle at your very valid question, given what he had just said.

"Princess, listen, that doesn't matter right now. Just tell me your fucking pussy size."

Before you could scold Toji and maybe educate him you heard another woman's voice through the phone.

"Um sir, just to let you know you are rather loud...and pad sizes are based on the amount of flow not-"

"Did I ask?" Toji spat.

The woman's mouth shut as she spluttered trying to say something back before Toji diverted his attention back to you.

"There is like ultra large....do you want that cause I know how big-"

"Toji don't you dare finish that sentence. Just get me large ones please...and for the record it is based on your flow, so you had no right shut that poor woman down like that."

"I call it what I want to call it, and that's pussy size."

Choso

You currently had a stuttering Choso on the phone who was clearly pretending he wasn't embarrassed.

You had sent him out to get some snacks, hinting that it was your time of the month but you didn't ask him to get pads or tampons fearing it would be too much for him to handle.

"So....um...Y/N, do you....erm do you want me-"

"Choso, baby, please spit it out." you giggled at how flustered he was as it wasn't a common occurrence.

"Do you need...pads...?" he whispered the last bit so you could barely hear.

"What was that?"

"...pads...." you had made out that he said pads.

You let out a loud laughter that could be heard through the phone, shown by the fact Choso was hushing you.

"Y/N, stop laughing! Yes or no? If yes, what type?" you could tell he was trying to be vague.

"Choso you are so cute, yes I would like some please can I have some night pads? I have enough days ones."

"Okay! I got this....okay see you and love you!!" he cut the phone after chanting to himself that he had the power to pick one product off an aisle.

All you could do was chuckle and feel warm at how much he cared for you...even if it was embarrassing for him....

Sukuna

You were giving Sukuna his daily massage in his throne room despite your cramps from your period. You didn't want to tell Sukuna that you were on your period because whenever you did he became a bit too overprotective in a murderous way....

However the cramps were unbearable.

"My Lord...May I be seated?" Sukuna's head whipped around and looked up and down your body before nodding slightly, tapping his leg indicating for you to sit there.

You sat down on Sukuna's crossed legs resting your head on his broad chest as you sighed squinting your eyes at the pain.

Two of Sukuna's arms were wrapped around your waist whilst the other two were on the floor. He tighten his grip on your waist as if he knew you were experiencing pain.

Suddenly a sharp knock was heard at the door.

"You may enter." Sukuna's gruff voice sounded out.

"I have the pads and tampons and foods you requested, Lord Sukuna." Uraume entered with a box placing them at your feet. Leaving promptly.

"It is your time of the month, is it not?"

You eyes widened as you looked back at him to see him looking down at you.

"Y-Yes my lord...how did you know?"

"I keep track in my own manner." you didn't even bother to ask how that was.

You knew Sukuna wasn't exactly the loving type, but you couldn't help but wrap your arms around his neck.

"Thank you, my Lord!" he places one of his hands on your back not saying a word just letting out a huff. After a while he mumbles out.

"It's alright woman...."

~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~

a/n: I hope that was good and all those true form sukuna fans out there hmu 😜

love you!! 🍇💜🍇💜

144 notes · View notes

h2llish · 1 day

Note

i've been following your blog for a while and absolutely adore your writing!

if its okay i'd love to see something with either leona or jamil (up to you!) and a reader who falls asleep on their shoulder during some sort of nrc road trip.. i'm not sure if nrc would have buses per say considering all the magic and stuff but the concept of an nrc school trip seems super interesting to me so if you're up for the request by all means just have fun with it!! i do notice that your requests are semi open so feel free to decline ofc !

— ☁️

⁀➷ ˖ ROAD TRIP DROWSINESS

notes ─── hi anon! i’m so happy you like my writing! i don't think they'd have buses at nrc because of the mirror, but crowley would probably spring a sudden road trip on them which would just confuse the students, because why? (i also imagine their bus would probably be a bit fancier? idk how to explain it but nothing like the busses i'm used to.)

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ─── a wave of drowsiness leads you to find comfort on his shoulder ♡ fluff, gender neutral, can be read platonic or romantic, not proofread

transportation for students at nrc was not hard, all they had to do was enter the dark mirror and then they found themselves safely at their destination. so if it was that easy, why in the world was the headmage so adamant that they boarded this bus like they were kids back in middle school? ─ a road trip was his very (might many students say stupid) answer.

the only person who seemed to not have a problem with this sudden turn of events, was the magicless prefect from ramshackle. you didn't give any complaints or groan about using the easy way to get to the destination. you just nodded when the headmage announced the decision.

students were chosen at random, names drawn from a hat (a method the headmage seemed to rely on often). and as the prefect, and the designated scapegoat for everything crowley did, you were of course among that group, with your dire beast other half.

“i don't get it,” grim frowned, sitting on your shoulder as you approached the bus, where many familiar faces waited to board. “why can't we just use the mirror?”

ace was walking alongside you, being one of the people drawn to join the group. he had decided to met you at ramshackle, knowing you would inevitably have to board the bus as well. “i think the headmage called it some sort of bonding experience. don't know how a hours-long road will be a bonding experience.”

grim grumbled, turning his head to look at your face. you have yet to say anything to add to the conversation. “whaddya’ think, [name]?”

“what?” you blinked, sending a glance to the dire beast before looking ahead of you once more. “what do i think about what?”

“were you even listening to anything we just said?” ace sighed.

you hummed, “i’ve learned to tune you guys out the moment you start speaking.” ─ and then you were wincing as the two of them shouted, leaning your head away from the monster as he and ace expressed how offended they were.

you sighed, this was going to be a long ride.

and right you were.

things were okay (as okay as a group of irritable teenage boys with magic on a bus could be) during the first hour. but as the first hour turned to half, and you found yourself growing drowsy, you attempted to doze off, at least for a good twenty minutes. you were unsuccessful, as the moment you closed your eyes, you were quickly opening them to glance at a yelling grim.

epel and sebek, also being among the names drawn, were sitting next to you. epel and grim looked ready to pounce on an unnamed student who seemed to have picked a fight with them. ace didn't do much to stop the argument, in fact, he was actively encouraging it. and sebek, while he made an attempt to hold back a seething grim, was not of much help either.

you sighed, but made no move to stop it ─ you expected something to happen eventually, and you weren't all that up to being the “reasonable” one of the group. you aren't sure what the argument was about, but neither did you care. if grim got in trouble for attacking a student, it would come back to bite you, but that was something for future you to worry about.

you glanced around the bus, before your attention landed on the savanaclaw housewarden sitting alone. ─ your friends continued to argue with the random guy, and you were sure they had no intention of ending the argument anytime soon. and you would rather sleep off some time on the road rather than listen to your friends go back and forth with someone you didn't even know the name of. you stood from your seat, uncaring of whether or not it was okay to do so as you approached the empty seat.

leona had his head down, probably napping, the same thing you wanted to do. when you sat down beside him his ears twitched and he lifted his head to look at you, probably intending to scowl and scare off whoever had been stupid enough to sit beside him, until he realized it was you.

“what are you doing?” he frowned at you, but you went unfazed.

“sitting next to you, obviously.”

leona rolled his eyes, “why?”

instead of giving a verbal answer, you pointed at your friends, where sebek now had a grip on the scruff of grim’s neck, keeping him from jumping at the student. ace was laughing, offering no help to the half-fae. epel was no better than grim, with sebek’s arm held out in front of him, keeping him from doing anything.

"so you came to bother me instead?" he asked, and you looked at him straight-faced.

"yup."

leona sighed, but he didn't tell you to scram (not like you would if he did). he didn't say anything else, only close his eyes again and turning away, likely to try and nap. you weren't offended by his lack of reply, leaning your head back against the seat and trailing your eyes over the bus and your peers.

the longer you sat in somewhat silence ─ save for the incoherent yelling from your friends, you had for the most part zoned out, and the chatter of those on board ─ you found yourself falling to the drowsiness that have been interrupted before. you closed your eyes and let the movement of the bus guide you to sleep.

leona was awake, annoyed by the bus and those on the bus. his ears twitched when he heard your breathing slow beside him and he lifted his head, just as your head lolled to the side and you leaned against his shoulder.

he sighed, but made no move to push you off, glancing around you at the rest of the students of nrc, who were all either sleeping themselves, or chatting with friends. he leaned his head back, eyeing you as you shifted for a moment before relaxing again.

"where'd [name] go?" leona could hear your friends ask, no longer distracted by the argument that they were having with the random student.

he looked back at them, just in time to catch ace's eye, who was the first to see you sleeping against leona. he looked ready to say something, but leona narrowed his eyes on the first year. ace immediately shut his mouth, grinning awkwardly as he turned back to his friends.

leona huffed, looking back down at you to make sure you didn't stir. he adjusted in more comfortable position, an arm resting behind you on the seat, allowing you to lean closer, and hopefully, be more comfortable than leaning against his shoulder the way you had. and then he closed his eyes and joined you in a nap for the rest of the ride. (at least until they stopped for a break.)

this wasn't proofread so there will be probably be mistakes, i'll try to come back to edit later!

do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai

#𓂃 ࣪ ˖ ❝ requests ❞#shrimpnetwrk #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #x male reader #twst x male reader #twst x reader #twst x gender neutral reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar x male reader #leona kingscholar x gender neutral reader

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brunetttebaby · 2 days

Text

arthur morgan falling in love with you was something else entirely.

he wasn’t quite sure when he made the revelation that he was totally head of heels for you, but the feelings were only growing by the day.

maybe it was because you didn’t see him as a heartless monster, but as a man who had endured so much. or it was the sweet voice of yours, or the way your eyes twinkled when you talked about something you were passionate about.

maybe it was the handful of nights you had stayed up, simply keeping him company after a long day. regardless what the reason was, he found himself staring at you for much longer than he once did.

you crossed his mind nearly ever hour, and he was unable to escape it. everything was a reminder of you. his horse? he recalled times when you groomed her for him, taking a small responsibility for him. the sweet flowers he would pick? smelled just like you.

it was damn near impossible to be around you too. his heart would race, palms would sweat as he attempted to control him. when you would ask if he was okay, he’d fumble over his words. he was arthur morgan, for christs sake. there was no reason he should be nervous around you.

but you just drove him to the brink of insanity, all the while, absolutely oblivious. you would’ve never imagined he would have feelings for you. it was completely out of the question.

oh but he did, he truly did. he didn’t attempted to hide it, per se, but it was pretty damn obvious to just about everyone else. he’d bring you little gifts, wrap his arms around you sweetly, pick you up and spin you off your feet.

and somehow you thought it was still platonic??? it made him laugh so. alas, he didn’t have the courage to ask a sweet little thing like you to be with a man as rough as he was.

so, you did. it was out of the blue, happening quite fast

“do ya wanna go to dinner tonight?” you asked nonchalantly, not even bothering to look up from the tiny stitches you were forming on a button up you were fixing for him. “i- what?” he was dumbfounded. “like… a date??”

you looked up at him, the only confusion being that you didn’t understand why he was being weird. “uh, yeah?”

what a fool he was. “i dunno if i’d ask you for dinner if it wasn’t a date, arthur. you got all the right screws in your head??” you teased lightly, although he knew you were being serious as well.

he scolded himself that night when everyone had gone to sleep. this entire time, the pair of you could’ve been together. but he was simply to nervous, and for what?

(i absolutely hate the ending of this but it’s time i post again it’s almost been three months help)

quick little a/n — this blog will be focused on arthur morgan for the time being!<3

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan fanfic #rdr2 arthur #arthur my beloved #i love him

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jinwoosungs · 8 hours

Text

{ 180 }

autobiography.

fan!sung jinwoo x author!fem.reader

{ got stains on my t-shirt and i'm the biggest flirt | right now i'm solo, but that will be changing eventually, oh | got bruises on my heart and sometimes i get dark | if you want my auto, want my autobiography | baby, just ask me... }

anonymous said: Brainrot of my day: Imagine an author Reader and Booknerd Jinwoo, when he was still an E rank hunter he liked to read her work lot and when he became a well known hunter she was inspired by him to make a biography about him so she reaches out and imagine how flattered he was when she reached out! His favorite author wanting to make a biography. About him?? EEEEEE

you were absolutely fascinated with the seemingly sudden cinderella story that took the form of a new and upcoming hunter that went by the name sung jinwoo.

with your reading glasses settled across your eyes, you did some extensive research on jinwoo and ran across various news articles detailing all of his latest successes and raids. your hands itched with the desire to open a fresh document and draft everything that you knew about him so far-

ah, but you were getting ahead of yourself.

being a well-known author, you have written a plethora of novels since your early 20s, even managing to reach the bestseller's list quite a few times as well. your face was plastered against the back covers of each novel that you published, and the fans that you had would always recognize you immediately, taking photos with you or asking if you could sign a copy of your novels for them.

you were a mere civilian, but you were incredibly happy that your passion for writing helped give you somewhat of a celebrity status. your name wasn't as well-known as the hunters surrounding the world, but in your opinion, you were known enough by the right amount of people.

as you read through each article and watched the videos that featured south korea's latest, s-rank hunter, you had the desire to somehow reach out to jinwoo himself.

after all, biographies were written with the sole purpose of celebrating that person's life-

so long as you had that person's permission.

you lean back in your seat, grabbing the cup of coffee from your desk as you took a sip of it whilst deep in thought. with your fingertips hovered over the keys once more, you type in the website for the korean hunter's association branch, searching through the site until you reached a section that read most notable hunters.

clicking on the link, you scroll down until you see jinwoo's name. you open up jinwoo's profile and keep scrolling down until you saw his contact information, noticing his email address:

[email protected]

cracking your knuckles, you open your email account and begin typing out your message to the hunter you were desperate to write about.

{ ... }

from: [email protected]

to: [email protected]

subject: would you like a biography written about you?

hello! you may know me as the author of some books, most notably true blue and the aurora syndrome (and if you've never read any of my books, that's okay too!)

long story short, i'm an author and would like your permission to come and meet with you- maybe even interview you and write a biography about you? i am truly so awed by your story and would love to learn more about you!

reply back when you can-

(i really hope you'll agree to meet me!)

signing off~

{ ... }

"HOLY SHIT THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING TO ME!"

before sung jinwoo could further bask in this unexpected email that he had received, jinho bursts into his office, panic written all over his features as he calls out to him.

"boss, are you alright?! what happened?!"

he could feel the heat traveling up his neck and upwards towards his ears, making jinwoo force a smile when he waves off jinho's concern all while trying to maintain a neutral face. "oh, it's nothing, ah... my favorite soccer team just scored another win and i got really excited."

jinho gives jinwoo a look of suspicion, not quite believing him. however, not one to question his president, jinho shrugs before leaving the office.

"let me know if you need anything, boss, i'll be around."

giving jinho one last (albeit stiff) nod, the hunter waits with bated breath for his vice president to leave before letting out a shaky breath.

"holy shit."

to say jinwoo was freaking out would be the understatement of the century. jinwoo's favorite author of all times had reached out to him (him!) with desires to write a biography about him.

his mind was spinning, and he actually had a copy of the aurora syndrome with him right now. jinwoo adored your stories, but the aurora syndrome held a special place in his heart. in the novel, the protagonist was a young adult who suffered from narcolepsy, and it spoke about their day to day life while dealing with such a disorder.

in many ways, jinwoo could relate to that protagonist (especially during the time where he was still labeled as the weakest hunter in the world), since they were known to be self-conscious and meek, but was slowly able to come out of their shell thanks to the support of their family and friends.

and the same author of such an amazing novel (aka YOU) wished to write a book about him?!

the young hunter's head couldn't stop spinning. he kept pacing around his office, pinching himself every so often to make sure that he wasn't dreaming.

after reading (and rereading) your email at least a hundred times, jinwoo's hands begin to tremble when he goes back to his desktop pc. fingertips trained over the keyboard, he begins typing out his reply to you-

(a feat that ends up taking an hour or so due to the sheer amount of times he had to write and rewrite the same message over and over again to make sure that it was perfect for you.)

{ ... }

from: [email protected]

to: [email protected]

REPLY: would you like a biography written about you?

i am honestly so honored to have you writing a biography about me!

my story isn't much, just a series of events that just proves how lucky i am.

i've taken some time off for you and your interviews, is 2 weeks enough?

reply back when you're able to... and let me know if my arrangements work well for you.

sincerely,

sung jinwoo

{ ... }

you were pleasantly surprised when jinwoo got back to you within mere hours of receiving your email. due to his quick rise in fame, you thought that you would be left on read for at least a month or so.

"hm, perhaps sung jinwoo is more down-to-earth than i expected?"

a strange warmth fills you at the thought, and you truly were grateful to jinwoo for taking the time out of his day to get back to you so quickly.

just as you were going to send another email to talk further about the details, you receive yet another new email notification from jinwoo. curious as to what he sent, you open up his email and felt your eyes going wide in response.

xxx xxx - xxxx | sung jinwoo

call me?

now this was new. were you overthinking things, or was jinwoo actually eager to speak to you?

you shake your head at the thought, feeling a bit flabbergasted yourself. not wanting to squander this amazing opportunity, you take out your cellphone and type in the numbers seen on the screen. with your heart was racing in anticipation, you let out a deep breath before calling the hunter directly.

the other line rings a few times and you were pleasantly surprised to hear jinwoo pick up the phone on its second ring.

"h-hello?" you were dimly aware of the sounds of shuffling on the other end, clearing your throat as you began your end of the conversation.

smiling into the phone, you introduce yourself by full name, "thank you so much for allowing me the pleasure of doing this- ah, of calling you, i mean."

"oh, y-yeah, it's no problem at all!" a series of nervous, high-pitched laughter was heard coming from the other end. "s-sorry for acting w-weird but, i never expected my favorite author to contact me about their desire to write my b-biography."

the warmth seems to spread throughout your body upon hearing his admission. "what? are you kidding me? who wouldn't want to write a biography about you! your story is amazing, mr. sung!"

"jinwoo." his grave voice catches you off guard momentarily.

"ah, wait a minute... you're actually allowing me to call you by your first name?"

"i don't see why not, b-because i assure you, i've admired you for far longer than you have admired me. your novels have truly changed my life."

you felt your smile widen as you continued speaking to him, "and may i ask what books of mine that you have read?"

jinwoo's voice becomes a bit more passionate now, and you listen to him rant about every single novel you had written thus far, a fact that made your cheeks feel warm as an even wider grin spreads across your face.

sung jinwoo had to be your number one fan.

"well mr- i mean, jinwoo, you have just made my day! actually, since you've pretty much read all of my novels, you must know that your biography will be my first time writing a non-fictional story?"

"of course, that's why i can't stop my heart from pounding with excitement. i've always loved you- i mean, your work."

he seems to have realized his slip up, quickly covering it up so that you would not mention it when he asks you if you agreed to spend the next two weeks with him, making you do another yet another double take.

"whoa, seriously? you're letting me meet with you so soon?"

jinwoo's rich chuckle fills you, "of course. knock on wood, but things have been pretty safe lately, with only low level gates appearing. if anything major comes up during the two weeks you are in seoul with me, i can always ask the other s-ranked hunters to deal with it. so are you in?"

truly, who were you to reject such a generous offer?

{ ... }

perhaps jinwoo was a little too excited to see you.

despite all your protests about having him buy you the plane tickets to get to seoul, he did it anyways. he paid for you to have a first class flight while making sure he would be sent updates to where you were at all times.

but he really couldn't help how he felt.

when he was at the lowest point in his life (being labeled as the weakest in the world with his father missing and his mother in a coma, all while his sister was relying on him), jinwoo found great comfort within your novels. he could relate to each protagonist on a personal level, and he had longed wished to meet the writer behind these wonderful stories-

he had longed to meet you.

so it was no surprise that he didn't sleep much during the hours leading up to your arrival.

it was no surprise that your picture plastered in the back of each novel was an image that he burned within his mind.

and it was certainly no surprise that he would become infatuated with you after hearing your voice and catching a glimpse of your personality during your phone call.

so when your plane lands in seoul's main airport at 3am, jinwoo was the first to arrive with his trademark van, holding up a sign that had your name written on it as he waited for you within the airport lobby.

jinwoo kept pacing around the airport, waiting for you at the gate you were meant to come out of. he was close to sending the several, panicked emails to the airlines he had booked tickets for had it not been for your sudden appearance. as you step out of the gate, he recognizes your side profile, feeling his heart begin skipping beats the closer you got to him.

you had a tired and confused expression on your face, with a single luggage in hand as you searched around for him. however, thanks to his height, you saw him almost immediately. a smile paints your features as you walk up to jinwoo to meet him.

"hello jinwoo, thank you so much for picking me up, a-and for booking the ticket for me to come here."

jinwoo could feel his throat turn dry at the mere sight of you because dear god, were you so much prettier in real life than in your photos.

{ ... }

you tilt your head at jinwoo, holding your luggage in one hand as you wave your free hand across his face. for some odd reason, jinwoo appeared to be captivated, not saying a word despite how you had stood in front of him for a total of 5 minutes now.

"jinwoo?"

as if finally hearing your voice, jinwoo snaps out of it, with you watching as he runs a hand across his hair while a light pink blush was seen spreading across his cheeks. he smiles down at you before wrapping his arms around your back, bringing you closer to his chest in a warm embrace.

"hey, i'm glad you made it here safe."

you hum in response, basking in the gentle but minty sweet scent of his cologne wafting off of his suit. you awkwardly return his embrace with one hand before looking up at him. "so, where to now?"

"well, you're going back to my place, of course." jinwoo takes a hold of your luggage before walking out of the airport, giving you little choice but to follow him.

"w-wait, that won't be necessary! i had every intention of staying at a hotel for the next two weeks! i don't wish to intrude on you-"

jinwoo stops walking, facing you fully with glowing eyes. they appeared to be translucent blue in hue as he places a hand beneath your chin. "please, i insist that you stay with me. you're still my guest, and it would pain me to see you spending a single cent while you're with me."

the familiar heat was felt returning to your cheeks. it was clear that jinwoo exuded a high amount of charm, and from the way his kind gaze was practically begging you to allow him to do this for you, you found that you lost the will to protest against him.

"well, if it's alright with you, then i thank you."

when jinwoo ends up patting your head / ruffling your hair, you felt the warmth simply deepen, allowing him to gently take a hold of your hand as you both left the airport together.

{ ... }

for once in his life, jinwoo was glad that he bought a separate apartment to crash in when he had to spend late nights at his guild.

because if he had allowed you to stay within the same space as his mother and little sister, they would never keep his 'crush' on you a secret (especially jinah).

after a 30 minute ride where he exchanged small talk and usual pleasantries with you, he takes you back to his 'work' apartment and invites you inside. despite the riches he has earned during his raids, jinwoo still chose to live a relatively modest lifestyle, renting out a two bedroom apartment that wasn't too small, nor too big.

he shows you the spare bedroom and points at the bathroom settled in the hallway, reassuring you that you could make yourself at home and alert him if you needed anything. you respond with your usual kind smile, and jinwoo leaves you alone to get unpacked.

knowing that you were probably starving after such a long flight, jinwoo heads into his kitchen to cook a delicious meal consisting of hotpot and ramyun noodles. he works on cutting up all the meats, seafood, and various vegetables while heating up the broth in the middle of his dining room table.

despite knowing how he wouldn't have much of an appetite while in your presence, jinwoo still wanted to cook some hearty for you (just in case). as he was finishing up the hotpot, he sees your figure inching closer to the dining room.

"wow, it smells so good, jinwoo. you're also a good cook?"

"absolutely yes."

you giggle in response, "well, i guess i'll just have to dedicate a whole chapter of your biography to how much of an amazing cook you are!"

he gives you a grin while gesturing at you to have a seat. with all the bowls and utensils surrounding the table, he beckons at you to dig in first. "i'm gonna grab us some sodas to enjoy, so you go ahead and start first."

"ah, are you sure?"

"absolutely! go on and don't be shy." he feels the butterflies taking over his abdomen, getting out some cans of soda before sitting across from you. as you begin eating, jinwoo felt a surge of pride swelling inside of him when you tell him how wonderful everything tasted.

he replies to your genuine compliments with a tiny 'thank you,' starting to eat as well, all while sneaking glances at you.

{ ... }

the following days spent with jinwoo kind of felt like a dream, if you were to be honest with yourself.

and it made you wonder, did all celebrities act like this toward the authors who wished to write their biographies?

deep down, you knew the answer to that question as being no-

that this was a special case between you and jinwoo.

as you interviewed him and asked about his life, he would take some time out of his day to treat you to various things. from eating out at expensive restaurants, to playing around and having fun at the local amusement park-

this felt more like going on dates than just work on your end.

and admittedly, you were having a lot of fun with him. not a single day went by where you didn't feel the excitement coursing through your veins. you ended up enjoying jinwoo's company so much that you felt almost a sense of sadness coursing through you at the thought of going back home and leaving him.

however, during your last night here in seoul, you pushed aside such pesky emotions and began writing out a draft of his biography. you knew that once you started your writing process, then you would not stop-

which is perfect for when you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep.

the door to the spare bedroom was closed as you hoped that it would muffle the incessant sounds of you typing away on your laptop. the last thing you wanted was to disturb jinwoo's sleep when you had every intention to pull an all-nighter writing the beginning chapters of jinwoo's biography.

after writing a few paragraphs, you stop typing to admire your work so far:

sung jinwoo is a 24 year old young man born on march 8, xxxx to his mother, park kyung-hye, and father, sung il-hwan. he spent most of his childhood living a relatively normal life with his parents and little sister, jinah. despite his seemingly normal upbringing, sung has faced many tragedies that left a permanent mark on his life. from the sudden disappearance of his father, to his mother falling into a deep coma due to the eternal slumber disease, he was left with the heavy responsibilities of caring for his seemingly broken family. but this biography is not a tragedy; in fact, the words written within the pages of this novel will be a testament to sung jinwoo's strength as he changes from the world's weakest hunter to the world's strongest hunter through a series of fated events...

a sudden knock heard at your door breaks you out of your read-through of the first few paragraphs that you have written.

"come in."

upon receiving your permission, jinwoo steps into the room with an unreadable expression on his face. there was a deep emotion settled within his eyes, and you wondered if something was bothering him.

"hey, you're still awake? are you okay?"

jinwoo's head was bowed to you, and you hear him murmur something.

"i'm sorry, jinwoo, but i didn't quite catch what you just said. can you repeat yourself?"

the young man begins to tremble when he speaks once more, this time clearer than before. "please stay with me."

your eyes go wide when jinwoo swiftly joins you on your bed, taking you in his arms when he suddenly presses his lips against yours in a kiss filled with desperation. you let out a surprised gasp, allowing jinwoo to take advantage of your parted lips as he dips his tongue within the confines of your mouth.

jinwoo greedily explores your taste, falling into bed with you as your back lands against the mattress. your heart was set aflame thanks to his kiss, and you could no longer deny the way it sang for him each time he was near. with your eyes clenched shut, you shyly return his kiss, allowing him to deepen it as he kept your head still with his large hands.

when the need for air proved to be too much, you and jinwoo both reluctantly pull away from each other, your eyes both hazy with the adoration you felt for one another. as you met with jinwoo's passionate, grey eyes, you watch as he leans down to press a chaste kiss against your lips.

"i'm sorry, but you need to know that... i've been half in love with you for a long time now. ever since i read your debut novel, i was hooked on you."

while he confesses to you, jinwoo brings you into his embrace, allowing you to settle yourself on his lap as he brushes his lips against your forehead. "i understood and found bits and pieces of myself in each and every protagonist you wrote about, and with each new novel that i read by you, the more i felt my admiration and crush for you morph into something else entirely- something much deeper and more meaningful."

you remain silent throughout it all, feeling overwhelmed as you listened to each and every one of jinwoo's words. he frames at your face, eyes now filled with unbidden love for you, "to make a long story a lot shorter, when i got stronger and managed to become an s-rank, all i could think about was how this made it easier for me to potentially meet you someday."

"so when you reached out to me first, eager to know about my life because of how i became stronger... i knew i couldn't let this chance go."

he smiles at you, taking in your wide eyes and the way you parted your lips in such a cute manner. with a sigh of your name, jinwoo kisses you once more. "i thought i'd be happy, simply spending two weeks alone with you, but i've quickly come to realize that two weeks just isn't enough."

despite how fast your heart was racing, you could feel the grin gracing your features as you nuzzled the tip of your nose against jinwoo's. "oh? and if two weeks isn't enough, how many days would i need to spend with you for it to be enough for you?"

a smirk was settled on jinwoo's handsome face, "honestly, i could have you for a lifetime and it still wouldn't be enough for me."

feeling your fondness for jinwoo also morph into something more powerful, you found that you were unable to say no to his gentle demands, becoming oh so captivated by his eyes as you land against his chest with a smile.

"i guess i may need to apply for some type of visa in order to stay here with you in a more permanent sense."

jinwoo chuckles while tightening his arms around your frame, filled with joy at what was to come-

but little did you know, so long as you agreed to marry him by the end of this year, then you would have no problems remaining forever by his side; he'd make sure of it ♡

a.n. - and with this story, it will be my last one before i start my rotations tomorrow for school! my updates will be semi-active, but i will be kept busy with various assignments 🥹 i just hope that you readers remain patient with me if it does take me a minute to update with new jinwoo stories!

this is currently unedited, but i'll make any changes once this is posted! until then, i hope you readers enjoy reading this!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader

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hoshifighting · 6 hours

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Oi lindeza, como você está? Espero que esteja bem :)

I'm gonna ask this in English because it just make ms sense to me, but could you write about seventeen being in love with a woman who has kinda a masculine energy ? I know, it's weird, but I keep thinking about how they would react if in a certain situations the girl takes the lead like they're supposed to do. Like arguing with a inconvenient waiter or while someone is trying to cross the line with them.

Obrigada ❤️

Seventeen in love with a woman who leads and takes charge

a/n: oii meu amor! estou bem e você? adorei o request, mto criativo!! um monte de beijooos, espero que goste!! ❤️❤️

Seungcheol:

seungcheol is used to taking care of others, having done so from a young age. when you first stepped in and took control of an unexpected situation, it completely blew his mind. he found it both surprising and incredibly attractive. despite his natural instinct to care for you as his woman, he found himself captivated when you defended him. for once, he could relax and be taken care of.

Jeonghan:

jeonghan absolutely loves when you take charge. the first time you did, he had stars in his eyes. he adores the dynamic and often sulks playfully, asking you to handle things for him, "Y/N-nie, can you please talk to them? they messed up my order again." "Y/N-nie, the guys are making fun of meee!"

Joshua:

joshua, the quintessential gentleman – okay, everyone knows it!! –, always aims to take care of you. however, his kindness sometimes leads to others taking advantage of him. you stepping in to assertively balance the energy, "no, Joshua. they need to respect you baby!" especially when he's too kind, makes him appreciate you even more.

Jun:

junhui feels shy when you take charge, but he also admires you immensely. when you argued with a rude waiter on his behalf, he was awestruck, feeling like he was watching a lioness protect her ground, feeling incredibly lucky to have you by his side.

Hoshi:

another one that loves when you take charge. he enjoys watching you handle situations, often making playful 'I told you so' faces to the person causing the problem. "oh really? I can't do that? let me call my Y/N-nie then."

Wonwoo:

he is gentle and often too shy to defend himself. he appreciates your protective nature, even if he doesn't always show it. you scolding him for not standing up for himself makes him realize how much you care. "I know I should have said something, but seeing you stand up for me..." he doesn't finish his sentence, but the blush on his cheeks says everything.

Woozi:

prefers to ignore problems, but when you defend him ferociously, he's caught off guard. he might initially tell you there's no need, but inside, he finds it incredibly hot and smirks afterwards. "come on, there's no need to get into it... but thank you."

Minghao:

despite being capable of standing up for himself, loves your protectiveness. your diplomatic skills and ability to resolve the situation calmly leave him in awe. he appreciates the way you ensure his safety, even if he tells you to let things go sometimes. "It's fine, really. but I love how you always look out for me."

Mingyu:

the big boy, feels like he's watching his superhero when you take charge. whether it's handling his documents at a clinic or standing up for him when he's uncomfortable, he loves it. he might not let you pay for dinner, but seeing you ready to do so with your card between your fingers, makes his heart swell.

Seokmin:

he sees you as his princess and doesn’t want you to lift a finger. however, he appreciates when you take charge in certain situations. he loves balancing your capable nature with his desire to take care of you. "I know you handle everything so well, but let me do this for you, okay?"

Seungkwan:

loves when you protect him, whether it’s putting your arm around him when someone gets too close or asking someone to lower their voice for him. he finds your assertiveness incredibly charming. "the way you handle things, it's so hot. I feel so lucky."

Vernon:

he doesn't mind if you lead or not, but he enjoys telling others about your assertiveness. he loves making comments about how you handle situations, showing his admiration. "my girlfriend’s giving me a ride." or "let me think what Y/N would do in this situation."

Chan:

chan learns a lot from you about positioning himself. he finds it incredibly hot when you lead and put people in their place. he admires you silently and strives to be like you. "you’re amazing. I hope I can be as strong as you are someday." you're his model, muse, love, inspiration... oh, this boy just loves you soo much! "I always admire you in silence."

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newobsessionweekly · 2 days

Text

Fire and fight

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Crossover 911 x The Rookie

Tim Bradford x Buckley!firefighter!reader

Evan "Buck" Buckley x sister!reader

Summary: Tim finds out about the illegal fights and the complicity of your brother and Eddie.

Angst to fluff

Warnings: violence, injuries, illegal activities, not proofread yet

A/N: A little crossover, but it's absolutely safe to read it if you didn't watch 911. Had a little time to spear due to my excruciating back pain that forced me to stay in bed for 2 days (I didn't stay in bed, was just an excuse to not study, yesterday I deep cleaned my whole house + cooked)

Requested: no

Words: 3.5k

You sit at the worn wooden table in the firehouse, the sounds of laughter and friendly banter filling the air around you. Tim's presence beside you is both comforting and electrifying, his rugged charm and unwavering support a constant in your chaotic world.

You steal a glance at him, admiring the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs, the way his hand brushes against yours in a subtle yet intimate gesture. You can't help but feel a surge of affection for the man who's become such an integral part of your life.

Despite the lively atmosphere, your mind drifts to the weight of the recent calls you've faced, the images of destruction and loss still fresh in your memory.

You've been together for months now, and though he knows you well, there are parts of yourself you've kept hidden, afraid to expose the darkness that sometimes consumes you.

As the team shares stories and jokes over lunch, Tim's eyes linger on you, his gaze filled with a mixture of adoration and concern.

"You seem distant today," he remarks softly, his hand finding yours under the table. "Everything okay?"

You force a smile, not wanting to burden him with the weight of your troubles.

"Just tired," you reply, squeezing his hand in reassurance. "It's been a rough week."

Tim nods understandingly, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

"Well, if you need anything, you know I'm here for you, right?"

You nod gratefully, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. Despite your best efforts to keep him at arm's length, Tim has a way of breaking down your defenses and seeing straight through to the heart of you. It both terrifies and exhilarates you, this vulnerability you share with him.

Tim leans in closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Hey, I was thinking," he murmurs, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "Why don't you sleep over tonight? Just the two of us."

Panic grips you, and you cast a desperate glance at Eddie, your close friend and confidant, silently pleading for help. Eddie meets your gaze with a knowing look, nodding subtly as if to say, 'Go ahead, I've got your back.'

Summoning a smile, you turn back to Tim. "I'd love to, but I promised Eddie I'd help him with Christopher tonight," you lie, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

Eddie, who was sitting across from you, shook his head subtly before joining your lie.

"And I really appreciate it, Y/N. Thank you."

Tim's disappointment is palpable, and you feel a pang of guilt knowing you're the cause. Lately, it feels like you haven't had much time for each other, your duties pulling you in different directions. But you can't bring yourself to tell him the truth, to let him see the vulnerability lurking beneath your facade.

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze under the table, his eyes filled with understanding.

"It's okay," he says softly, "We'll figure this out."

As the lunch break nears its end, Tim's gaze meets yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His hand finds its way to your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm, anchoring you in the present moment. There's a raw vulnerability in his eyes, a silent plea for understanding and acceptance.

"Be safe, okay?" he whispers, his voice a soft caress against your skin.

And then, in a moment of unspoken longing, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that steals your breath away. Time seems to stand still as the world falls away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a bubble of warmth and intimacy.

The kiss is sweet and gentle, yet filled with a depth of emotion that words could never convey. It's a silent exchange of love and reassurance, a promise to weather whatever storms may come your way. In that fleeting moment, you feel a sense of belonging wash over you, as if all the pieces of your fractured soul have finally found their home.

As Tim pulls away, his eyes meet yours with a mixture of tenderness and longing. It's a bittersweet moment, filled with the promise of what could be and the uncertainty of what lies ahead. But in that moment, all that matters is the warmth of his touch and the softness of his lips.

His forehead rests against yours, and you can see the love and concern in his eyes.

"You be safe too," you whisper.

As Tim leaves for patrol again, you watch him go with a heavy heart. The minute he’s out of sight, Eddie and Buck approach you with serious expressions. Eddie's arm is a solid, reassuring presence at your back as they guide you to the lockers, closing the glass door behind them. Their grave looks make your stomach churn.

Eddie is the first to speak, his voice tinged with frustration.

"I don't like this, Y/N. Lying for you, especially to Tim. He deserves to know what's going on."

Buck crosses his arms, his brows furrowed with concern.

"Seriously, you need to stop this. All of it. Think about what will happen when he finds out. I'm not sure which one he'll kill first."

You shake your head, trying to brush off their worries.

"If he finds out. And he will not, trust me."

Eddie steps closer, his eyes searching yours with a mix of anger and concern.

"How long do you think it'll take before he sees the bruises, huh? Dammit, Y/N, I see them."

You swallow hard, feeling a lump form in your throat.

"You see them because you know where to look."

Buck's voice softens, though his frustration is still evident.

"Tim's a cop, sis. A very good one if you didn't notice. He will find out and when he does—"

Before he can finish, the fire alarm blares through the station, cutting off the conversation. The familiar rush of adrenaline surges through you as the call to action drowns out everything else. You all move quickly, your argument momentarily forgotten as you slip into firefighter mode.

Eddie gives you a lingering look, his eyes filled with unspoken words, before he turns to head to the engine. Buck places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"We'll talk about this later," he says, his tone softer but still firm.

The end of the shift arrives like a welcome reprieve, but for you, it's just the beginning of another battle. Driving to the location of the illegal fights, your mind races with a mixture of determination and apprehension. The sight of Eddie's and Buck's cars parked nearby only fuels the fire burning within you as you approach them, your steps heavy with pent-up frustration.

"What are you doing here?" you demand, your voice tight with simmering anger as you confront them.

"Making sure you're okay," Eddie meets your gaze and furrows his brows as he speaks. "I don't want to see Bradford angry. He scares the shit out of me when he's happy..."

Your jaw clenches at the mention of Tim, your thoughts momentarily drifting to the repercussions of him discovering your secret. Pushing those thoughts aside, you shake your head stubbornly.

"I'll be fine, don't worry."

Grabbing a beer from a nearby cooler, you plop down on the trunk of a car, Eddie and Buck flanking you on either side. You crack open the beer and take a long sip, the cool liquid doing little to quell the fire burning inside you.

Buck leans in close, his voice a hushed whisper. "You need to quit these fights, Y/N. It's not worth it."

Eddie nods in agreement, "We're worried about you."

You take a long swig of your beer, the liquid burning a path down your throat.

"I can take care of myself," you mutter.

But Buck's frustration is palpable as he reaches out to grasp your hand.

"We know you can, but this isn't the way to prove it. You're risking your life for what?"

You pull away from his touch, your gaze hardening.

"It's none of your business," you retort, your tone sharp with irritation. "I don't need you to babysit me."

As your name echoes on their lips, the crowd erupts into cheers, their voices blending into a deafening roar as you step into the center of the makeshift ring. Surrounded by eager spectators, you feel the weight of their expectations bearing down on you, fueling the fire that burns within.

Your brother and Eddie watch you from the sidelines, their expressions etched with concern as you face off against your opponent, a behemoth of a man twice your size and weight.

Within the perimeter, surrounded by the thunderous cheers of the crowd, you allow your thoughts to drift away, consumed by the adrenaline coursing through your veins. With each stretch of your limbs, the tension in your muscles tightens, fueling your determination to win.

The fight begins, and you move with a fluidity and grace that belies your size. You dodge and weave, your movements swift and precise as you deliver blows with calculated precision. But the man before you is relentless, his attacks coming fast and furious, each strike leaving a mark.

Blood trickles down your face, the metallic taste lingering on your tongue as you fight back with renewed strength. Your fists fly, each punch landing with a satisfying thud as you refuse to back down. The intensity of the battle is palpable, the air crackling with electricity as you and your opponent trade blows.

In the midst of the chaos, a sense of euphoria washes over you, a rush of exhilaration that eclipses the pain. For a fleeting moment, you feel alive, untethered from the burdens that weigh you down. In that moment, there is only the fight, and the sheer joy of testing your limits.

Your brother's concern etches lines of worry across his forehead as he watches the fight unfold, his eyes darting between you and the towering opponent.

"We should stop her," he insists.

But Eddie shakes his head "It's too late now," he replies, "They have to finish the fight."

Buck hesitates, his hand hovering over his phone as he weighs the consequences of calling your boyfriend. "I'll call Tim," he decides finally.

"Wait, Buck. Think about this." Eddie reaches out, his hand closing around Buck's wrist. "She'll hate us."

Buck hesitates for a moment, weighing his options, before relenting. "Tim's the only one who can talk her out of this," he says, determination in his voice as he dials the number. "She'll thank me later."

Tim arrives shortly after Buck's call, his expression a mask of concern and frustration as he rushes to your side. He had been about to clock out and change when Buck's urgent call came through, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios as he drove the streets to reach the location.

When he sees you, battered and bruised, a pang of heartache grips him. He's torn between wanting to hold you close and shake some sense into you. The sight of your pain is unbearable, and he struggles to contain his emotions as he approaches.

You're taking a break, sipping from a beer while Eddie inspects your wounds, his brow furrowed in concern. Though nothing serious, the bruises will leave their marks.

Despite the pain, you're all smiles and pride, reveling in the thrill of the fight. But when you catch sight of Tim, the smile fades from your face, replaced by a look of guilt.

"Tim?" you say, your voice barely above a whisper as you search his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Tim's heart clenches at the sight of you, the blood and bruises marring your once flawless skin a stark reminder of the danger you willingly put yourself in.

"No, what are you doing here, Y/N?" he retorts,"What are you thinking? How can you be so reckless?"

"I'm not reckless," you protest, "I like it."

"Look at yourself, Y/N," he implores, his gaze softening. "Do you like what you see? Is this really what you want?"

Before you can respond, the break is over, and the announcer calls your names, signaling the start of the fight once more.

"Gotta go."

Tim watches helplessly as you disappear into the crowd, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. Despite his love for you, he knows he can't force you to change, can't protect you from the dangers you willingly face. And as he watches you disappear from view, his heart breaks a little more with each step you take away from him.

As you return to the center of the 'ring', determination burns bright in your eyes, fueled by a desperate need to prove to Tim that you're not in over your head. You know what you're doing, and you're determined to show him that you can handle yourself.

The crowd roars with anticipation as the fight resumes, but this time, you're ready. Every movement is calculated, every strike precise as you weave and dodge with a grace that belies your size. You're quicker, sharper, and more focused than ever before, fueled by a burning desire to prove your worth.

Buck's voice breaks through the chaos, his concern evident as he turns to Tim. "Why don't you stop her, man?" he asks, his eyes pleading for action.

But Tim shakes his head, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of pride and worry. "She hates you for calling me," he replies, his voice tinged with resignation. "No need to have her hate me too."

Eddie chuckles at their exchange, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Told you," he remarks, watching Buck with amusement.

As the fight reaches its climax, you find yourself on top, your opponent unable to keep up with your skill and determination. With one final, decisive blow, you send him sprawling to the ground, the crowd erupting into cheers as you emerge victorious.

As you collect your winnings from the bet, you make your way back to the three men, their concern palpable as they guide you to their cars.

Eddie pulls out the first aid kit, his hands gentle as he cleans up your wounds, his gaze soft with sympathy.

But it's Tim who captures your attention, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. You meet his gaze, searching for some sign of understanding, of acceptance, but all you find is disappointment.

In that moment, as you stand before him battered and bruised yet still standing tall, Tim's heart aches with a fierce love for you. He knows he can't protect you from every danger, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try. And as he watches you, his resolve only strengthens, determined to be there for you no matter what.

As Tim pulls out his phone and dials Lucy's number, you can't help but feel a sense of dread creeping over you.

"What are you doing?"

Tim ignores you, his focus on the phone call as he speaks in hushed tones. When he finally hangs up, his expression is grave as he turns to Buck and Eddie, who have finished cleaning up your face.

"Chen's taking a night shift. Can you stay here and make sure no one leaves before the cops arrive?" he asks.

Buck nods solemnly. "Yeah, man. Sure."

You feel defeated as you watch the exchange, knowing that Tim's disappointment is palpable. "Tim..." you start, your voice trailing off as you search for some way to reach him.

But Tim turns away from you, his heart breaking at the sight of your face. "I'm not talking to you now," he says quietly.

Turning back to Buck and Eddie, he issues his final instructions. "Chen will call you when they're close. You leave this place immediately. Understood?"

Buck and Eddie nod in agreement, their expressions somber as they prepare to carry out Tim's orders. As they make their way back, you remain seated on the trunk, swinging your feet like a child who knows they're in trouble.

Tim closes the distance between you, kneeling before you with a tenderness that breaks your heart all over again. Cupping your cheek with one hand, he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Come on, baby," he murmurs, his voice soft with tenderness. "You're coming home with me."

You nod silently, too defeated to argue. Climbing into your car, you follow Tim back to his place.

Tim closes the door behind you, his expression unreadable as he watches you from across the room. Sitting in the middle of the room, you feel like a child who knows she's in trouble, awaiting her punishment with bated breath.

Tim's hand rests gently at your lower back as he guides you to the couch, his touch both comforting and protective. As you settle onto the cushions, a sense of unease settles over you, your heart heavy with guilt and apprehension.

"Are you mad at me?" you finally muster the courage to ask.

Tim's expression softens as he looks into your eyes, his love for you shining through the worry and frustration.

"No, baby," he replies, his voice gentle. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just worried about you. I don't want to lose you."

He takes a deep breath, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he struggles to put his feelings into words.

"I don't want to lose you," he admits, "I fear enough when you're out on calls, taking unnecessary risks with Buck to save lives. I don't need to worry about your safety off-duty, too, especially when you're doing something as dangerous as that."

You listen quietly, absorbing his words as he speaks.

"But why?" he asks, his voice pleading. "Why do you do this?"

You hesitate for a moment, grappling with the weight of his question before finally finding the words to respond.

"It's extra money," you admit, your voice tinged with resignation. "And it helps me. When I'm out there, I don't have to think about anything. No more problems, no more pain. And when I win, it's the best feeling in the world."

Tim's heart aches at your words, the pain of knowing that you're seeking solace in something so dangerous. He reaches out, taking your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring.

"But, baby," he murmurs, his voice filled with love and concern. "Those fights are not good or fun. And you shouldn't have to risk your life to find peace. I'm here for you. Always."

His words wash over you like a wave of warmth, enveloping you in a cocoon of love and protection. In that moment, you realize just how lucky you are to have him by your side, a constant source of strength and support in a world filled with uncertainty.

Tim's expression softens as he looks at you, his eyes filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

"If you really want to fight, you can do it with me," he offers, his voice laced with a mixture of playfulness and determination. "I know a thing or two about that. I might even let you win, but only if it means keeping you safe."

His words, though tinged with playful jest, carry a weight of sincerity that fills your heart with warmth. You feel the depth of his love for you in every word, in every touch, and you're overwhelmed by a rush of emotion.

"But seriously, Y/N," he continues, his voice soft but resolute. "You need to stop doing this. I love you, and I can't bear to see you getting hurt again. It kills me to see you like this."

"Wait," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. "You love me?"

Tim's smile widens as he reaches out to cup your cheeks, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Of course I do, baby," he murmurs, "I love you. Even though you drive me insane and make me worry about you every second."

A smile tugs at your lips as you meet his gaze, a warmth spreading through you at the realization of his feelings. "I love you, Tim," you confess.

"But was it really necessary to call Lucy?"

Tim chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I am a cop, after all," he replies, his tone playful. "I couldn't just walk away from that. And besides," he adds with a teasing smile, "I didn't have enough cuffs for everyone. Just for you."

You play along, a playful twinkle in your eye. "Oh, you gonna arrest me, Officer Bradford?" you tease, a smirk playing on your lips.

Tim leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "I have something else in mind," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "And cuffs might just help."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and as you lean in to kiss him, you're filled with a sense of warmth and belonging that only he can provide.

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offside-the-lines · 2 days

Text

Give my all to you | Nico Hischier

Summary: It's been two years since Aurora was set up on an unwanted surprise date with Nico. He's become her best friend and her son's favorite person. Aurora finds herself wondering if this truly is all she wants from him. Title inspo: Best Part by HER & Daniel Caeser

This fic is dedicated to @wyattjohnston for her birthday bingo. Happy birthday, Demi! You are an absolute gift to this community and to my life. I hope you have the best day. Here's to 30!!! 💖 Pairing: Nico Hischier x F!OC Word count: 5.8k Bingo card tropes: match-making, single parent, FREE (friends to lovers), sworn-off love, coworkers (barely mentioned tho lol oops). Warnings: Kid fic! The kid does get injured, but he is okay! (Please let me know if I missed something) Some Swiss German words used: Schätzli (little treasure), Bärli (little bear). This fic is un-beta-ed coz I wasn't about to make you edit your own b'day fic. LOL Masterlist

I. THE PAST

Aurora has always hated being late, even when it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fault the production meeting ran late. It wasn’t her fault that there was something wrong with the subway line she needed to take. It wasn’t her fault that her bag strap decided to snap, spilling its contents onto the busy 8th Avenue sidewalk halfway through her approximately twenty-block walk. She had texted Nicole to let her know she was running late; she didn’t have the wherewithal to consider how strange it was that she never got a response.

By the time she had gotten to the restaurant, she was sweating and looking forward to a cold drink. Which is why she was even more annoyed when she couldn’t find Nicole in the restaurant. It was garnering her strange looks from the maitre d’ who had told her there was no reservation under either of their names.

Aurora checked the location twice before stepping back onto the street and pressing ‘call’ on her phone. It was a precarious balancing act, with her bag grasped to her chest.

There was no response.

As she pressed ‘call’ again, her eyes caught sight of Nico Hischier. A pit was beginning to form in her stomach as she began to realize what was happening.

No response.

At that moment, Nico looked up and caught her eye. His smile and wave all but confirmed her suspicions.

She quickly typed out a message as she ventured back inside.

To Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: nicole laud, what the fuck have you done. if this is what i think it is, im going to fucking kill you.

“Hi, Aurora!” Nico smiled; it was endearing, the way it dimpled his cheeks and crinkled his eyes. He stood up to give her a hug and pulled the chair out for her.

“Nico,” she said, “It’s nice to see you! Although I’m a little caught off-guard, I’m not gonna lie.”

He scrunched his brows. “Oh? What do you mean?”

“Nicole didn’t tell you?” She paused, examining his confused expression, and sighed. “She didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“Look, Nico, I don’t know what Nicole told you to get you to come here, but this is not that. I thought I was meeting her for dinner, but it seems this has been some sort of setup. I’m really sorry if that’s not what you were expecting. Especially after waiting for me, which, I hope she at least did you the courtesy of passing along the message that I was running late?”

“She did,” Nico said.

“Well, at least there’s that,” she sighed, “I know you’re a great guy and everything, but I’m really not looking to date. At all. I mean, even if I was, I don’t date coworkers. I’m really sorry. She shouldn’t’ve done this. We can just call this a night if you want.”

Nico let a brief flicker of disappointment cross his face before schooling his expression into a soft smile. “Well, I mean, we’re already here, and you look like you might need a drink and some food. We can just have dinner as friends. Or colleagues if that’s what you prefer. I don’t mind either way. It’s up to you.”

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of just how long it had been since she’d last eaten.

“Yeah, okay,” she said, “I’m pretty hungry, and I was really looking forward to the gnocchi.”

Despite the way the evening started, Aurora admits she had a good time. Nico was easy to talk to: open, attentive, and responsive. Maybe it was just the bottle of wine they shared, but it was rare for her to get as comfortable with someone so quickly as she did with Nico. How quickly they were both willing to share the deeply personal stories they usually kept to themselves.

Nico talked about what it was like to leave his family and move to a new country as a teenager. He shared stories of his siblings and his childhood in Switzerland. He confided in Aurora about the pressures and joys of being named an NHL captain so young.

Something about Nico made her feel safe enough to share her life story. It was rare for her to talk about her son with someone who was practically a stranger. But she found herself telling Nico about the ex-boyfriend who broke her heart at the age of 20, disappearing when she was in the third trimester of her pregnancy.

Nico indulged her by asking her question after question about Theo; admittedly, it’s always her favorite topic of conversation. Nico seemed genuine when he mentioned that he looked forward to meeting him, even going as far as offering to take her son skating for the first time. It was a nice thought, but she didn’t think he would follow through on it.

The time passed quickly, and soon, her phone alarm was alerting her that it was time to relieve the babysitter.

“Ah, shit,” Aurora said, “I need to get going.”

“No problem. Do you need a ride?” Nico asked, smiling warmly.

“No, it’s okay. Should we get the check?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nico said, shaking his head, “I got this.”

“Come on,” she prodded.

“No, no. I feel bad; you were absolutely ambushed today. It’s the least I could do.”

The earnestness on his face made her pause, eventually relenting. “Okay, fine. Thank you.”

“No problem! I’m serious, though. I would really like to be friends. And I would love to take Theo skating.” He took out his phone and handed it over. “Here, type in your number, and we’ll figure out a time to make it happen.”

“Okay,” she said. She felt warm and bubbly; his smile settled her for some reason.

Later that night, after she had gotten home and checked in on her son, she responded to the two unread messages on her phone.

From [Unknown number]: It’s Nico! Lemme know if you got home okay! When do you wanna do skating? To Nico 😈: home! weekends are usually a good bet for us. especially before the reg season starts. From Nico 😈: How’s next Sunday? Maybe after practice. I can reserve some ice time at the rink.

From Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: he thinks you’re cute! you should give it a shot. he’s a really good guy. To Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: i know you were trying to help, but that was kinda fucked. he IS a great guy, and i think we WILL be good friends. but i’m still really pissed that you ambushed me like that. From Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: i’m sorry. i didn’t think it through. To Nicole 💁🏼‍♀️: it’s okay. just don’t do it again.

II. THE PRESENT

[two years later]

Aurora watches as Nico chases Theo around the rink; with all the time he spends on the ice with Nico, he’s getting so good. As they skate past, Nico slows to send her a smile. She waves back.

She hears someone sit down in the seat next to her, and she doesn’t need to even turn to check who.

“Teddy’s getting good,” Nicole says.

“Yeah, he is.” Her gaze never leaves the boys going round and round the ice.

“Must be all the help he’s getting from our dearest Captain,” she laughs.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know.” She knocks her shoulder into Aurora’s. “First overall. Captain of the NHL team. Not everyone gets dedicated skating lessons from someone like that.”

Aurora doesn’t respond to that, but she does let her eyes drift over the other players on the ice: Curtis with his kids, Erik with his kids, Brendan with his kids… She swallows the lump in her throat.

“When are you and Jesp gonna have kids?” she asks.

“Shut up,” Nicole laughs, “You’re deflecting.”

“Deflecting from what?”

“Fine, we can talk about something else,” Nicole sighs. “When are you going to start dating again?”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe we have to go over this again. I don’t want to date. At all.”

“Oh, come on,” she whines, “Teddy’s seven already. It’s time. When was the last time you even got laid?”

Aurora doesn’t respond, focusing on the squeals of laughter and the scraping of blades on ice.

“Rory, I just want you to be happy,” Nicole continues gently.

“I am happy. I’ve got a great kid who I love,” she grinds out, “I just want to focus on him. He’s enough.”

“I know, Rory. Of course, he is, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t want more.”

“Well, I don’t,” she pouts. She knows it doesn’t come off nearly as resolute as she intends it to.

“I don’t believe you,” Nicole says; she sounds so sure. “You’re a romantic, Rory. You’re always reading those books and watching the shows and movies.”

When Aurora doesn’t respond, she sighs, adding, “When are you going to stop punishing yourself? And don’t say that you’re not. I know you still beat yourself up about it. You’re a great mom, Aurora. You can still be a great mom while dating.”

They let the silence linger.

“I don’t want to introduce new people into Theo’s life. I don’t want to have to explain to him why these men come and go from our lives,” she responds finally.

“Things don’t have to happen like that, you know?”

“Like what?”

“New guys coming and going.”

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t have to be someone new at all,” Nicole says carefully.

Aurora finally tears her eyes away from the rink and finds Nicole’s eyes boring into her own. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Oh, come on, Aurora,” she says, rolling her eyes, “Be so fucking for real right now.”

Aurora just keeps glaring at her.

“Okay, fine, be like that,” Nicole huffs. “Be honest, how much time do you two spend with Nico? Like, every day when he’s not on a road trip, right? Nico’s down as his second emergency contact at school. He was a new guy at one point, but he sure isn’t going anywhere.”

“Nico’s different,” Aurora says, grinding her teeth together as she turns back towards the ice.

Her eyes immediately find Nico; he’s leaning over the bench so casually, so easily, as he helps Theo with his water bottle. When he looks up, his gaze locks with hers as if he knows exactly where to look. He smiles, and she can see his dimples even from here. She feels herself smiling back. A laugh bubbles in the column of her throat when he turns back to stick his tongue out at her son.

Nicole snorts. “Yeah, he’s different, alright.”

“Yeah,” Aurora sighs, not at all picking up on the subtext. “He is. Not every guy is like him. God, I don’t even know if there are any guys like him.”

Nicole hums, “Uh-huh. So, why won’t you date Nico?”

Aurora’s head whips around so fast she has to blink at her friend for a second.

“Nico’s a really good friend. That’s it. And that’s all it will ever be,” she bites out.

“You know, he agreed to go on that date with—” She cuts herself off when she sees Aurora’s glare. “Okay, I know we don’t talk about it, but just hear me out. He wanted to go on that date with you. He’s into you.”

“Yeah, he was,” Aurora says, shaking her head. “That’s before he knew I had a full kid who I am responsible for 24 hrs a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. No one wants to walk into that situation. Someone like Nico definitely doesn’t want—”

“I’m gonna cut you off right there,” Nicole says. “Nico literally has lunch with you at work most days he’s here. He takes Teddy skating as much as he can. He goes with you two to museums, or zoo, or whatever, almost every week. He helps you make dinner and watches kid shows like Paw Patrol. Like, I just don’t understand why you refuse to see this, but he’s all in, Rory.”

Aurora feels her throat tighten and tries to cool the heat in her cheeks.

“Yeah, as I said. Nico’s a great person. He’s probably the best person I know. But he’s a 25-year-old NHL player. He doesn’t even date ‘cause he wants to focus on his career. He certainly doesn’t want to be tied down to a family already.”

“Oh my god,” Nicole laughs humorlessly, “Like, serious! Do you hear yourself?”

Aurora just keeps glaring back at her.

Nicole shakes her head. “You know, he used to date, right? Or, at least, hook up. Jesper says he hasn’t seen Nico pick up in well over a year. What do you think that’s about? You got an excuse for that, too?”

And for once, she doesn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know that. She has always assumed that he didn’t pick up when she was around, so she can let loose a little without having to worry about Theo too much, knowing that Nico has her back. She has always assumed that he hooked up on the road. And she doesn’t know what to do with this information.

Luckily, she doesn’t need to, as a loud thump makes her jump.

Theo’s banging on the glass in front of her with the biggest grin on his face. Nico leans against the glass a few feet over, beaming at him.

“Hi, mama!” he yells, “Nicki’s teaching me how to use my edges better when I skate backward. See?”

He grins so wide before he puts his hands in front of him, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, as he begins to wiggle. Aurora admits she has no idea what she’s looking for, but she smiles and cheers all the same. Her eyes flit over to Nico, and he’s tapping his stick; she recognizes the proud look on his face.

She looks away quickly, only to catch Theo losing an edge and falling to the ice. It makes her breath catch every time. Nico raps his knuckles on the glass twice before skating over to check on him. By the time he gets there, Theo’s already back on his feet, doing little hops.

She watches as Nico bends down to talk with him. They skate another lap before heading towards the exit together. She watches as Theo hops up onto the bench, and Nico kneels down to unlace his skates for him. She doesn’t know what they are chatting about, but Theo’s being especially animated.

Aurora is startled when she hears Jesper behind her; she has forgotten Nicole’s there.

“You ready to go, älskling?” he says, bending down to give her a kiss before sending Aurora a smile. “Hi, Rory.”

“Yep!” Nicole stands up, her hands sliding easily into his. She smiles at Aurora. “See ya later, yeah? Think about what I said?”

“No,” she laughs, sticking her tongue out like her son does, “Bye, you blond assholes.”

She watches Nico and Theo go down the tunnel together. Theo’s holding Nico’s hand despite telling her that holding hers was embarrassing; she tries not to be a little hurt by that. She sighs and makes her way over to the locker room.

It doesn’t take long for them to emerge, still sweaty. Theo can’t shower at the rink, so Nico usually also skips the shower so she doesn’t have to wait. Theo chats excitedly on the way to the car. Aurora and Theo had moved into Nico’s apartment building, a few floors down, not long after they had met, so they will carpool occasionally. Those days are always Theo’s favorite.

They hit traffic on the way back, and Theo’s questions and musings gradually fade out until he passes out in the back seat. Nico and Aurora sit in companionable silence for the rest of the drive, both happy to let the kid sleep.

It does mean that Theo is cranky when he is awakened from his nap, refusing to walk and then refusing to let go of Nico to let him shower in his own apartment. She sends him an apologetic look, but he just smiles and shrugs as he carries her son back to their apartment, Theo’s cheek resting on Nico’s shoulder as he blinks at his mom lazily.

She makes dinner as the boys shower, singing and dancing along to a playlist they have been adding to for two years. She feels, more than hears, Nico returning to the kitchen, his hand on her hip, a warm presence at her back, as he watches her stir the creamy chicken pasta. He steals bites off the spatula every now and then, laughing at her mock horror.

Theo has lost all the energy he was filled with only a few hours prior, and it makes dinner a battle. She feels guilty about the way Nico bargains with him to eat the vegetable. She should be able to get Theo to eat his dinner without help, and she knows she absolutely could do it, but it’s nice to have the help.

Besides, Theo wasn’t in the mood to listen to anything she had to say, always looking to Nico for guidance instead. Asking Nico for his bedtime story when the time came for it.

She’s not jealous, anything but. It fills her heart with warmth to see her son so smitten with her best friend. But that doesn’t stop the ache that fills her chest: this could’ve been Theo with his father. He should be getting this with his father. And it’s her fault he isn’t. Every day, Theo grows a little bit more as a person, and while it’s bittersweet, she always wonders if he would be different if he had a dad. If her mistakes are holding him back.

Aurora is startled out of her thoughts when she hears her son’s voice get progressively louder and more upset. She rushed into his room.

“Why not?” Theo whines, his voice wet with tears and his bottom lip trembling.

“Bärli, I—” Nico says, voice wavering and raw. When he turns towards her, he looks white as a sheet, his eyes darting back and forth between Aurora and her son.

“What happened?” she hisses at him as he stands up to give her space on the bed.

“I—I really don’t know. He asked—Never mind, not important right now,” he whispers, nodding at Theo, who is now bawling.

She rushes to her son’s side and pulls him into her arms, shushing him. She presses soft kisses to his forehead and just holds him until his sobbing subsides. Eventually, he tires himself out enough, hiccuping occasionally as his eyes drift close and his body grows heavy. Once she’s sure he’s asleep, she slips out of the room.

Nico is leaning against the wall in the hallway, worrying at his lip. His head snaps up as soon as he hears her exit the room. She pulls him out of the hallway and into the kitchen, the furthest place from her son’s bedroom.

“What the fuck happened in there?” she whispers.

Nico presses the palms of his hands to his eyes. “He asked me—Fuck—He asked me if I was his dad. Obviously, I said no. And then he got really upset, and I don’t know why. I have no idea what happened.”

“What do you mean he asked—How did that even come up?”

“I don’t know,” Nico sighs, finally looking at her. His brows are pinched tight, dark strands of hair falling like a curtain around wet eyes. “He was saying something about the kids at school all having dads. And then he asked me if I had a dad. And then he just asked me, ‘Are you my dad?’ And then he kept asking me why not. Like, ‘Why don’t you wanna be my dad?’ What the fuck am I supposed to say to that, Aurora?” His voice breaking at the end.

She feels the claws of panic dig into her chest, sharp pain in her sternum as her head spins. Technically, it’s not the first time he’s asked that. He used to ask about ‘dads’ a lot when he was a toddler; before he really understood what the word ‘dad’ meant. He hadn’t brought it up in years so she had assumed he was over it.

“Fuck,” she breathes.

“Rory, stop. Don’t apologize.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. He runs his fingers through his beard, a nervous tick she has seen enough times to set her on edge. “When are you going to tell him, Aurora? He deserves to know.”

She clenches her jaw. This is not the first time they’ve talked about this.

“We’ve talked about this, Nico,” she says.

“I know we have, but you’re being selfish, Rory. You should’ve seen his face. He thinks no one wants him.”

Aurora’s heart clenches, the panic spreading through her whole body. She feels the sweat prickling at her back, her neck, her forehead; it makes her itchy all over.

Nico is still talking. “He doesn’t understand why everyone else he knows has two parents, and he doesn’t. He thinks I don’t want him. And I can’t—”

“You can’t what, Nico? Because you don’t have to do anything. You’re right. He’s not your son. What I do or do not tell him is none of your business. You can think I’m selfish, you can think I’m a bad mother, you can think whatever you like. It was none of your business then. It’s none of your business now. It won’t be your business ever,” Aurora hisses, her chest heaving as she rants.

The silence hangs between them, thick and stifling.

“I don’t think I can keep doing this,” Nico says, voice so small and so raw.

And if she felt hot before, she doesn’t anymore; the words feel ice cold in her ears. She’s plunged into freezing water, falling through pristine ice into a frozen lake. Her fingers feel numb where the nails dig into her palms.

“Can’t keep doing what, Nico?” her voice sounds foreign even to her own ears.

He doesn’t answer.

“Can’t keep doing what?” she says, louder, “because I didn’t ask you to do anything, be anything. Don’t worry; you’re under no obligation to be anything to him. So, if you can’t put up with this anymore, then just leave. I won’t be upset. I won’t be anything at all. Because you’re right, you—”

“Schätzli, stop,” he interrupts firmly, “that’s not what I said.” He reaches for her, but she shrugs him off.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I heard what you meant. I’m fucking up his life, right? Fucked up my own, practically was a teen mom. But that’s not enough. I’m not enough for him.” She doesn’t even register the tears streaming down her face.

“Schätzli—Aurora, please. You know that’s not what I meant,” Nico says, and he might be crying too. His hand keeps coming up, reaching for her, before going back to hanging limply by his side.

“You don’t get to tell me how to parent my son, Nico. You don’t get to tell me that I’m fucking it up.” The words spill out of her mouth, and she has no control over it anymore. Through the tears, she can’t even see his face anymore, can’t see the heartbreak in those brown eyes she loves so much. “You don’t get to say this shit, Nico. Because you’re not his dad. You’re not his anything.”

She hears what may be a sob, but she can’t tell if it’s coming from her own mouth.

“Schätzli,” he whispers, “You don’t mean that.”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” she says, wiping her eyes.

“Aurora, please, come on. You know that’s not true. You can’t say that after the past—” He takes a breath. “I know this is hard for you. But I’m trying to be here for you. To be what you need.”

“What are you trying to say,” she whispers.

“You have to know I would be anything you asked me to be. You can’t possibly not know that by now.”

“I’ve never asked you to be anything. To me. Or to him. And if you can’t understand that we don’t need anything from you, then you should just leave,” she says through clenched teeth.

“Schätzli,” he pleads.

“Please just—just go.”

“Aurora, I want to be there for you. Both of you. I love Theo. I love—”

“Don’t,” she warns.

Nico sighs. “It’s always been fine that you don’t want me like that. I don’t care about that. It’s fine. But this… This makes me feel kinda fucking used, Aurora. This makes me feel like you think I’m nothing to you. No one. And that’s—Fuck—You need to decide what you want.”

“I’m asking you to leave,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Okay. Fine, I hear you. God, I’m so—” He stops himself, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment before continuing, “Fuck. Yeah. Okay. I’ll go. I’m leaving.”

Aurora doesn’t respond; she just keeps looking at the floor until he finally sighs and walks out of her apartment. When the door clicks shut, she slides down the wall and sobs into her hands.

III. THE FUTURE

The next few days pass excruciatingly slowly. It’s the longest Nico and Aurora have gone without talking in the two years they’ve known each other. He opens the text thread with Aurora countless times: typing and deleting, typing and deleting, before giving up. Every time he steps into the apartment building’s elevator, he stares at the button for her floor, but he never presses it.

Nico finds himself checking his phone so often that the boys have begun to notice and chirp him for it. He has never had a problem with focus before, always pouring himself into hockey when things go awry. It’s usually the one thing that keeps him centered, but for the past few days, it always feels as if his skates are too tight, the edges too dull, or his stick too short.

It all grinds to a halt when he sees the missed calls, voicemails, and texts from Aurora after an unsuccessful pre-game nap.

It’s Saturday, and Aurora’s exhausted. She can’t remember the last time a week has gone so poorly. For the past few days, it’s felt like everything in her life has been moved one foot to the left: out of place and disorienting. She has been lying awake at night thinking about Nico, playing their conversation over and over again in her head, pouring over the past two years. Every morning, she wakes up feeling more tired than the day before.

Theo’s not been much better. He has been grumpy and whiny. It seems like nothing she does can cheer him up. He asks her at least ten times a day about Nico: where he has been, what he is up to, if we can call him, and when we will see him next. It has been tearing her up inside that she doesn’t have an answer for Theo.

She has only known Nico for two years, and, between away games and the summers, it’s not like they are together every day. She shouldn’t feel his absence so acutely, but she does. She finds herself looking at the empty chair at her dining table and his empty spot on the couch; she feels the ghost of Nico so acutely. It hurts like a phantom limb, a gaping hole in her life, and she doesn’t know what to do about it.

Aurora thinks she’s holding it together until she isn’t.

When it happens, she doesn’t think anything of it. It’s hockey. She’s seen Theo fall during hockey countless times. It looks like any other fall until Theo starts crying, still lying on the ice, clutching his hand. And it’s as if the entire universe focuses in on that one point.

She doesn’t remember getting up from her seat and running down to the bench. She doesn’t remember the conversation with the U8 coach. She doesn’t remember the walk to the car, clutching him so tightly to her chest, despite the fact that he is far too heavy for her to carry now.

She’s trying to calm herself down enough to drive to the hospital, head on the steering wheel, gasping for air, when she hears her son speak up.

“Mama,” Theo says, voice wet and wavering.

“Yes, baby?” she manages to respond.

“Mama, it’s okay. I’m going to be okay. Nico always tells me, when I’m sad or hurt, to take deep breaths. I think you might need to take some deep breaths, Mama,” he says between quiet sobs.

It makes her chest feel cracked open and raw; it takes everything in her body to tamp down the sob that threatens to spill out.

“When did you get so grown up?” she says, her voice sounding thin and reedy.

“Mama, I’m 7. Nico says I’m a big boy now.”

Aurora swallows around the tightness in her throat and tries to take three deep breaths before starting the drive to the hospital.

The panic only subsides long enough to get them to the hospital. By the time they receive the X-ray results, she can hardly process what they are saying. The words “broken arm” and “no surgery” ring loudly in her ears.

Somewhere in her consciousness, she knows she calls Nico. She knows it’s a game day, knows his routine. But some part of her hoped hearing his voice would make things alright, even just a little bit. She calls a few times, pushing down the disappointment when he doesn't answer. It’s a game day. She knows the routine.

She is sitting in the waiting room, staring at her hands clutched tightly in her lap, when she hears Nico’s voice call her name.

She blinks and feels a pair of warm hands envelop hers.

“Hey,” Nico says, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, Schätzli, it’s okay. You’re okay. I got you.”

She deflates like a balloon, tilting forward to tuck her face in his neck as sobs wrack her body. His solid arms envelop her, hands rubbing her back. He keeps murmuring in her ear, a combination of English and Swiss German. She has no idea how long they stay like that, but eventually, she feels the terror and panic begin to subside.

“Nico,” she says softly, “what are you doing here?”

“You called,” he says as if it was the simplest thing in the world. He squeezes her hands.

“Oh god, Nico. Don’t you have a game? What are you doing here? You shouldn’t—”

“Rory, it’s okay. I called out. I told Coach that an emergency came up. I wanted to make sure I was here for you if you needed it.”

“You’re skipping the game? For us?” She swallows down a sob. "For me?”

“Yes, Schätzli. Of course, I did.” He reaches a hand up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Is Theo okay?”

“Yeah,” she hiccups, “he’ll be okay. He broke his arm. And they’re just setting it and putting in a cast to make sure it heals right.”

“I’m so sorry, Schätzli.”

His hand cradles her face gently, wiping at the tears as they fall. There is a long stretch of silence as she leans into his hand.

“How did you get in here? This is the family waiting room,” she asks.

Nico blushes and turns away, mumbling something.

“Sorry, what?”

“I told them I was his dad,” Nico mumbles, rambling, “I didn’t mean to—It’s just, they weren’t letting me in. They said it was family only. So I had to tell them that. I’m sorry; I totally overstepped. I didn’t mean to. I get it if you’re mad—”

Aurora reaches out a finger and presses it to his lips. He stops abruptly, eyes wide.

“It’s okay, Nico. I’m not upset,” she says. She takes a deep breath, and with sudden clarity, she asks, “Is that something you might want to be one day?”

“What?” he squeaks.

“Theo’s dad.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, God, I hope I’m not reading this wrong. But—Well, earlier this week, you said I needed to decide what I wanted. And I just kept thinking about that conversation and how unfair I was to you—to us—by totally underplaying the past two years. ‘Cause they’ve been two of the best years.

“Theo loves you. I love you. You are the second most important person in my life, and I’m sorry it took this mess of a week to realize that,” she sighs. “I don’t know what I’ve been so afraid of. Or what I was waiting for. But it’s so clear to me now that you have been there the whole time. You never asked or expected anything of me. And maybe I was taking advantage of that while hiding behind my past.

“I know I can raise Theo alone; I know I can do it. But I don’t want to do it alone anymore. I don’t want to do it alone if I could have you by my side instead. And, oh God,” she says, her eyes darting frantically across his face, “I really hope I’m not misreading things. Nicole keeps saying that you—I feel like I’m being—”

In an instant, his lips are on hers, warm and soft and insistent. She closes her eyes and lets herself melt into his embrace. The kiss is chaste, but it feels like everything finally snaps back into place.

“God, Aurora. Schätzli. I would be whoever you want me to be. Whatever you’re ready for. I’ll be here. I’ve known that since the first time we met, Liebling.”

“God, Nico,” she says breathily, “I want everything.”

“Okay,” he smiles, “Everything it is. We can take it as slow as you’d like.”

“Haven’t we wasted enough time?”

He laughs, dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Fuck, I love you, Aurora.”

“I love you too, Nico,” she smiles.

They share a few chaste kisses. And they wait, Aurora wrapped in his steadying embrace, until the doctor finally comes to tell them that Theo is in a recovery room and is doing great.

When they walk into the room together, Theo immediately spots Nico and his eyes light up.

“Nico! You’re here!” he yells.

“Yeah, of course I am,” Nico says warmly, walking across the room to pull Theo into a tight hug.

“Where have you been? I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah, Bärli. I’m sorry.” He runs his fingers through Theo’s messy hair and smiles. “I’m here now. And I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

He looks up, eyes meeting Aurora’s, and he smiles. And she never doubts for a second that he means it.

#look i know that third pic in the banner is jack okay don't at me LOL #demi's birthday bingo #birthday bingo #rox writes #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #new jersey devils imagine #devils imagine #njd #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x oc #nico hischier fic

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jjkwritingsandrambling · 2 days

Text

Hopelessly Devoted {Satoru Gojo x Reader}

It was no secret that Satoru was an attractive man, but while his ego appreciated the attention, it felt hollow to his heart. There was one exception, you. You couldn’t see it behind the blindfold he always wore, but his gaze softened at the sight of you. As much as he’d love to watch you sitting at the table of the cafe you two were set to meet at for a little longer, he didn’t want to keep you waiting.

“How is my darling angel doing today?” Satoru purred from behind you, not able to resist spooking you. You jumped at his sudden appearance. You turned and smiled at him. He opened his arms and you were more than happy to take the opportunity to jump into his arms. Satoru dramatically spun you around, careful not to let you hit anything.

“Hey, baby.” You greeted, giggling as he put you back on your feet. Satoru gave you a quick kiss. He licked his lips at the remnants of sugar on your lips.

“I see you started without me.” He teased you. You smiled guiltily.

“I was making sure they were actually good.” You joked. “I wouldn’t want to subject you to bad pastries.”

“How thoughtful.” Satoru chuckled. He wrapped his arm around your waist and led you inside the cafe. Satoru rambled about his latest mission that he’d just gotten back from after he’d ordered what he wanted. You patiently listened to him as he went on. Satoru stopped suddenly.

“You okay, babe?” You asked. “‘Toru?”

“You know I love you, right?” He asked. You nodded.

“I love you too.” You said. You furrowed your brow in concern. It wasn’t unusual for him to randomly declare his love for you, but not in such a serious tone.

“‘Toru, is everything-?” He cut you off.

“You see me as a person. Not the strongest. Not the Gojo family prodigy. Just me.”

“Of course I do.” I said. “Baby, what brought this on?”

Satoru sighed.

“I had a shitty meeting with some higher ups. They were pressuring me to get married and have an heir.” He groaned then sighed again. “And I realized that I didn’t hate the idea if it was with you.”

Your face went red.

“Are you asking me to marry you?” You asked jokingly. You were stunned when Satoru got out of his chair and down on his knees. He pulled a small box out of his pocket.

“Yes.” Satoru said seriously. “That conversation made me realize that there is no one else I’m ever going to love as much as you and if I can’t have you, then I don’t want anyone. I’m yours, heart and soul. I immediately ran off to a ring shop after my meeting.”

“Are you telling me you impulse bought an engagement ring?” You teased him. Satoru chuckled nervously.

“I didn’t think about it like that…” He said. You laughed.

“That is so on brand for you.” You said, smiling. You reached down and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him up to kiss him. Satoru eagerly kissed you back.

“Is that a yes?” He asked breathlessly after you finally released him. You grinned.

“Absolutely, it’s a yes.” You confirmed. Satoru slipped the ring on your finger. You raised an eyebrow.

“I never told you my ring size.” You commented. He blushed lightly.

“Not as impulsive as I made it sound. I took a guess. I’ve held your hand enough to get a good idea.” Satoru admitted. You giggled.

“We should get some extra pastries to celebrate our engagement.” He suggested. You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Of course, honey.” You giggled.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #satoru gojo x reader

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enhaheeseung · 2 days

Text

At your service l. Heeseung

Pairing: live in maid heeseung x rich fem reader

Warnings: age gap, crying, angst, heartbreak, I think I’ll post like three more chaps before the end I hope you all enjoy

• Masterlist

• WC: 2,127k

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Finally, it was your birthday today, and heeseung had almost everything prepared.

The gifts he had gotten you still needed to be wrapped. He bought a book with writing prompts in it since you were still struggling with the continuation of your book.

He also got you something really really special and really really expensive so expensive that he’d be even more late paying off his student loans but for you it was worth it without a doubt.

He made a strawberry cake from scratch, remembering that you loved anything that included strawberries.

He smiled to himself while he worked on the final touches of your surprise in the kitchen.

It’s crazy cause just a couple months ago he didn’t know how to cook and he barely had a penny to his name and now he’s baking you cakes from start to finish and buying you luxurious jewelry.

He decided to forego the candles on the cake since you were always so conscious about your age for reasons he did not understand.

He didn’t mind the age gap, truthfully; he kind of actually liked it at first. Yeah, he was just interested in having sex with an older woman, and that’s very douchey, he’ll admit that, but now there's so much more to you than sex.

Don’t get him wrong, sex with you is amazing, perfect, absolutely marvelous, but now that he’s grown to learn more about you, everything with you is amazing, perfect, and marvelous, even the little things.

Chatting with you is fun, cuddling with you is fun, going out with you is fun, and watching you concentrate and write your book is fun. Things he never even liked doing before are now some of his favorite things to do. He loves reading books to you, and he used to hate reading. He’s usually an outdoor person, but he loves staying indoors with you. Cooking was the last thing on his list of things to do, and now he wakes up early in the morning to happily prepare breakfast for you just so he can see your eyes light up with joy.

He’s so in love that he’s doing things he would have never even dreamed of just to make you happy and give you what you deserve.

He put his whole heart into decorating the cake and the kitchen where he’d be throwing your little party later on. “You think mommy’s gonna love the surprise?” He bent down, patting Bruno on his little head.

Heeseung had dressed him up for the occasion, a blue bow tie around his neck identical to the one he was wearing.

Meanwhile, Bruno was busy trying to lick the frosting off the tip of the frosting bag. “Bad puppy,” Heeseung sighed and stood up so he could put the finishing touches on everything and make it perfect for you.

About 30 minutes later he was done everything was set up nicely and he snapped a few pictures before he gave you your gifts.

“Hee can I come down now?” You asked anxiously half nervous half excited you’d be stuck in your bed all day since morning.

Your mind drifts back to earlier when you both woke up in the morning and the soft loving touches he left on your body.

You cupped your flushed cheeks you could still feel his hands on your skin you could still remember the way felt inside you and you could still hear the sweet nothings he whispered in your ear.

That was the perfect way to start your birthday morning, and it was even more perfect when he brought you breakfast in bed.

Hints why you’ve been in bed all day he treated you like a princess and wouldn’t let you lift a single finger today.

He smiles looking in the direction of your voice. “Wait one more minute darling!” he picked up Bruno and set him on the kitchen counter making sure their bow ties were neat. “Okay you can come down!” He called to you his phone in hand so he could record your reaction and it didn’t disappoint.

You took one last step down the stairs and walked to the kitchen, turning the corner to see your whole entire dining space completely decorated with all your favorite colors there were balloons a banner that said happy birthday and then there were your two boys looking at you. “Surprise!” Heeseung said with a bright smile on his face.

“Oh my gosh,” you cupped your hands over your mouth in awe of what he had prepared just for you.

“Happy birthday, baby. I hope you love it,” he said shyly, and you ran over to him with your arms spread.

“Thank you I do love it hee so much” you kissed his cheek and looked at Bruno. “My boys are so handsome” you patted his head. “But I love you more” you said wrapping your hands around his neck kissing him properly this time.

“Hmm” he grins gripping your waist. “I’m glad baby now are you ready for the presents?” He asked rubbing your lower back softly as he ended the recording and set his phone on the counter top.

You nodded, smiling excitedly with anticipation.

“Wait here love I’m gonna go grab them from upstairs” he jogged upstairs he was so excited for you to see what he got you.

“Daddy the best, isn’t h-?” Your words were cut through when a ding on heeseung’s phone went off.

The phone lit up for a few seconds with a message and dimmed a few moments later.

Heeseung was rummaging through his drawer in search of your presents he opened the box with the piece of jewelry and when the light hit it just right it was mesmerizing.

He wanted to buy a promise ring for you, but he also didn’t want to rush into things so quickly and risk making you uncomfortable or feel pressured into anything, so he opted for something that you could still wear every day, just without the heavy commitment.

It was a custom piece a half heart made out of white gold and tiny little diamond’s with his initial on it the other half identical except it was made out of onyx and it completed the heart when put together.

He though it was a perfect idea cause now that way you both could always have a piece of each other close to your hearts.

The notifications on heeseung’s phone were nonstop, so you decided to look at them. He kept his phone unlocked, so you doubted he’d care. Plus, with as many texts coming in, it sounded urgent. You called for him upstairs, but he just responded with. “I’ll be down soon, baby,” as he was wrapping the last of your presents.

You shrugged and took a peak just to make sure everything was fine, and you wished you hadn’t.

“Bro, you’re never going to believe this.”

“Hello?”

“Answer me!”

“Or can you not because you’re fucking your boss again?”

“When are you going to stop stringing that poor girl along just make the money and leave like you said she probably thinks you love her.”

Your hand instantly cupped your mouth and your heart was racing as you read the texts over and over again.

Your body moved in its own and you charged upstairs to confront him. “Y/n? What are you doing up here you’re gonna ruin the surprise” he chuckles turning his back so you can’t see anything just yet.

“You mean this surprise?” You hold up his phone, walking over to him, and shoving it in his face so he can read the messages and his face drops. “What the fuck is this heeseung?!” You shout on the verge of tears.

“Baby…” he looked over at you, his eyes filled with fear.

“Don’t fucking baby me. Just what is this heeseung?” He flinched from your yelling, his expression softening as he tried to think of what he should say.

“T-that’s not true, y/n. I do love you; I jus-”

“Then why is your friend talking to you about this?” Your voice gave out while you searched his eyes, hoping to find some type of answers.

“I-I,” he sighs, stumbling over his words before he decides to just tell you the truth. “In the beginning, it was true, and I know I’m wrong for that baby. I’m so-“

“Don’t” you stopped him right there that’s all you needed to hear. “And don’t call me that anymore.”

“Y/n, please just let me expl-“

“There’s no explanation, heeseung, just go,” you told him weekly and tossed the phone on his bed in disappointment. You really thought he was different turns out he’s just like the rest, but with him, it hurt just a little more than all the others.

“Y/n…” he tried to reach for you before you left.

“I said go!” His mouth was parted open for a moment and it closed as you were walking away he reached for you again but you shook his hand off and this time you turned around smacking him right across his face the loud slap echoing in the silent room.

He gasped at the sting of the slap, his eyes getting teary.

Bruno was upstairs now, barking loudly at heeseung as you both stared at each other with hurt in both of your teary eyes.

He cupped his cheek, his heart breaking in his chest as he tried to register what was even happening. This couldn’t be true. This all had to be some type of cruel, sick joke.

In the morning, you both made love and now you’re fighting.

For the first time in a long time, he was finally happy, and now this happens.

“Just get your shit and go” You left the room, Bruno walking on your trail as you went into your bedroom to try and make sense of what just happened.

Heeseung stood there speechless, swallowing the lump in his throat as hot tears trickled down his cheek.

He sat on the bed holding your necklace in his hand, clutching it tightly.

“They’re all the same, aren’t they, buddy? But you would never do that to me, huh?” You grabbed his small body, sitting him on your chest, and you didn’t even cry. You’ve been hurt too many times for that. You just stared lifelessly at the ceiling, and you knew only time would make this pain and disappointment go away.

Heeseung had slowly packed all of his things his limbs feeling heavy with every move and within an hour the room looked like how it did when he first got there.

He couldn’t believe he was actually leaving. It just didn’t feel real.

But the heavy suitcase in his left hand was enough of a sign that this was indeed real.

He knew you probably didn’t want to talk or even see his face right now, but he can’t give up on you like this.

He had to at least try.

“Y/n?” He knocks on your door softly, and you don’t respond. Resting his forehead against the wooden door, he tries to twist the knob, and he’s not surprised that it’s locked. “Please, baby, open up. I love you I love you so much. Everything you saw is true, but then I got to know you, and I just couldn’t help but fall for you. In the beginning, I was just young and dumb. I wasn’t taking life seriously, but when I met you, you were just so open and mature. You told me about your past, and I felt for you. I could see how hurt you were, and I knew you couldn’t trust people, so I wanted to take that all away. I wanted to show you what trust and love could really be like. I grew into a man you could love and be loved by, and you’re just so perfect I can’t lose you now, darling.” he waits a solid five minutes, and it’s nothing but silence other than his cries by the tenth minute with no answer he gets up off the floor grabbing his luggage and wiping his tears. “I love you, y/n,” he says one last time before walking down the staircase.

He looks back at your mansion a sad smile on his face when he saw your birthday decorations still up how could such a special day end up like this.

He leaves his spare key on the lampstand and walks out, locking the door behind him.

He walked the path downstairs a frown on his face when he saw the sunflowers that you both planted together starting to bud.

He wouldn’t be around to see them bloom or your guy's relationship.

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Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

#enhypen #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung #enha heeseung #engene #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung angst #heeseung x reader #enhypen fanfic #heeseung fic #heeseung fluff #enhypen lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung angst

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jakeyt · 7 hours

Text

Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 2 of 3)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great.

Was.

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

-🌼🌼🌼-

Monday

December 12, 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somewhere bad? Good? In-between?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you replied, completely sure of your decision. “No. I want to do this. I promise I haven’t changed my mind. I don’t want to change my mind,” you rushed out, desperate for her to understand you. “I’m just–just scared. Is that not okay?”

You didn’t mean to sound defensive, but your biting tone contradicted that. The nerves were wracking you, from the inside out.

Luckily, Gia seemed unphased, keeping with her featherlight touch to the backs of your hands. “It absolutely is okay to be scared,” she confirmed, tone firm and soft all at once. “But, I need you to keep in mind: you are in charge this time. You have the power. We will approach these places in the now – you are in the driver’s seat of conquering these past battles. We’re in this together, love – and we will make it out stronger and better than before we started.”

Her voice assured you, of course. But the fear was still ever-present.

Sure, you did have control. But what if you couldn’t control where you went?

Where would you go? That was what scared you most. Your mind was bound to let loose. It was one telling part of this sort of therapy. You didn’t really know what had been hiding deep in the drawers of the credenza in your mind. . .

Hence you being here.

You just knew, whatever it was lying beneath the surface — you knew it was. . . a lot.

Then, as if she could hear the additional fearful thoughts swimming in your brain, she grasped your hands tighter in hers, moving to rub her thumbs over the tops of your knuckles. “You’ll be just fine. We’ve got a solid plan, babe. I just need you to trust me, and I need you to trust yourself. If you need to walk away, tell me and we’ll do it. That is in our power – your power.” Her pristinely white, pearly teeth were on display as she looked deep into your worried eyes. “We can do this, okay?”

We. I’m not alone.

You’d never had a single doubt about Gia. Of course you trusted her. But. . .maybe the true problem was trusting yourself. . . Over the past several months, you were finding that to be a bit more difficult.

But, Gia was right. You had to put some trust in yourself to know when you needed to step away. You could do it. You had to.

And knowing that she had a plan and had done it so many times before. . . Those were relieving thoughts, to say the very least. She knew what she was doing, and she knew what was best for you.

I can do this, you recited to yourself. I can. . .

You sighed, out of both relief and persistent worry. “I trust you,” you told her, another somewhat forced smile following your words. “And I’ll learn to trust myself. . . I’ll try my best,” you grinned sheepishly. “We’ve got this.”

“Good deal,” she responded with a far more sincere smile than you could offer. “There’s just one more thing we need to do before we get started.”

She clicked her iPad closed, wheeling back toward her desk, reaching down in the same drawer she pulled the device from. Only this time, she pulled out a large legal style, white notepad, and a large box of Crayola markers. Lastly, she grabbed a flawlessly sharpened pencil from the ceramic baby blue jar, covered in white roses, next to her keyboard.

What could she be up to? You wondered, eyebrows drawn together.

“I need you to describe something for me, something visual to lock any horrible memory away in.” She took a sip of her tea, which sat atop her desk, before she stood up from her chair. She came to sit directly next to you on her couch. The smell of eucalyptus that swirled off of her, from her perfume, was soothing. “You need to give it lots of detail, make it unique. I’ll even draw it for you,” she held up the notepad, pointing to it with a gentle smile. “Seeing it visually will help you when it’s time to lock the memories away mentally. Some people want a box, a filing cabinet, a treasure chest,” she laughed, and you giggled at that one, too. Jake would love that one. Buried treasure, like his pirate documentaries. . . “Whatever you want. You just tell me exactly what you want it to look like.”

Something about this felt a little silly, but you understood the purpose for it. Just having a place to put the memories after you visited them, it felt like closure. A special sort of closure at the end of every session, just like your safe place felt like closure. . .

And then, you knew what you wanted it to look like. Saw the image, clear as day, in your mind. It felt significant to you, it felt right. There was no question.

But, you had a thought.

“Would–would it be okay if I drew it?” You questioned carefully.

She eagerly handed you the notepad, markers and pen with a huge smile. “Absolutely. That’s called trusting yourself big time, girly. This box is a special one!” Her voice was wet as she sniffled. “I’m not supposed to get so emotional with my clients, but I’m proud of you. You’re making great strides and we’ve barely started.”

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a bit encouraged, your own throat tight as you reviewed her once more with a glance.

Then, sticking the tip of your tongue out from the corner of your mouth, you looked down at the paper, and began.

A small, wooden box was all you could see in your mind. So, you drew it out, as best you could, given your lack of artistic abilities.

One side, then the other, the bottom, the top. . .

Before you knew it, you had a perfect, rectangular box on the stripped notebook paper. Then, it was time for the important part: the details.

There was only one element that felt right — felt safe — to decorate the box with.

Scouring through the markers, you found two perfect shades of purple at the bottom — two very different shades, to add depth. You weren’t an artist, really, but you could pretend for the box’s sake.

Then, you searched for the greenest green you could find. One more marker in a shade of dark brown, and you were ready to draw the box exactly as you saw it in your mind.

You began drawing tiny individual stalks of lavender on top of the box. You filled in their blooms with the purples, drawing their stems underneath with the green. Their placement may have seemed scattered across the top, but you kept going. To you, it made sense. And that was all that mattered.

One bloom in the top left corner, one diagonal from it in the bottom right corner. Then, there was one on the bottom left going straight up and down, with a slight curve to the stem. . . And one more, laying on its side directly in the middle. . .

It was perfect. Just as you’d imagined.

You filled in the blank spaces with the brown marker, immulating the antiqued, stained mahogany wood you were envisioning.

And once you filled it all in, your vision had come to life right before your own eyes. It was the ideal picture of what you saw, and despite the fact that you were no artist, it was beautiful. You loved it. Looking at it forced emotions you weren’t expecting, so many big emotions that begged to be surfaced.

And for whatever reason, looking at it made you think of the baby. This beautiful, hand drawn box held a strange connection to the life you and Jake had created, though you couldn’t explain how. . .

But, you felt it. You felt it so strongly.

“Lavender means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Gia asked you, smiling and wiping away a stray tear that sat on top of her highlighted cheekbone. “It’s very lovely, y/n. And I’m so glad that you drew it.”

You contemplated her question about lavender. You’d never considered just how prevalent it was in all of your happy places. . . But, it was. It meant so much. . .

Who knew that such a simple plant could bring you so much comfort? So much peace?

A tear came to your eye at the thought of how special the plant had become to you. . . It was really no secret why it’d become special.

Gia leaned over, giving you a small side hug, but didn’t linger before making her way back to her chair. She sat at the edge of it, elbows placed on both knees as she clasped her hands at the front.

“How are we feeling?” She asked, sniffling once more as she looked you directly in the eyes. “A little better now that we have our box?”

“Yes,” you nodded, wiping under your eye to rid yourself of any tears. “The box idea is genius.”

“The technical term is containment. Again, it’s simply where the client creates a space to store the distressing memories. I want to emphasize that the memories aren’t coming back to control you, rather you’re the one controlling them. And, the box’s containment of the unpleasant memories gives you a little extra control over these memories and the emotions attached to them. They’re yours to deal with,” she explained softly. “You done with the notebook and pens?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded eagerly, handing the materials back to her. You went over her words in your head, extra control. . . the idea of that sounded wonderful to you. Those words aided in lifting a decent amount of weight from your nervous body.

She took the materials from you, and as she did so, you decided to take the paddles in your hands once more, feeling much more confident.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, rolling back in her tufted chair to put the markers and pencils back on the desk. “I definitely can’t take credit for the idea of containing those horrendous memories in a certain area. . . but it has proven wonderfully effective for every client I’ve practiced this form of therapy with,” she explained further, coming back to sit in front of you, wheeling smoothly back towards you. When she was about two feet away from you, she stopped and observed the picture of your box, the notepad still in her lap. “Do you have a clear idea of the box in your mind?”

“The clearest,” you affirmed, no question in your mind of the precise placement of each piece of lavender. The exact color of mahogany that you’d depicted for the wood, sealed in your brain.

“Wonderful. Well, I’m going to hold it so I can get a good idea of it; just in case you need help finding it at any point,” she said, eyes scanning the page as she spoke. “I’d love to see this in real life – it’s gorgeous.”

“I think so, too,” you grinned, eyes twinkling. And, suddenly, your body felt light in a way that could only indicate one thing. . . you knew there was no time like the present. “I’m ready.”

Gia looked up at your words, her own eyes donning a spark as she tucked the notepad onto her lap. “If you’re ready, I’m ready,” she smiled kindly, her eyes trustworthy and open for opportunity. “First things first. Make yourself as comfortable as you need to. Sit, lay down. . . it’s up to you.”

You kept yourself upright on the couch, allowing yourself to sink back into its cushions a bit more. And for some reason, the thought of crossing your legs, criss-cross applesauce came to mind. So, you did just that, bringing your legs up to the couch and criss-crossing one over the other. You looked at your belly as you did. A timid grin crept along your lips at the thought of knowing you didn't have much longer until you’d no longer be able to do this.

Thank you, sweet baby.

With one deep breath in, you felt your stiff limbs loosen with the comfort of the new position you found yourself in. And with the exhale, you looked down at the paddles in your hands, holding them probably a bit too tight as you felt your nails digging into your clammy palms. Still yet, you kept your grip, somehow feeling a bit more secure that way.

“Nice and comfy?” Gia asked, her warm, knowing smile aiding in relaxing your body even more.

You looked down at your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the cool plastic of the paddles. You knew this was it, that this could begin to change a lot; it could change everything. The thought of change was a frightening one, but with this change would come a healing journey like you’d never known. For you, for the baby, for Jake, even. . .

“As I’ll ever be,” you confidently answered. You were ready to embark on this expedition of mending.

“Perfect,” she said, her voice soft, reassuring. “Close your eyes, take a few deep breaths. Let yourself relax.”

You did as she said, and with one breath in through your nose and blowing it slowly out of your mouth, you closed your eyes.

You felt your chest rise and fall with each breath. You began to breathe deeper and easier the longer your eyes were closed.

“Good job.” You heard her sweet voice, feeling comforted by the simple fact that you knew she was still with you. Though you could no longer see her, you felt her. And that was more than enough. “I’ll start the paddles off slowly, just like last time. Turning them on in 3, 2. . .”

Your body instinctively jolted at the light humming sensation you felt against your palms, your eyes closing a little tighter. But, you quickly remembered the feeling from last time and it didn’t take you very long to get used to it. You even found a little relief in the alternating vibrations. Their consistent rhythm worked to ease your mind. Your eyes, though still closed, instinctively followed in the back and forth motion of the pulsations in your palms.

“Does this speed feel okay?” You heard her ask, her voice suddenly becoming more distant as you let yourself focus on the steady thrumming of the paddles.

“Yes,” you whispered, the sound of your voice echoing as though you were in a long, narrow tunnel. “Feels good.”

“We’ll start with establishing your safe place, y/n. Go ahead and start walking to it. Lead the way.”

My safe place.

Suddenly, as though the mere mention of it had some sort of ability to transcend you there, you began feeling the familiar cool breeze against your face. Faint sounds of the birds singing in the forest of trees filled your ears, becoming a bit louder as you found your footing against the lightly dampened grass beneath your feet. “The birds,” you felt yourself say. “They’re singing, their chirps are becoming clearer now.”

“Wonderful.” Her voice was heard all around you, echoing against the wind. “Tell me what you see.”

Your eyes, still physically shut, began to open in your mind. They squinted at the bright, warm rays from the sun. And as you turned your face upwards toward the sky, you could feel the radiance of the rays against your skin.

And, as you peered a few feet ahead of you, you witnessed a beautiful family of deer were perusing the lush meadow.

“The sun. . . It’s so beautiful and bright, but it doesn’t hurt to look at it,” you shared with her, squinting towards it with no negative effect, shocked by the fact. “And the deer. So innocent and pure. They’re so near to me, but not scared of me at all.”

“You’re doing amazing, y/n. Keep going, tell me what you can touch, what you can smell.” Her voice carried throughout the trees like the wind, meshing beautifully with the songs of the birds.

Bending down, you ran your fingers through the dewy blades of grass. They felt cool, soft. Like a blanket of emerald velvet. “The grass. It’s soft, a little wet.”

And then, the smells. The fragrance of freshly rain coated grass, as though an evening shower had just finished nourishing the ground before you’d arrived. The rainfall, sustaining the life of the pasture, the jude green grasses, the illustrious amethyst plant surrounding you. . .

The divine aroma from your favored flower overwhelmed your senses in the most alluring way. The bloomed field, surrounding you, holding you carefully in its gentle grasp.

“The lavender,” you felt yourself say, eagerly. “I can smell it, so fresh and clean; the sense of calm it brings me. . .”

You then felt the paddles pick up in their speed, ever so slightly, but enough that you could tell.

“Oh yes, your lavender,” Gia hushed as she positively tracked with you.

My lavender.

Gently, you sat your body down in the midst of the flowers. And once you did, you felt the urge to place your hands against your tummy, to feel the baby, just like last time.

There you are, right where you belong, you thought when you felt the smooth bump beneath your hands.

You felt nearly complete, nearly, but you knew something was still missing—someone.

And just when you started to look beyond the stems of lavender to find him, there he was.

Clad in the very same navy blue, three piece suit you’d seen him in the first time. The rays from the sun bounced off of his chestnut locks, his tanned skin radiant and glowing.

With a soft, lopsided smile, he slowly walked toward you. The vision of him, walking amongst the stalks of lavender as they gently swayed from the light breeze against his calves. . . You felt yourself sigh with relief.

This was safe. This was home.

Once he approached you in what felt like no time at all, he laid down right beside you, extending one arm out for you to join him. And as you did, letting yourself at last melt into his warm embrace, you were finally there.

Your safest place.

“I’m here now,” you muttered, feeling yourself smile warmly as you did. “And I’m safe.”

“Enjoy it for a moment, let it sink in, put yourself at ease.” You heard Gia’s voice, but the more you focused on Jake, the more distant she became.

You found yourself gazing into his eyes, sparkling like golden gems, as he cradled you in the crook of his arm.

In his amber-brown eyes, you saw your haven, your sanctuary of serenity.

A gentle smile graced his lips as he reached up, tenderly brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. “It’s time to step away now, y/n,” he told you. Though, you knew it was truthfully Gia telling you, you heard Jake’s voice. You watched his lips move as he spoke, “You can do this. I’m right here.”

Again, you knew the words were coming from Gia. But, hearing them in his voice, as much as you didn’t want to leave him, it was the final push you needed.

It was time.

With only a bit of resistance, you sat up, slowly standing to your feet and urged yourself forward towards the unknown. When you looked back, you saw Jake standing gracefully amongst the fragrant blooms of your lavender.

Home, you thought. He looks like home.

With one final sigh, and with the most strength you were sure you’d ever mustered, you walked away from him.

Your hands found your belly for some extra courage as you stepped away, everything turning black for a moment once you got far enough. But, the further you went, a tiny, dim light caught your attention. It initially seemed like miles away, but with every step you took, it became worlds closer.

A lamp. You could finally see it. It was old, dusty. It was sitting atop a table, from what you could tell. . .

With one more step, the full picture started to come to you. You’d guessed right — it sat on top of a round, wooden table that only had one leg in the center, making it lean a little to the left. The white, canvas lampshade was stained so badly. . .

The stains were reminiscent of those that come from years of smoking cigarettes near it.

In fact, you were shocked that you could tell it had ever been white.

As the image became more clear, you saw a black ash tray next to the lamp, full of cigarette butts, all but confirming your cigarette theory. You could smell the smoke, too, as though someone had just finished one off. The stench was putrid, the chemically treated tobacco mixed disgustingly with the other trash laying on the table.

To the right, you saw a sofa. The blue cloth over the cushions, stained just like the lamp, was tattered and worn. It was full of holes. Tiny, black holes. Cigarette burns?

God, the smell was nearly becoming too much. It was so strong, potent. Cigarettes and filth. Utter filth. Filth that you suddenly began to remember being suffocated by as a child.

No wonder you liked things so pristinely clean. . .

The shag carpet beneath your feet felt like it had never been vacuumed after years of wear. It was littered with half empty beer cans, more cigarette butts, rat droppings. . .

God — the fucking smell. A triggering smell—one that had your stomach turning to the point that vomit rose in your throat.

The paddles sped up a bit more, much more noticeably this time as they forced your brain to grasp what you were experiencing.

“Tell me what you see, y/n. Tell me where you are.” It was no longer Jake’s voice that you were hearing, it was once again Gia’s. And though you missed the sound of his, you were so happy to hear her, reminding you that she was still there.

This was the past. Gia was the present. You were with Gia.

You stepped to the side, glancing around the room you were standing in, trying with all of your might to not allow the stench to make you sick.

“It’s—I’m in a living room, I think. . .?” You noticed a television set, one from the late nineties with a built-in VCR, sitting on top of a makeshift table made of three small slabs of particle board.

The more you looked around, you noticed there was only one average-sized window in the whole room, next to the white front door. The door was scuffed to hell and looked ready to give at any second. The blinds attached to the window were ripped to shreds, hardly hanging onto the frame.

“Y-yeah, it’s a living room. It’s. . .It was our living room. One of them, at least. I’m fully beginning to. . . To recognize it. . .”

You’d lived in so many homes as a child, seen many living rooms. But this one, this home and the walls surrounding you. . .this one was different. While most homes from your childhood didn’t leave you with happy memories, this one felt—evil. This had been a personal hell.

Anxiety, heavy sadness. . . this room was wrought with it.

And as you heard a certain laugh, deep and throaty, from the next room over, your stomach churned and your mind went fuzzy. That sound. It was vile and thick with too many years of smoking. That particular laugh was associated with ugliness and gut-wrenching fear.

The man that the laugh was attached to. . . This was his house. You remembered that now. There was no safety here. This place was only associated with feeling powerless, forgotten, and lonely.

The paddles wiggled in your hands, the vibrations reaching your worn nerves.

Elsie was here, though. Somewhere. You knew that.

And Elsie had helped in making it less lonely — just knowing she was in this past-tense moment filled you with ease. Your sister was here.

Though, you knew for past Elsie, she was still trapped. Even though she comforted this adult version of you that was invading. . . there was still no escape for little girl Elsie.

This place had been desolate, with no chance for escape. You’d been tied here by invisible rope.

Fuck. Where was your sister? You could feel her near, but she wasn’t in the living room with you. Your skin prickled at what she could be experiencing. . . You couldn’t fully wrap your brain around it.

But this was the past. Right now, you just needed to focus on your surroundings.

Living room. The living room.

Your mind was quickly skirting back to your present placement. And, rather than standing, you suddenly realized you were sitting on the ground. Strangely, your hands in the memory were free of the paddles, tucked safely in your lap, shaking. . . And not daring to touch the dirty, shaggy carpet.

For a split second, you wondered. . . Why were you not sitting on the couch or a chair? And why were you sitting in a place you felt you couldn’t move from? Was this how you’d been placed originally? In the past?

You observed the wobbly dinner table in front of you and realized it had zero chairs. And on a second glance around the room, you noticed something you hadn’t before. . . a sleeping form on the couch.

So, it seemed, with the occupied couch being the only other piece of furniture in the living room besides the table. . . the floor had been your only option.

You used the unconscious state of the room’s other occupant to your advantage and turned a bit to observe the person. The person’s face wasn’t visible and their body was covered in a blanket filled with holes and torn more than it wasn’t. But. . . You could see hair.

Blonde. Yellow-blonde. Box-dyed with the cheapest dye.

Long hair, ratty and knotted to the point of almost no fixing it. The way the strands shone a little bit under the dim lighting from the old, dusty lamp showed you it was very oily as well. . . It wasn’t a healthy shine.

The person on the couch, from what you could see, was far from healthy in any capacity. The body looked malnourished through the blanket’s holes. At closer inspection, you noticed an arm dangling off the sofa, peeking from the blanket.

The arm was littered in tiny holes and scars. . . from heroin injections, multiple cigarette burns. . . Then there was the red, irritated acne that littered the pale skin, between the various marks.

Poor thing. What a dreaded way to live life. . . Your heart broke in your chest and tears sprung to your tired eyes as your hand clutched at your tummy.

You could do that in the memory. You were you in the present, yet placed like you’d been in the past. . . so weird.

All you knew was you had a sense to protect the untouched life in your womb. The feeling of being a protector to your child was unparalleled to anything in this moment. . . You would never let the little life inside of you bear witness to anything like you had as a child. . .

Like your current situation.

Or, past situation, rather. . . This was not real. Not in the present. This was controlled — controllable.

The paddles jolted in your real hands, helping you to center you.

“Y/n,” Gia’s voice broke through your psyche, touching your brain delicately. You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of her soft spoken tone. “Can you hear me, girly?”

You nodded, but weren’t sure if she could see it or if the action was only visible in your dreamlike stupor. This was so weird. . .

So, you decided to respond the best you could with words. “Y—yeah,” you stuttered out, blinking rapidly as you tried (and failed) to keep tears at bay. “This is. . . So familiar, yet so forgotten. . .,” your voice faded out.

Your eyes in the memory were now pinched shut, trying to keep the laughter you could still hear from the kitchen (because, yes, you somehow knew exactly where it was coming from) far away.

But it just seemed to be getting closer. . .

“Tell me where you are, y/n,” Gia requested, soothing, yet strong. “Take me with you. You are going to be okay.”

“I—I can’t—,” gasping, you shook your head.

Willing the menacing, thick chuckle to fade, you squinted your eyes open slowly, tried to refocus on the living room to tell Gia what you could. Your hands still held your belly, but your thighs came closer to your chest. You wanted to scrunch up and stay in your bubble.

“Y/n.”

Your blood ran cold and your skin prickled harshly with goosebumps. Fear. Terror. Dread.

The voice wasn’t Gia’s. It wasn’t Jake’s. No. It was coming from behind you. The person on the couch. The worn down, baby blue fabric couch. The navy blue patterns of it, a distant memory, washing back quickly like a flood. . .

This was definitely a memory. A real thing that had happened in the past. This had happened before. It was deeply repressed.

A dark memory. Bad. So, so bad.

You felt dirty for more reasons than one now. . .

Looking down, you noticed your outfit had changed. Though you still looked as you currently did in 2022, you were wearing an outfit you had as a child. The attire made your skin crawl.

This pajama set, you were made to wear it more often than not.

A tiny, satin set. Too small for you to properly fit into. How old were you? Nine? Ten? Was this right before you went to live with. . .?

“Pig.”

No. Not that nickname. No no no.

You hadn’t heard that since your mother had called you–.

The person on the couch.

“Piggy.”

Did you have it in yourself to face her? Could you? What would happen if you didn’t? No. No.

You had to. The baby, safe in your belly. . . that baby needed a mom who could face her demons and not fall to them.

. . .Fall to them like the shell of a woman, on the couch behind you, had fallen to hers.

You felt crippled with fear, but brave beyond comparison all at once. . .

The steady tremors from the paddles in your hands were the best help you could’ve had in the moment, reminding you of your power. . .

And, once you’d given yourself the strength to swivel your body to meet her eyes. . . there she was.

A woman whose face had become a shadow since she’d left you. The moment she’d left you. . .a mess of snot and tears, head throbbing as it laid on Elsie’s shoulder, desperate to understand a mother that had never seemed to love you.

Your eyes were her eyes. Thankfully, that was about where the similarities in your features stopped.

She was paler than you. Her lips, thin and cracked from lack of hydration where yours were full. Her cheekbones were sharp and protruded more than they should. . . Your cheekbones, defined, yet concealed under soft skin you took very good care of . . .

And her face. . . It also lacked freckles. You had the tiniest spatter of light freckles that sat at the tops of your cheeks. Your freckles, mimicking angel kisses, which stayed mostly hidden save for the summertime when they’d make an appearance after exposure from the sun. Her skin was washed out, lacking color. It was as if she hadn’t even been exposed to the sun for a long, long time. . .

Perhaps you might’ve looked more like her than you could tell at this moment. But, right now, all you saw was a sunken face, holding more wrinkles and lines than a woman her age should hone. And, her eyes, even if they looked like yours initially, were glassy and hollow from too many drugs. . .

Right now, they held uncertainty and a rage that was becoming more and more apparent the longer you looked into her eyes. . .

She looked lost. . . Confused, yet furious.

The fury, pointed towards you.

“Get. Up,” your mother ordered, voice cracking a bit, spit flying past her chapped lips. The tone of her voice. . . it made your heart jump into your throat. “Do your job, Pig.”

Before you could respond, you felt heavy footsteps make their way into the living room, shaking the weak structure of the small home that seemed to be falling apart around you.

“Move, you lazy drug slut,” a booming voice growled. You knew it was aimed towards your mother. “Give little Piggy some space to sit next to Mr. Morgan, hm?”

Mr. Morgan.

The paddles buzzed in your hands, re-centering you.

You didn’t dare look at the man who’d entered the room behind you, knowing it was the same man attached to the laughter from the kitchen.

So, it was only out of your peripheral vision when you noticed him round to the other side of you, getting close to your mom. The next thing you saw, faded from the corner of your eye, were fat, sausage-like fingers reaching to yank the thin blanket off your mother. The unmasked view of her figure broke your heart further, her body shaking, bones on full display through her papery skin, begging for a fix. . .

It didn’t take long for those same fingers to forcefully clutch her shoulder and yank her up. You could’ve sworn you heard the bones in her shoulder crack, but she barely let out a yelp. It was more of a tired groan, eyes closed and eyebrows drawn in with irritation towards being disturbed.

But, she shook more. . . Her bones, most likely rattling under her skin. And this time, you knew it was more from nerves and terror, than lack of drugs. She was just trying to play tough.

Mr. Morgan (the name, making bile rise in your throat) came to sit at the end of the couch, but your eyes once again drew shut and your body became rigid. Even if you were facing the couch, you still only kept your body towards your mother’s. She wasn’t safe, by any means. But she wasn’t Mr. Morgan.

You couldn’t look at him. The vile smell of him alone, sweat and grime from lack of showering. . . You were going to hurl on the spot. The way the nausea quickly began to rise in the hollow of your throat, you knew there was no time to get out now. . . Your heartbeat was thrumming so vigorously in your chest, you felt like you were going to choke on its strength.

Then the ugly, bitter laughter was back again. . . Right in front of you this time, your mother moaning next to him. . .

A distant beeping in the background. . . what? Where was that coming–?

The intensity of the paddles increased, the vibrations working to balance you amidst the fear.

“Open your eyes, Pig,” Mr. Morgan grunted, reprimanding you. His voice was stark and loud against the decaying walls of the living room. You winced with what you imagined to come, your heart accelerating and your blood running colder than cold. “Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes, my little whor–.”

The paddles were working so hard to bring you back, but you couldn’t–.

“Y/n.” Gia’s voice rang out through the disgusting home, flowing into your ears, reassuring you. “It’s time to leave, y/n. Find your safe place.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, not with the tears streaming down your face and the way your breath was stuck in your lungs. Your chest stung from the way your heart rate wouldn’t let up. . . the way your heart raced, unrelenting and beating harder every time. . . . The pain was excruciating, making you want to keel over from the intensity.

There wasn’t a memory of leaving the room, you just knew you had left as you ran.

You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, eyes still shut to avoid being used by him–Mr. Morgan. God. You hated that man. You hated your mother.

But, you weren’t with them anymore. The rotting smell of the home and the body odor that reeked from the two people in your vision – it was all gone. You were out. So, you decided to open your eyes. You had to open them to find the place you’d created for a time just like this. . .

Your place. Your home. The field of lavender. Jake. Peaceful serenity, awaiting you amongst the birds chirping and the light blue skies. . .

So, with eyes open and tears streaming down your cheeks, you decided you needed to be there now. Now now now now. . .

And before you could request it any further, your feet were touching the lush grass and the skies were clear and powdery blue above you. . .

“Are you safe, y/n?” Gia asked, her voice much clearer when you were in the field, surrounded by nature. Your sanctuary.

“Yes,” you breathed, voice cracking just a little on the word. You hadn’t spoken for a while. . . Too scared to do so. Clearing your throat, you tried once more. “Yes. Yes, I’m safe. I’m in my safe place. The lavender. The beautiful, tall trees filled with green leaves. The breeze is perfectly warm against my face. . .”

“Wonderful,” Gia said, sounding relieved and stoic all at once. “You are okay, girly. You are okay. It’s not your current reality. It’s not right now. This is right now. You are safe.”

Yes. I’m safe.

Your breathing was coming much easier and your heart wasn’t pounding in your ears any longer.

Your hands found your belly, the sweetest little round bump. But where was. . .?

Then, you felt him. Jake.

Solid and sure behind you, his chest meeting your back. His arms, coming to wrap around you, cradling you and the belly that held his baby. Your head, falling of its own accord to lay back on his shoulder. . .

You were finally able to relax. Let go. The tears poured from your eyes, wetting your cheeks with steady tracks.

“Shhh,” Jake shushed you, the minty smell of his toothpaste lingering on his breath as it washed over your features. The sandalwood-vanilla of his cologne was reminiscent of heaven, you were sure of it. “It’s okay, baby.”

He swayed you a little, your eyes falling closed in peaceful surrender to him and this moment. . .

“Y/n, I want you to think of your box,” you heard the words, knowing it was Gia. But, you felt Jake saying it. Even if she was the one saying the words, you wanted him to help guide you, too. Your mind was a funny place.

His voice kept soothing you, “Think of the box and open it. Open it and place the memory you stepped into today inside of it. Secure that memory inside of the box.”

So, with one fleeting glance at the disgusting past you’d had to re-experience today, you mentally opened the lid to the box. And, as the lid opened, you let the people and the stingy place flow quickly into the sturdy wooden structure of the box.

You could have spit on the people and the place and the smells. . . Fuck it all.

The sureness of the box truly calmed you as the last little bit of the memory faded into the box.

“Tuck it away in your box. Just keep it there until you’re ready to revisit it again. . .,” Gia counseled, her words yet again came through as if Jake were saying them. His breath was warm against the column of your throat, lips near to your ear. “You have control of it, y/n.”

Once you knew it was all inside, you let the lid click shut. The little pieces of lavender you imagined to be skillfully painted atop the box assured you that it would all be over soon.

Beep beep beep beep. The beeping again. Familiar. You’d heard it momentarily at the disgusting, decrepit house. What was it?

“Y/n,” you heard Gia again, her words no longer masked by Jake’s voice. “Are you ready to come back to the office?”

As much as you wanted to never leave the man who still held you, you knew that the sooner you left the safe place, the sooner you could actually see him. He was waiting for you. In the lobby. In the present.

“Yeah,” you sighed with a sniffle, most of your tears dry after the safety you’d felt in the field of lavender. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

“I’m right here with you,” Gia assured you, her voice the closest it had been since initially closing your eyes.

You closed your eyes once more, your body feeling lighter. Letting yourself sink into real time, you felt the soft, camel leather of the couch under you, around you. Then came the smell of Gia’s essential oils, filtering in through your senses. Things were okay.

When your eyes cracked open, so tentative and slow, Gia was ready and waiting with open eyes.

But the beeping. . . It was still happening — it was incessant. And it was fully apparent now that the sound was coming from your belt bag, hanging on Gia’s office door handle.

Your heart monitor.

Shit.

“How long has that been going off?” You blanched, eyes bugged as you got off the couch to grab your bag from the handle. Though, your legs were weaker than you expected, body worn down. It forced you to sit back down to gain your wherewithal.

Noticing this, Gia stuck a hand out to get you to pause from trying again. “I will grab the bag,” she soothed. “You stay there. Give yourself time to adjust to the present time. You’ve been through it, babe.”

All you could do was nod and swallow thickly, your heart no longer beating hard enough to make the phone go off. But apparently it had accelerated at some point. . .

And then you remembered.

Mr. Morgan. He’d made your heart rate go ballistic.

When he’d approached, commanded you to open your eyes, and almost called you that horrible name. . . it had gone insane.

Your chest had been in so much pain, and you could remember hearing the incessant beeping, now. . .

“Fuck, Gia,” you combed a hand through your hair. “My heart . . . I remember. . . my chest was hurting like a bitch.”

Gia inhaled deeply. “Yeah. . . You know, how about I hold the phone that tracks it from here on out? To keep an eye on your heart rate?” She suggested, raising a brow as she walked back to you with the belt bag. Raising a brow, she eyed you as she got close enough to hand your belongings over to you. “We need to be aware of your health and the baby’s first and foremost, before anything else.”

You swallowed with a slight nod, not wanting to see where your heart had skyrocketed to. But you knew you had to see it. So, you unzipped your bag and shakily got your monitor phone out.

When you slid the screen open to check, your breath caught in your throat. Tears welled in your eyes at the very large number, flashing at you in red.

Shit. 185. What the fuck?

That could have gotten really bad, really fast if Gia hadn’t stopped you when she did.

“So. . . What had it gotten to?” Gia questioned carefully, wide eyes serious and ready to help.

You observed her for a second, not wanting to divulge just how high it had gotten for one reason in specific. . . The fear that Gia would make you stop EMDR if she knew just how high it had gotten — that possibility kept your lips sealed.

“Girly, I really feel it’s incredibly important that we keep track of that. I didn’t want to be invasive while you were under, but I heard it and I knew what it was. . .,” Gia tried to counsel you, taking your skeptical gaze as you finding her invasive. “I really didn’t like not knowing what your heart rate was. It’s best we stay aware of that. We have to be so careful of that, girly.”

You wanted to tell her. Duh. Why wouldn’t you want to? You told her everything else. . . The possibility of not being able to—.

“We will still continue our EMDR, y/n,” Gia grinned warmly with a wink. “I know that’s what you’re worried about. . .”

Your mouth puckered, as you took in a deep breath, gawking at the tall blonde across from you.

You couldn’t help the bubble of a laugh that spurted from your lips, in spite of your worried thoughts. You were in awe of your therapist’s intuition. “How did you know?” You questioned, already mostly knowing the answer.

The answer was: people in this profession were really very incredible. . . And Gia — she, in particular, was so empathetic and so aware of everything that mattered to you. . .

“It’s my job to tune in to that shit,” she grinned, sitting back in her rolling chair, one leg crossed over the other.

After sharing a smirk with her, you decided you might as well tell her. You were nearing the end of your time, and you assumed she still wanted to be filled in on what had happened during your time under.

“My BPM was. . . in the 180s,” you divulged, wary of her reaction. “That’s um—that’s really high,” you tagged on to the end, blowing out a breath, still shocked at the number yourself.

“Ho-ly fuck,” Gia stated, eyes wide and mouth in a straight line as she shook her head. “No shit that’s high.”

“We’ll figure it out?” you stated the question, hoping it would be ammunition for Gia to agree.

“Of course,” she nodded adamantly. Sitting up in her chair, she leaned forward. Her elbows, on the ends of her thighs, near her knee caps. “When do you turn it in? How long do we have with it?”

“I turn it in next week,” you answered, curious where she was going. “Hopefully I’ll get some results and sure answers. . .” Trailing off, you decided to shut up so she could get to her point.

“Well. . .,” she started, rubbing her palms together, eyes glancing down and back to you, “Would you be opposed to me attaching another monitor to you during our sessions? After that one is turned in?”

“That’s a great plan,” you answered, nodding with pursed lips. “Sounds safe.” Though, you paused. One more question. “And you’ll keep watch of it next time?”

“If that’s what you want from me, I’d love to be able to help you in that way,” she answered with a reassuring sureness in her tone.

“I do want that,” you replied with a sheepish grin. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, girly,” Gia smiled, lopsided and full of ease. “We’ll make sure to get you through this therapy the safest we possibly can. Gotta protect you and that baby.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

After filling her in on everything from your EMDR vision, she’d given you a few more pieces of therapeutic wisdom and advice. Little things to follow if the memories came back with a vengeance.

But, you’d gone more than five minutes over your session’s time at that point, pushing her other appointment back.

So, you didn’t get long before the two of you had to bustle out. You’d been about eight minutes past session end time when you officially exited the small room, the session having just ended.

A long fucking session.

Your body was extremely weighed down by fatigue and exhaustion. So, when you finally connected with Jake, you sunk happily into his warm, safe embrace.

It seemed walking directly into Jake’s arms was exactly what your body longed for after leaving Gia’s office. You’d had little to no choice in where your body had guided you.

He had already been standing, waiting for you. His amber-brown eyes, wide open and full of readiness to help you. He’d seemed anxious to see you. You could tell as much by the tapping of his foot, the way he’d been worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, the wrinkle of his brows. . .

So, of course, as soon as you approached, his arms had widened to welcome you in.

Surprisingly, you hadn’t cried when you met his arms. . . Honestly, it was probably because you’d exhausted your tear ducts during your session. And all that you felt now was pure numbness. You didn’t know how to feel – just knew that you were tired and needed someone to be close to.

And Jake was the person you wanted most.

Once safe in his embrace, you didn’t have the mental energy to even think about how it would look to Gia – but you knew she’d understand.

You felt Gia come up behind you, even halfway heard her introducing herself to Jake.

And even though you were out of it, you still heard Jake respond kindly, hearing the smile in his voice. When he moved his hand to shake hers, you didn’t turn around, just kept your face tucked into his shoulder, one of his arms still tightly hugging you to him. The pressure was really nice – it really calmed you down to feel so secure with him.

It felt like the field of lavender, but this was really real – and that made it inexplicably better.

Thankfully since you’d quickly scheduled the next session in Gia’s office, you didn’t have to wait much longer to head home. You didn’t want to leave his embrace, but you ended up turning out of Jake’s arms to tell Gia goodbye.

When you reached forward to give her a hug, she whispered calmly in your ear. “You’re safe. Everything is okay in the here and now. I’m proud of you, y/n. You are already making great strides.”

After telling her a quiet ‘thank you’, you turned to Jake.

“I’m ready when you are,” he assured you, lips turned up in an easy grin. His eyes were soft in a way that showed you he really was ready to be whatever you needed him to be.

You didn’t need to be told again. You were ready for food and sleep. So, after the two of you waved to Gia over your shoulders, Jake let you lead him out, opening the door for you from behind.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you snapped out of your daze and found a bit of energy, you decided to divulge to Jake just how high your heart rate had gotten during the session.

You had expected him to be a little worried on your behalf, but he’d gotten. . . really, really worried. You’d go so far as to call it a minor anxiety attack.

His eyes had bugged, face had paled, and his breathing had gotten choppy. . . All signs of some serious anxiety on his end.

His care for the situation was apparent, that much was for certain. He’d babbled in a rush of words – voiced a lot of concern on your behalf and the baby’s. . . Well, that was what you could catch in his raspy, frenzied tone. You’d missed a few things as he’d rushed the words out.

It was really sweet how much he cared. You had to work to keep the tiny grin off your face in response to his obviously sincere regard for your health (and the baby’s). You’d kept your quiet smile at bay the best you could and calmly reassured him that you were wearing a heart monitor for a reason – so the doctors could track those weird things and get down to the root of why your heart sucked ass at times.

You’d explained that medical professionals had started dealing with it the night at the emergency room and would continue once your monitor got sent in within the next couple of weeks.

“I know today’s already been a lot, but do you have it in you to explain more about that night?” Jake asked, his breathing evening out as he rounded the curb, out of the office parking lot. “The night you went to the emergency room?”

“Yeah, totally,” you readily agreed, jumping at the opportunity to not think about the muddled images still flashing in your mind from your session. “Where do you want me to start?” You wondered aloud, peeking at him as you picked with a loose string on the seam of your leggings.

He cleared his throat in the way that indicated he was a little nervous. “What triggered it, exactly? Had you been okay at the bar that night? Was it because of something that had happened there?”

“It wasn’t really because of anything that happened at the bar, no,” you shook your head, looking down at the string you were pulling at, giving it a good yank to do away with it. “And I was kind of okay that night. . . Same as I’d been every other day around the time,” you laughed humorlessly, not missing those days at all.

But, you couldn’t help reflecting on the events at the bar. . . since he'd brought it up. That night, just thinking of it still gave you butterflies. . . The way he’d feasted his eyes on you as your song played. . .

Stay focused, y/n.

“Um— during those earlier days, I’d had several days where I’d been really fuckin’ dizzy. . . could hardly eat most days, always nauseous and puking. . .,” you crinkled your nose at the thought, shivering at the memories.

After getting over the thought of the constant vomiting, you stopped your train of thought to consider the fainting. All of the factors. You were not sure what to blame in particular. Though, you remembered Dr. Stevens’ opinion.

“Honestly, more than one factor triggered it. . . but. . .,” you drew in a breath, pinching your eyes shut at the worst part of the night. “I actually blacked out and fucking fainted,” you cracked one eye open to look over at him to gauge his reaction.

“You blacked— you what?!” His voice rose a little bit at the idea, the car swerving the slightest bit when he glanced at you.

“Focus on the road!” You shook your head, eyes now opened wide at his swerve. However, you did find his reaction a bit funny. “I’m fine now, Jake,” you reassured, reaching over to give his arm one squeeze.

But quickly, you placed your hand back in your lap to avoid any sort of awkwardness.

You offered him a smile as your hand moved, looking up at him from your twitching thumbs, just as he glanced down at you.

His eyebrows were still knit with worry when he faced the road again. “You’re sure?”

“Mostly,” you answered, thinking of the heart monitor’s job, peering down briefly to where it stayed on your chest. “They’re tracking my heart rate to make totally sure. And I’ve even kept an eye on my hemoglobin — which is doing much better, too. Not that you care about that part—.”

“I care about it all,” Jake interrupted, his tone insistent enough to make you pause and look over at him.

Let him care, y/n. He wants to. . . Don’t tell him what he cares about and what he doesn’t. . .

From under your lashes, you studied him. You were glad he was now stopped at a light, giving you a little time to share a look with him. His eyes were full of warmth. . . The deep brown of his irises, capturing you. His eyes held yours so tenderly, desperate for you to understand he meant what he said.

And you did understand. You understood that he truly cared for you. . . and that his patience for you was incredible. You just felt completely undeserving of the amount of chances he’d given you after you’d hurt him so badly.

The look in his eyes had you trapped, completely enamored by all of him. . . Your heart beat was pulsing in your ears, helping you to feel light as a feather under his stare.

But, when a car honked to let you both know the light had turned green, it jolted you both, effectively tearing your focus from the other. He was driving again and you were back to looking through the windshield to continue your story.

You cleared your throat to break up the air.

“We um— we checked all the boxes, you could say. The doctor was sure to put measures in place to keep an eye on all of the things that could have been a major issue to trigger that,” you spoke confidently, to give him affirmation that things were okay. “So, yes, I’m sure I’m fine now and I’m going to be fine in the future.”

Out of selfish desire, you let your line of sight float back to him. Yet again. It was just so easy to sit and admire his natural beauty. . .

Jake sucked in a breath, so deep from his chest. You could tell he was considering your words, one brow still arched in contemplation.

“Okay,” he sighed his response, relief evident in his looser posture. He eased up his grip on the wheel, leaning back in the seat. You tried not to watch the way his jeans stretched over his lap. “So,” he started, “is there anything else you found out that night? A big, prevailing reason you quite literally blacked out?”

“The doctor I spoke to thinks it’s because of this underlying condition I most likely have — called POTS.”

“POTS?” He asked, his tone curious. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.”

“It’s just a blood circulation disorder. I think I’ve had it nearly all my life. But it can be brought on by stress and cause things like fainting. . .,” you trailed off, glancing down at your belly. “Which I was obviously feeling a lot of with the baby. I mean, talk about massive life change,” you smirked, rubbing the bump that was more and more noticeable every day.

“And I was the only one who knew this giant thing for a bit. . . then only Elsie knew. And, yeah, when Josh found out, I was feeling a little better. Felt lighter. . .,” you paused, your next words, being important to you. “But I still wanted to tell you most,” your lips lifted in spite of yourself. “But, we weren’t really talking because of all the shit that happened between u–.”

You stopped yourself at that, though. Shit. Today didn’t really seem like the time to get into all of that. It had already been such a long day.

The car stayed silent for a few beats.

Once Jake started speaking again, your eyes found his handsome profile.

“Yeah. . .,” Jake offered in response to that, his jaw clenching. His eyes were dead-set on the road. The expression on his face, hard. Yet. . .it wasn’t angry. Not angry at all, just thoughtful.

He seemed to be contemplating it all.

He proved you right with his next words, bringing you back. “I need you to know—I’m really fucking sorry for not being so present—for not noticing more. I wish I would’ve been more aware and been there for you. . . Shit, I should have noticed you weren’t eating normally and were constantly sick,” he rubbed his forehead once, jaw tight again as he spoke on the subject. “I was still just stuck in my own head over stuff — really hurt. I still am, I think. But, I also, more importantly, had no way of knowing that you were carrying my kid, so. . .,” he trailed off, clearing his throat. “So I didn’t watch too hard for things out of the ordinary — my mind was in other places.”

Other places, your mind repeated, mocking you. Like Maya. . .

Your stomach was still churning at the depressing thought of him having ignored you and still being hurt (albeit, you’d deserved it), when his voice echoed back through your train of thought.

“I did notice you weren’t home that night, though. . . After dropping Maya off at her place, I got home and you weren’t there. I. . .,” he sniffed, running a nervous hand through his hair as he looked both ways to make a turn. “I panicked, noticed your chapstick and house key were on the ground outside — it made no fuckin’ sense. I called Josh to ask him where you were — assumed he’d know. And, he did. But he told me the bare fucking minimum. I didn’t even know you were at the emergency room. He just told me not to worry and cut me off with an ‘I love you’ before hanging up on me,” Jake rolled his eyes at the memory, fists gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Now I know it’s because you obviously really needed him. . . But at that point, I was so pissed. Obviously, you were in some sort of bind and there was nothing I could do to help since we were. . .,” he let his train of thought fade into nothing. Your mind was a frenzy of everything he was telling you, but you tuned back in when he began speaking again. “And then your heart monitor came in the mail. . . I didn’t even think about how they could be connected. I just knew the very little Josh had told me from that night and then I saw a damn heart monitor show up. . . I was just super fucking confused and terrified for you. . . I was trying my best to connect all of the dots.”

“Well. . .,” you started, not sure if you should say what you were thinking. But still, you did. “It wasn’t really any of your business at that point. I didn’t want to make you— it was just a lot to process for me and we. . .,” you trailed off, at a loss. Still so tired from the session. “I don’t know. . . I had reasons.”

“I know, y/n,” he responded, voice tight with masked emotion.

You didn’t know what to say after that. Your eyes were trained on what was outside the passenger side window.

The air in the car was dense, slightly awkward on your end.

It was strange how weird things could feel after a damn conversation when, just a week ago in this very car, you’d had him in your mouth.

It was slightly embarrassing that a hard conversation topic was what it took to make both of you freeze up. But, somehow, you could still find the wherewithal to have your mouth on his. . . Mhm.

That was what you got for making sex such a giant thing before. . . now you’d made that easy and everything else fucking taboo.

But the sex had just been too good to not make it something you did all the damn time. . .

God, you missed sex with him. . . Him, inside of you, his hips going at a perfect pace. . .

Thanks to your motherfucking hormones, you were back in the living room floor with him. . . So often, you went back to that one rainy morning with Aretha Franklin on the turntable. . .

The look on his face when you fucked him, one of your favorite sights. That morning, just like always, he’d watched you so closely. . . Your face, your breasts, your ass, or your pussy that was wrapped around him, so tight.

As he fucked you so slow and purposeful, a hand raising your leg to get a better angle, he hit a secret spot inside of you. Your toes had curled as you whined his name.

And just as his name fell from your lips, he’d scrunched his brows, and let his mouth fall open with certain movements of his hips. His jaw, clenched, when you’d flex around him or biting his lip when you’d let out a shaky breath. . .

“Y/n?”

“Yes?” You shook your head of the fucking delicious scene in your memories.

Now was not the time.

To show respect, you did your best to wipe the picture and put your full attention on him. You glanced at him. He looked so beautiful under the natural light of the early evening and the streetlights. And his hair looked so healthy and long. . .

“I’m not upset or anything that you kept any of it from me,” he ventured to explain, your mind coming back to the topic at hand. “I need you to know that.”

“You’ve kind of already told me all of this before,” you started with a smile, eyeing the radio for a bit.

Music. You needed music.

You began to mess with the buttons, turned down the volume, and hooked your phone up to the aux. “I know you, Jake,” you continued with a sigh, scrolling your playlists, finding a song you were suddenly craving to hear. “I know you well enough to know you aren’t upset with me for keeping it all from you for a bit. You have a good heart.”

“You give me too much credit,” he humorously laughed. “I’m not always so sure about how good I am these days — kind of always doubted that about myself and right now is no different.”

At his words and sound of disbelief, you looked over at him with a wrinkle in your brow. His own eyebrows were set with an odd, unreadable emotion. You hadn’t clicked the song to play yet. This was too important to not address.

“Jacob,” you said sternly. His eyes stayed glued to the busier street. “I don’t give you ‘too much credit’. I just see you and know you well – anyone who truly matters sees you for who you truly are. I, like all of them, love y— appreciate everything you are.”

Shit. What was that that almost slipped from your lips?! Nothing. It was nothing. Ignore, ignore, ignore. . .

You were just hormonal and emotional.

You continued with intent to make your point known, doing your best to forget the slip-up. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes – we all have. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m not about to hold anything against you right now.”

Cracking a smile, you decided you wanted to throw in a bit of a joke. “I mean, I would have to hold it against you if you killed someone or some shit,” you giggled, his own raspy laugh joining you.

But fuck, you couldn’t ignore that one emotion you were feeling. . .

It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. You didn’t know why the fuck you’d said that word of all words.

But this feeling. . . It was intense like love could be. It had your heart in your throat and your tummy tied in nervous knots. . .

You’d felt a need to say the words. A need for him to know how much you. . . how much you. . . How much you what, exactly?!

This was going to drive you fucking nuts.

So, to break the nonstop, crazy wave of thought, you played the song you felt like playing at the moment.

The song was “In the Moment” by Snoh Aalegra, one of your favorite R&B goddesses.

And, of course, the lyrics matched your heart. Perfectly. Oddly. Precisely. Music was your favorite language.

Do you mind if I try to come apologize to you?

'Cause I said some things that I realized wasn't true

You couldn’t stop your movements when your head slowly turned to look in his direction. His sunglasses were off due to the darker sky, so you could see every blink of his pretty eyes, long lashes touching the dark circles under his eyes with each blink. He watched the road carefully, maneuvered around cars with an ease that had you hoping he’d be around to drive you to the hospital on a certain day in May. . .

Your heart swelled in your chest at his attention to the road. This particularly protective nature of his, as the driver, was new. . .

And I'm sorry for it

I'm emotional

This is your fault

Please listen when I say

I care about you

You tried to look away from him. Really, you did. It just couldn’t be helped. The way these lyrics kept pulling something from deep within your soul as you watched him drive. . .

But you still couldn’t figure out what was getting pulled in you, exactly. It felt weird, but only in a fulfilling way. . . Your heart ached, your head clouded with all things surrounding him.

And then, just as he stopped at a red light, his eyes met yours.

You had been caught red handed in your stare, but it didn’t seem to matter. Not to you, not to him. He smiled at you, the same, warm smile you knew all too well to be uniquely his. (And hopefully your baby’s.)

The lyrics and melody of the song were adding to your already emotionally-tangled state. You just wanted to be with him always—hold him tight so he couldn’t leave. Never wanted him to leave.

Out of pure instinct, your hands found rest on your tummy, tucking underneath the bump. His smile only grew, stretching wide on his lips as his eyes followed the movement. Your heart did a little flip in your chest.

This moment. . .

His foot let off the brake when the light turned green, pulling his eyes away from yours. The music coasting through the speakers said all the things you so desperately wanted to say. Though, Snoh sang them far more beautifully than you could ever say them yourself.

I was in the moment

I ain't really mean what I said to you

So put away your pride, baby

We can work it out if you want this, too

You hoped on every star in the winter sky that Jake was listening to the words, somehow feeling them as deeply as you were.

But if I could stay, I’d stay with you. . .

Your phone ringing snapped you out of your reverie and when you looked down to see who it was, you were not expecting the contact you saw.

The OB office.

Your heart started speeding up in your chest again, breath catching and nerves wracking your system at the most inopportune time. As you turned down the song to talk to the person on the other end, you contemplated why they were calling. . .

The appointment had already been rescheduled. . . So what else could be needed? Was something wrong?

You felt Jake’s palm splay across your thigh, fingers giving light, pulsing grips to the muscle through the fabric of your leggings. Skin heating at his touch, you looked up and over at him.

“Who?” He whispered, quietly as he could.

“OBGYN,” you mouthed back, clicking the green button to answer at the same time that he raised a brow in confusion.

“Hello?” You spoke into the phone, trying to keep your voice even-toned for whoever called you.

“Miss y/n?” Dr. Rose responded. Her Southern accent, friendly, on the other end, sounding happy as a lark.

Hearing her sound okay helped your nerves ease up – weren’t quite as frayed as they had been to begin with. Jake’s hand was still on your leg, offering reassurance. But while his touch did comfort you, it also made your heart rate speed up and head swim for another reason entirely.

Thankfully, considering the baby, your heart was slowing down. . . If Dr. Rose sounded fine, then surely things were fine, right?

“Hi, Dr. Rose,” you said, voice perking up just the slightest bit. Looking out the windshield, you focused on the pretty colors in the sky. All light pinks, oranges, and the prettiest periwinkle thanks to the winter evening’s premature setting sun. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, more than, Sweet Cakes! Just checkin’ in to see that Friday still works for ya,” she explained, her drawl not quite as thick the more she spoke. But it was still there and it made you feel warm inside for some reason.

Admittedly, you knew it was partially due to the fact that she seemed to only be calling to confirm your appointment. According to Dr. Rose, everything was ‘more than’ alright. . . you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Yeah. It works for me,” you sighed, running a nervous hand through your hair, knee still bouncing with the unexpectedness of the phone call. “Let me check with Jake real quick. I’m with him right now,” you held your hand over the speaker, looking over to your handsome driver. He’d just made it onto a highway, but momentarily glanced down at you. You hushed your next question, not wanting to disturb Dr. Rose. “Does Friday still work for you? For the week 17 appointment?”

Jake’s face opened up at the question, his eyes brightening with a smile that lifted the corner of his mouth. “Of course,” he quietly responded. “I have the whole day blocked off just for that.”

Your stomach did somersaults at him being so excited for the appointment, but you still dipped your eyebrows in at him. “You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered back. “Take the whole day for it.”

Jake shook his head, and with a dimple in his cheek, he just looked back at the road. Didn’t even acknowledge what you said any further.

You closed your eyes, a small smile on your lips at his desire to be fully available – it gave you butterflies. Back to the phone call at hand, you faced the windshield again to continue the call with your OB. “Dr. Rose?”

“Yes ma’am,” she excitedly greeted back.

“It still works for us,” you said, the smile not fading from your lips. Us. You really, really loved the sound of that word coming off your tongue. “Are you sure you’re still okay doing the appointment before week 18? I know how you feel about all of that. . .”

You didn’t know why you were asking – shouldn’t have even said anything. The idea of putting it off any longer was not what you wanted, and you didn’t want to make Dr. Rose think you’d be okay with that. But, it was too late now. You’d already asked.

“Oh, yes, babygirl. I’m the one that made ya wait past week 16! I felt bad, but I didn’t want ya to have any lull period,” she boomed on the other end, sounding so genuinely kind-hearted. It made your heart feel so full. “Completely fine with me – why I offered it to ya! I gotta admit, I’m a little excited to be findin’ out the gender a week earlier than normal. Ya know I never do that for my girls, but you’ve just seemed very special to me since the day you walked in. You’re a good seed in a bag ‘a bad ones, sweetie pie. So, I just had to make an exception.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Rose,” you gushed, a tear coming to the corner of your eye at her sentiment.

“I knew it would drive ya nuts havin’ to wait.”

“It would have,” you giggled, agreeing with a sniff to attempt to rid yourself of the tear.

She laughed heartily on the other end. “You have a beautifully passionate heart, little miss y/n,” she remarked. “You’re goin’ to be a wonderful mama for it.”

Aaand, there was no stopping the tear as it turned into a couple more, drifting down your cheek.

Jake must have looked over at the perfect time, because as soon as the tears fell, he was squeezing your thigh once more. His hand had never left your body.

But, you really needed him to stop holding you and caring because you were going to pounce on him. No questions asked. . .especially with the fluffy headspace you were in.

Emotional over a phone call or not, your body reacted to him in ways you couldn’t stop.

“How’s your heart?” Dr. Rose was in your ear again, bringing you back. She was in no rush whatsoever. You were shocked that she seemed to want to keep the conversation going. Even after the first question, she continued with another. “I know ya filled me in on it a little bit last week on the phone, but any more updates?”

“Doing alright, I think,” you responded, sniffling at her eagerness to stay updated on your wellbeing. Was she just being a good doctor? Probably. But, still. It meant a lot to you. “I will send my monitor in on the 17th. I’m so ready to be done with it,” you replied with a huff of a laugh, looking down to mess with a loose string on your oversized jacket. “And I think everything else has gotten much better since that ER visit, too. Just keeping an eye on things,” you finished, happy to explain everything to her.

This phone call was officially a highlight to your day now that you knew there was no reason to stress over it. Dr. Rose just made you feel good. You really enjoyed talking to the older Southern woman. Her heart shone through her personality. And, whether she made these efforts for all patients or not (you were sure she did), it just meant the world to you that she seemed to be so thoughtful.

She seemed to take very seriously that it was a vulnerable time in any woman’s life. Dr. Rose just seemed to do very well at her job. You were grateful for her.

“When Mount Sinai sent over that information all those weeks ago, I gotta be honest, it stressed me for ya for a bit,” she said, voice suddenly thick with a sort of concerned emotion. Not worried anymore, you could tell that much. But, it was obvious she had been troubled by it when it initially happened, from the way she sounded now.

“Although, when I read all of their tests on my end, I knew you’d be okay. Just a bump in the road, sweetie – it happens. You will be just fine!” She reassured you in her twang, the words made your head clear in a way you’d needed since the night at the hospital. “And, that sweet baby was doing so great still, in spite of it all. You’ve got a strong one, mama.”

Yeah, there was no stopping the onslaught of tears at those words. Your baby was strong. You were so proud.

“Yeah?” You sniffed. “You think so?”

“I know so. That little one was movin’ and groovin’ already that first day. . . that sure doesn’t happen with every baby! He or she is very special – just like their mama,” she emphasized, sniffling on her own end of the phone. “Well. . . . as long as this Friday still works for you, I think I can let ya go, honey bun.”

“Yes, it does,” you confirmed once more, pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and patting your cheeks with it. “Thank you again.”

“No need to thank me, Sweet Cakes.” You could hear her smile through the phone, imagined her lips covered in the prettiest bright red matte lipstick. “You have a good nigh– oh! Before ya go. . . .”

“Yes?” you questioned curiously, eyebrow raising with a little grin on your lips.

“You mentioned a Jake earlier. Does this Jake happen to be the baby’s daddy?”

You blushed, looking over at him. He glanced over at you at the same time, an eyebrow raising when you caught his eye. Your cheeks heated even more when you looked into his eyes. Your baby’s daddy.

“He is the baby’s daddy, yeah,” you explained, continuing to watch him as you said the words. He had to keep his eye on the road, but you saw how his lips stretched, the smile showing his pride at the title.

“And he will be comin’?”

“He will be there,” you affirmed, your heart racing in your chest at the idea of him being there with you. It had you equal parts jittery and utterly overjoyed to have him be present at the appointments.

“Wonderful. Sounds like a good daddy already,” she gushed from her end of the phone.

And when he came to the next light, much nearer to the complex, you watched him and waited until he looked over at you. When his eyes found yours, glowing amber-brown in the nearly-set sun, your heart squeezed inexplicably in your chest.

“He is a really good daddy,” you answered, tears threatening to clog your throat.

After you said the words, you watched his eyes become wet with an unnamed emotion. A wide, slightly shaky grin on his pretty lips. With the addition of a pink blush in his cheeks, you wanted to be able to read the exact way he was feeling.

But. . . at the current moment he suddenly seemed impossible to read. There was something behind his eyes that seemed so familiar and so hazy all at once. . .

Or maybe you were just really, really tired.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I don’t have to go to this tonight,” Jake offered, pulling into the complex.

You raised a brow, looking at him. As much as you wanted him to stay with you after today’s session, you knew that sleep was the first priority. He’d end up sitting around most of the night anyway.

If things were different, you would ask him to lay down with you. You’d keep him close. But. . . That wasn’t how things were for the two of you.

You needed a nap and he needed to be with his girlfriend. As much as it sucked, she took priority over you. He wasn’t yours.

You already felt selfish enough for taking his entire early evening away from him. You didn’t want to steal any more of his night.

“No, Jake,” you giggled, trying your best to play off the want to have him near. “I’m good. You’ve done everything you can for me tonight. Don’t need you for anything else — you’re free.”

It was silent for a little bit as Jake found his parking space. You were too tired to keep any sort of conversation going, preparing to doze against the window as he went to back into his space.

Though, when he placed his hand on the headrest behind you to back in, you couldn’t help but turn to glance up at him.

The way he held his bottom lip between his teeth as he focused on situating the Jeep into the parking space, just right. . . You felt guarded and protected by the placement of his arm above you. It made your tummy flip.

And the mustache that kept making a reappearance on his pretty face, accentuating his plush lips perfectly. . .

You licked your lips as you watched him, your eyes lazy as you let your stare wander down his body . . .

But before you could get too far, Jake’s deep, raspy tone broke through to you.

“Hey.”

Fuck. Your tiredness was quickly becoming enemy number one, exposing you.

Quickly, you flicked your eyes up to him, swallowing thickly, awaiting him with vulnerability clear on your features.

For some reason, you expected to see him grinning at you being caught. But his features were unwaveringly straight, studying your face with his eyebrows drawn in concentration.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes soon finding yours to pierce through. Damn, you felt naked under his stare. No two ways about it.

Your eyes sunk into his, wishing you were naked—.

“You’ve had a long day and I want to be available—.”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off, needing to get out of the car before you made a stupid move. You just needed rest; your tiredness was making you weak.

“Please. Go have fun,” you encouraged further, looking down to observe your nails, desperate to be repainted. Shaking your head, you continued to solidify your point. “You’ve done enough for me. You have a girlfriend who’s expecting you to be with her tonight.”

And if you stay here tonight, there’s no telling what I’ll try to do with you. . .

“‘Kay,” he responded. At his short tone, your eyes floated up to check on him. You watched as he quickly grabbed his keys out of the ignition, refusing to look at you until the last second. “I’ve gotta get going pretty soon then.”

“Yeah,” you breathed with a shake of your head, unsure of what else to say. And before he could get your door for you, you were doing it yourself — didn’t want to get in his way.

Whatever this conversation had become, it was far too much for your brain to wrap around at this moment.

You needed fucking sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

After you’d filled your Stanley and sat it on your bedside table, your next mission was to change into looser, cozier clothes. You stripped your pants and bra, and found a giant t-shirt. And your softest fuzzy socks had been a last minute must have before finding your bed.

Finally.

Almost as soon as you landed on your bed, your eyes were fluttering closed. The softness of your sheets and duvet, the cleanliness and the comfort of your bed was too incredible for you to resist sleep for long.

At the same time, Jake was getting ready for his time with Maya, and had apparently decided to shower. When the steady stream of water sounded through the wall, you relaxed even further. You focused on the soothing sound of the shower running and imagined how near he was to you.

He hadn’t left you yet.

Admittedly, putting your mind on Jake going about his business made you feel quite at home.

And that thought had been the seemingly final step to finding rest, sleep finding you quite easily with easy thoughts of your handsome roommate.

-🌼🌼🌼-

But, to your disdain, the nap didn’t last as long as you’d hoped.

After only a couple of hours, you’d woken up and couldn’t go back to sleep to get any more rest. You tried to fall asleep again. It was all you’d wanted after your emotionally exhausting day.

The longer you laid in your bed and tried to find more sleep, you realized it was just not going to happen. The small apartment felt too big and empty and your mind raced with the scene you’d witnessed during EMDR.

To your demise, the little wooden box had somehow cracked open a little while you slept. You figured it was because you’d dreamt of what you’d seen in therapy. Your subconscious was working without your complete consent.

That man with the thick fingers and clenched fists. . . He’d come floating out of the box first as you laid underneath your fluffy, white, clean bed covers. . .

Mr. Morgan. . . Who was he? You could not place his role in it all yet. . . While you were able to remember him and his living room now, that was about where it stopped.

The smell of him had stuck with you most since the memory. The potentness of his body odor in your subconscious had been a severe trigger – a trigger to things you weren’t capable of remembering yet.

But, you knew that whenever those things did get conjured up again, you wouldn’t be ready. You just knew. The feeling alone that came associated with him and seeing him again. . . made you feel grimy – made your skin crawl like bugs were living underneath your flesh.

Then there was your mother. You hadn’t been able to recall the distinct features of her face for years. Your grandparents didn’t have pictures of her up in their home – only ones of you and Elsie through the years. It was like she hadn’t ever existed.

But today? Today she was back. Full force. You felt her. You smelled her. You saw every. single. feature.

The stringiness of your mom’s hair when she’d been with the man in the recollected vision. . .

You couldn’t help but compare the hair in the vision to the fullness of it in small memories you cherished. . . There was a certain Christmas memory you kept close, her sweater had been brand new. Her hair, naturally brown and billowing out beautifully behind her. You had a few of those moments in time. A few decent memories you’d never let go completely away. No matter how much time passed or how foggy they became, you held onto them.

What struck you as disheartening was the way the woman transitioned from one version of herself to another in the fragments of time you could grasp. You remembered, it was rare to consistently witness the same mom growing up. You’d been forced at a young age to confront the fact that you never truly knew the woman that gave birth to you.

She’d been very dirty more times than not, you could remember that much now. From what you were beginning to recall, she rarely smelled good. Showers hadn’t seemed to be her forte from the grease that had been constantly caked in her hair if she wasn’t with your grandparents. Her skin had even been oily from her lack of showers, just as greasy as her hair.

The houses she had you living in, too. . . you could vaguely picture a few of those (besides Mr. Morgan’s). The one you were in within your recollected memory today had been so filthy. The grossness of the environment was coming to you in small bits. There’d been times you’d seen families of cockroaches climb into the pantry. . . Or when an occasional rat would scurry across the stained carpet, right past your feet. . .

You shivered in your bed at the thought, toes wiggling against your soft socks and covers. The loose sheet and duvet came closer to your chin as you tried to completely envelop yourself in your current reality. Things were safe.

It was just a-fucking-lot to process alone. And the last thing you wanted to do was burden anyone else with it. So, even if Jake had stayed with you rather than Maya after therapy, you knew you’d still be swirling in circles in your mind.

You were just glad you only had to wait a week for therapy to continue digging through this with the help of your therapist.

The images of the man and your mother kept flip-flopping in your mind, not leaving you alone — each taking turns in mocking your peace. It was enough that you felt your breath become choppy and your heart begin to race in your chest. Your clammy hands were clenching and unclenching over and over again, trying to find some sort of relief and distraction from the thoughts. The smells were coming back to you, vivid as they’d been during your therapy today. . .

And the moment you began to hear that distant, haunting chuckle from your past, embedded in the new flashes of memory, you shut your eyes. You squeezed your lids together so tightly. Your fists came to cover your eyes, pushing down on them just a little to see stars alongside the black.

Yet, the sound continued to get closer and closer to you. Desperately, you thought back on Gia’s advice should this happen.

One of the small pieces of advice she’d given you, when the session’s time was five-minutes passed.

“Now, if these things come back or more memories come to you and you would rather not think of them in the moment they do: take a break,” Gia had advised, going to hold your hands in hers between the two of you. “Take a break, wherever you are, and go to your safe place.”

She’d given you a couple of other things to try, but she’d stayed insistent that you try the safe place first. Every time. Get used to the place, make it a habit to run to it in these times.

So, you tried your damnedest to shut the thoughts out like you would on her soft, camel leather couch. Your eyes closed as you tried, working to focus on the idea of traveling to a field of lavender and Jake.

Though before you could get any further, your eyes snapped open, knowing you had one more step before you went there.

You tried to even your breathing, unclenching your fists. Once you’d relaxed enough to loosen your hands, you searched for some meditation music on Spotify.

And once you’d found a dreamy playlist, you laid back to feel it. Your goal: feel it enough to let go.

This time when you closed your eyes, you did it with less force and breathed in and out, in and out. Once again, everything was black. . . but just for the first minute or so.

It didn’t take long for you to hear the birds chirping and to feel the solid chest breathing beneath you. He breathed deeply – in and out, in and out, just as you did.

Almost as soon as you felt your body settle into him and the soft ground of the earth, you heard him speak, too. It was like you were hearing him through a rush of warm wind, a breeze drifting across your face. “You’re doing great, baby,” he soothed you in his velvety tone, running a sure hand through your hair, fingers tracing your scalp. You shivered, enjoying the wonderful feeling it gave you, all the way to the tips of your toes. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Further, you pushed into him, wanting to be as close to him as you could be. You wrapped your arms around him the best you could while laying down, needing to feel his body tightly against your own. When you did this, he wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you into him. Your round belly, pressed between the two of you, made your heart settle into a soothing thrum in your chest.

No other words were said as you laid there, the sky blue when you finally opened your eyes to the new place. The field of lavender, so lucious and smelling heavenly around you. The purple flower surrounding you smelled clean, peaceful, and a lot like. . . love. It was a strange idea that a flower would smell like love, but you’d come to associate it with someone who–.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Your eyes opened at a moment’s notice when you heard a knock on the front door. Somehow, the sound against the door managed to break you from your hypnotic-like reverie. The knocks weren’t small or soft thuds by any means, but it was odd that you’d heard them all the way through to your sacred place. All the way through your bedroom door. . .

Though, thankfully, after having a bit of time to visit the safest place your mind could conjure up, you were on the path to feeling fine again. So after laying in bed for a few more seconds, you got up and padded to the door in your fluffy socks.

Before you opened the door, you peeked through the peephole.

When you did, your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. Your breathing evened out significantly for the first time since waking from your nap. And without any hesitancy, you unlatched the chain and unlocked the knob and deadbolt.

As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted by Jake, a very apologetic smile on his face. One of his hands covered his eyes in feigned embarrassment, making a slit in his fingers to look at you through them. His other hand was tucked in the front pocket of his black slacks.

He’d changed clothes after dropping you off.

Duh, he’d showered, y/n. He wouldn’t be wearing the same dirty clothes afterwards . . .

He was now dressed very nicely, his hair looking so healthy and full. A few strands were still damp here and there, from the shower you’d heard him start as you’d fallen asleep for your nap.

And goddamn. He smelled so fucking delicious – you could’ve melted into him.

Rather than focusing on the way the hints of sandalwood and vanilla in his cologne made you feel airy, you asked the question you couldn’t help but wonder. “Where is your key?”

A hint of a laugh was present in your tone as you crossed your arms over your boobs – which you noticed were slightly less sore than normal.

Pleasant surprise.

Oh, fuck. Your boobs. No bra. Only wearing a giant t-shirt and fuzzy socks. The thong you were wearing was a poor excuse at covering your ass.

Glancing down briefly, you were reassured by the length. It was long enough to fully cover your backside, went down your thighs a bit. . . but you still felt very bare.

When you looked up, you found that Jake had noticed your lack of clothing at the same time as you. His stare burned through your t-shirt, all the way down to your blushing skin. Your chest was heaving of its own accord, nipples hardening at the attention from him. . .

His gaze soon dropped down to your lips, his own parting as his tongue went to wet his mouth.

No. You had to be the responsible one here. You could do it.

So, you forced a subtle short cough, toes wiggling in your fuzzy socks. And, thankfully, it brought him back to the current situation.

His wide, brown eyes snapped to yours, staying there momentarily. It made your cheeks pink — the way he was unashamedly sharing this moment with you. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all as he bit his lip with a grin stretched over his lips.

Fuck.

“Your key?” You tried again with a squeak. Rolling your eyes, your short cough was real this time as you had to clear your throat. Ridiculous.

Not saying anything, he responded like nothing had occurred before. He motioned with his head towards the kitchen bar behind you. Your head turned to follow his eyes. And, you found his keys, still laying on the counter, not having been touched since before he left.

“Did Maya pick you up?” You asked him, arching a brow at the keys.

“Yes.”

“How’d you get back?” Okay, y/n, now’s not the time for twenty questions.

“Uber,” he simply answered, a little hiccup following the word.

“Well. . . did you come back for them to drive yourself?” You asked, turning back around to face him, hoping he wouldn’t say ‘yes’. You selfishly wanted him to stay.

For the first time since you’d woken up, your body felt light. . . . And, you’d noticed it had happened the exact moment you saw him outside your door.

Shaking his head, he finally looked at you head-on, and you could see his eyes were the slightest bit unfocused.

Oh. . . A smirk rested on your lips as you crossed your arms once more.

He had a goofy, carefree smile on his lips. And then you smelled it — the slightest tinge of alcohol on him as he swayed a bit towards you.

Raising a brow, your lips continued to match his grin. Giggling, you pondered aloud, “Did you have a drink or two, babe?”

You didn’t say that last word. Nope.

“Maaaaybe,” he said, shrugging with both hands in his pockets now, the silly smile still plastered to his lips. “It was a party, after all,” he tagged on to the end, a bit of a British lilt falling over his words.

A party. Hm. For some reason, you hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility. Why did the fact that it’d been a party make your stomach turn a little bit?

“A party?” You inquired, tucking your arms a little closer against your chest. And there was the tenderness again.

“Maya’s baby sister— eight years younger than Maya,” he over-explained, tripping over himself a little as he made his way through the door without any warning. “Turned twenty one today.”

Oh, that explains the excessive drinking, you gathered mentally.

But, as you stood there connecting the dots, you didn’t focus enough on the fact that he was falling into you through the door frame. Thankfully, you put your arms out in time to stop him from bumping into you to the point of knocking you over. But when you put your arms out to stop his fall, he got the wrong idea and put his arms out as well, crashing into you a bit as he wrapped them around you in a secure embrace.

It took a bit for you to register what was happening as you stood in shock at the gentle gesture amidst his drunkenness. And while you were registering it all, he must’ve gotten the idea that you didn’t want him so close to you. So, very slowly, he pulled away.

Rather awkwardly, you just stood there, arms still held out in shock from the sudden hug.

Why were you surprised at all? He’d been like this recently – just today at counseling, he’d been extremely attentive, holding you when you’d needed him. . .

Was this time different? Was it because now he was doing it for virtually no reason at all? You weren’t in need of his help or his comfort (that he knew of) at the moment. And, he still wanted to hug you – that was what caught you completely off guard.

He’s drunk, y/n, a voice reminded you. Don’t overthink it. It’s just because he’s inebriated.

And while you stood in the doorway, he continued to traipse past you, body lopsided and shaky. He was being very careful to not bump into you again, turning his body in odd ways.

When you turned to observe him, as he made it past you, you noticed that in the process of trying to steer clear of you, he was losing his balance – quite quickly.

So, you did the only thing you could think to do and followed behind him to help however you could.

He wouldn’t remember it anyway.

When he started putting too much weight on one foot and started tilting a bit too far to the side, you acted on instinct.

You wrapped your arms around his midsection.

It proved to be a bit of a feat to keep him upright and on his feet, but you tried your hardest. The man was wonderfully built. . . but solid as a rock.

Has he been working out? You couldn’t help but wonder this as your arms pressed a bit more into his strong abdomen.

You realized that thought process could become a distraction to the task at hand in no time, so you put it to the back of your mind. Instead, you just put all of your concentration into helping him stay on the track he desired. . . . Which happened to be his bedroom.

While trying to keep him stable, you felt your belly press further into his back. The baby felt safer there, between the two of you. It felt right to be so close. . .

But, again, you focused on the important goal of getting Jake in bed. You just kept him pressed to you the best you could with a baby in the way. Matching his footing from behind, you walked in even step with him.

Once you were officially at his door, you reached around him to open his door for him. When your hand met the knob and twisted it, he reached forward, placing his hand over yours to open it with you. The gentle action made your skin flame.

Though, it didn’t last long. You didn’t pause, instead continuing into the room. And the moment you walked into the room, he tapped your arm, presumably to let you know he was okay on his own. So, you tentatively let go.

Your arms suddenly felt empty, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome.

He seemed to be a little better now, sitting down on his bed. He did it with more effort than normally necessary, but he still seemed more capable than he’d been a few minutes ago.

So, without a word, you went to head out of his room. Right before you could walk out the door, though, you heard him from behind you.

“Where you going?” He asked sadly, sounding more like a neglected child than a grown man.

Turning around with a brow raised, you asked the question with your eyes before saying it aloud. “Why? You’re good now, right?”

His eyes zoned out momentarily on your face. You just blamed it on the alcohol, feeling woozy. When he came back to Earth, his eyes met yours. His eyes suddenly seemed much clearer than before. All of the air in your lungs evaporated at the look he was giving you. Desperation was the most fitting word for it.

“I’m not good without you,” he offered, his eyes darting to his feet almost directly after saying the words. He leaned down to sloppily take off his boots, but still neatly placed them next to his bed after taking them off.

It was honestly pretty funny to watch. You would’ve been more amused if your mind wasn’t still reeling a bit from his words. You zoned out on his guitar, placed neatly on its stand.

He. is. drunk, y/n, your internal heckler reminded you. Stop overthinking.

But. . . drunk words are honest –.

“Can you help?” Jake asked, sounding desperate while trying to achieve a task.

You looked over at him, finding him standing now and struggling to take off a necklace. Without argument, you left where you’d been standing, dejected and confused, by the doorway, to help him.

When you made it over to him, you tapped his hands where they struggled with the latch at the nape of his neck.

“Let me,” you insisted, replacing his hands with yours when he moved them.

Once the necklace was taken off, you made your way around him to place the jewelry on his bedside table, whose lamp bathed the room in golden light.

You glanced down at the necklace, running a finger down the face of the medallion. Medusa. That was who was etched into the gold metal.

“You into Greek mythology right now?” You questioned, peeking over your shoulder at him.

When you did, the sight that beheld you took you by total surprise. Shirtless. Shirt gone. No shirt. Jake, halfway naked.

“Oh,” you uttered the word in a moan more than anything else. You even felt your jaw drop the slightest bit. You didn’t really think anything of it. You didn’t really care to control your reactions. He wouldn’t remember any of this. You just kept telling yourself that.

And with the way the heat flooded from your head all the way to your chest, blossoming to the pit of your tummy – you didn’t think you could control your reactions. Then, when he absentmindedly adjusted himself in his pants. . . Yep.

You bit your lip, tucking hair behind your ear. Suddenly, you felt completely out of control of your body. . . Your hormones were calling the shots – they (and Jake) were making you feel unsteady in the best possible way.

The only downside was: there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Morals stood in the way of your bodies colliding and fucking it out.

You understood that the Jeep incident had happened. Of-fucking-course — there was no forgetting that shit. But a big part of you also thought it would be best to leave the other night in the Jeep in the past.

It wasn’t fair to anyone involved. Right?

So. . . You just focused on the present moment. No sex. Just Jake in front of you. Tried to ignore the surge of want for him at seeing half of him bare.

But goddamn — what a beautifully welcome sight. . .

His body had changed in the handsomest of ways. His thighs, as you’d noticed recently, were thicker than before. And he was. . . just broader than before. It started at the width of his shoulders, and worked down his abdomen to fill out with toned, tight muscle — his new addition of muscle was thick beneath the surface. There was just more of him altogether. The perfect amount of body for you to touch, kiss, lick. . . . . goddammit.

He still wasn’t looking at you, instead making his way to the laundry hamper across the room. You observed the way the muscle in his back flexed as he walked. The expanse of skin under his shoulder blades — his back was thick with new strength. . .What in the sweet hell?

When he carefully swiveled on his heel to make his way back to you, after tossing the shirt in the basket, you still didn’t take your eyes from him. Just admired the sight and the fact that watching him could be your own little secret. . .

A secret not even for Jake to know.

Though, as if on cue, his line of sight connected with yours. And when it did – damn. Your heart hammered hard in your chest. Your breath was trapped in your throat, all of it stolen from you.

His chocolate eyes, although hazy from alcohol, were so fucking dark. Dark in the same way they’d been in his Jeep last week.

He looked the same as he had right before you’d bent over his lap. The same way he’d eyed you as you’d been on top of him – licking him, sucking him, touching him. . .

So, instead of holding his eyes, you decided you had to look away before you made matters any worse than they were at the present moment.

Awkwardly, you started your next sentence without taking time to think about it. “You good now, Ja–?”

“What was your question?”

When he interrupted you, you wanted to look back at him. But you didn’t. Not with the way his voice was suddenly much fuller – deeper, raspier. . .

Coughing to mask any sort of embarrassing action, you tried your best to think back to what you’d asked. You couldn’t even remember. . . oh. Medusa. Pointless question. Didn’t matter.

“It was noth–.”

“I don’t care. Still wanna know.”

“Jake, it seriously doesn’t matt–.”

“Look at me, y/n,” he demanded, daring to be argued with. “Quit acting like we’re strangers.”

God. Your teeth found your lip, biting harder with a deep inhale. You let the plumpness of your bottom lip fall from your teeth with a tight exhale. Your tongue pressed into your cheek, eyebrows knit with frustration, when you peered up at him.

Fuck it all. This was why you hadn’t let yourself look at him.

His hungry eyes scanned your body when he got his way. He stood there admiring all of you, but his eyes were zeroed in on your ass, not leaving it.

You looked down to get an idea of what he was looking at.

And, to your horror, you noticed that the t-shirt had ridden up, completely exposing the bottom curve of your ass cheeks.

But, you didn’t move to change it. Instead, you decided to just stand there. Let him look. You wanted him to. This wouldn’t even count in the morning when he forgot it all.

You definitely weren’t offended by his staring. Not in the slightest. Just sort of made you nervous where things would lead if he didn’t stop observing the exposed skin.

Diversion.

“Jake,” you purposefully spoke his name, vying for his attention up top, rather than having his eyes on your ass.

You got your wish. Sort of. His eyes dragged from your ass to your thighs. . . Only to stop at your tits. Your skin was flushed and your skin was tingling. Your breasts, heavy under his stare and nipples tightly peaked against your oversized shirt.

Fuck. Your body really was your worst enemy — constantly gave you away. Pregnancy hormones were a pain in the ass.

So, you did the only thing you could think to do: you watched him watch you. The idea of his eyes burning into you without the ability to control it. . . It was almost too much for you to handle.

Then, he wet his lips, afterwards biting into his plump bottom lip. You might as well have been naked under his stare, completely at his mercy.

His gaze stayed consistent on your chest, residing long enough to have you feeling so desperately needy for him. . . but, eventually, his eyes moved up to your face.

You missed his stare on your body as soon as it was gone.

“You’re so fucking—goddamn,” he breathed, his expression still dazed. But, now it was from more than alcohol. Maybe not from alcohol at all. “Do you know how good you look carrying my baby?”

Your head became a flurried mess at his words, the feeling carrying all the way down to your toes.

“Jake,” you tried, not sure what else to say besides his name.

But he didn’t respond with words. No, all he did was walk closer to you, still half-dressed. Seeing so much of his body made you feel so utterly pathetic for him.

In a split second, before you could even wrap your mind around it, his hands found your waist. A soft, yet firm hold of your body. His eyes were locked on your parted lips, his face slowly leaning in and coming dangerously close to your own.

And just as he was with you, your eyes found his lips, plush and wet from his tongue gliding over them. So kissable. All you wanted, all you needed, was to feel them collide with yours. To taste him again, to savor the sweetness that you knew to be Jake.

He was so close that you could smell the bitter remnants of alcohol on his breath. His breath, that felt so warm against your flushed skin. You couldn’t help it as you slowly let yourself lean into him. All too well, you knew how wrong it was. . . Yet, you were having the worst time finding it within yourself to care any longer.

Amber-brown eyes flicked up to yours, golden flecks glowing from the dim yellow lamp lighting. Your own eyes were wide under your fluttering lashes.

The drunkenness wasn’t as prevalent in his stare as it had been before. This felt so eerily intimate — like it had happened before. You couldn’t fucking shake the feeling this moment was giving you. The dim lighting. Him so close to you—tempting you. . .

For some reason, your eyes fluttered down between the two of you to your small, rounded tummy.

Jake’s lips brushed your forehead with the action, his hand coming to tuck hair behind your ear.

Your belly—it was nestled so well in the middle of your bodies, brushing up against his firm stomach. Protected.

And then a memory, clear now, came rushing back to you. It was coming out of the shadows, having been foggy and faded, but not anymore.

The only place to go was your room, your door ajar just enough that it opened easily on its own. Jake had reached a hand behind him to close it gently– not wanting to wake anyone.

Your lamp, still left on, just as it had been earlier in the evening, shed the perfect amount of golden glow.

You’d grabbed his face, pulling him away from you momentarily to appreciate his features. Finally out of the dark you could look at him.

And, God, you loved his face. Everything about it, having been so intricately and delicately created — making the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on.

A quiet smirk had graced Jake’s perfect lips, his eyes tightly locked with yours.

“What’s the matter?” He’d asked, his hushed, now-sultry voice making your need for him that much more heightened.

You thought a moment before you answered.

With all of your feelings for him finally becoming realized in your own mind, there was just so much you felt you needed to say. So much you needed him to know.

As you’d stared in his sparkling eyes, pupils pure black from the weed and his need for you, the only word your mind could conjure up was love. Over and over again. Not just the word, but the feeling; the new desire for him that went far beyond the purely physical one that you’d tried so hard to convince yourself of.

But it wasn’t new; it had been clear all along. You’d just shoved it down to the deepest trenches of your mind, only to be discovered by the most skilled explorer.

There was so much you had wanted to say, but you just couldn’t conjure the proper words.

You decided your body could do all the talking. It could say more than your voice ever could.

“Nothing,” you’d whispered against his lips as you pulled him in for the deepest kiss you were certain the two of you had ever shared with one another.

You gasped as you looked up at him. The night you’d conceived—.

“Y/n, sweet girl,” Jake’s smoky voice brought your attention back to the situation. You let your body melt into his even more, needing him near.

The reality of it all suddenly began to set in when his hands, slow and steady in their pace, moved up your waist. Strong hands now moving under your shirt, set in their direction of ascension. They came to a steady stop just beneath the curve of your tender breasts.

“You know,” he breathed, breath washing over your lips. You blinked up at him, at his mercy. “I wanna do so much more than just hold your pretty tits,” he whispered, his lips brushing ever so lightly against yours. “How do they feel?”

“H-heavy,” you stuttered, shivering against his touch while his thumbs met at your sternum, tracing delicate patterns.

His palms suddenly dropped from beneath your shirt. You sucked in a breath, whining as your breasts pushed out for more. Your skin begged for his touch, on fire for him.

Before long, though, his hands came back to their spot over the fabric of the t-shirt this time.

And, over your shirt, he cupped as much of your chest as he could, keeping you in his hold as he gently massaged.

Stars. You saw so many stars.

“But, not—not as sore tonight,” you sighed, settling into his grasp. There were no worries evident to you right now.

All that mattered was Jake and his searing hot touch.

You felt him smile as close as he was, his lips almost connecting with yours as you fought back every desire to kiss him. “Yeah?” He whispered again, raspier, while his thumbs lightly grazed your hardened nipples through your shirt, your breath catching in your throat. “What do you need right now, baby?”

The moan that escaped your lips should have been embarrassing. But it wasn’t. Not at all. It fit quite well with the way his fingers continued in their path over your nipples, circling them. He was stealing every bit of air left in your lungs, making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Tell me, baby,” he growled, lips touching yours with each word.

Closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip, you answered silently. You, Jake. I fucking need you.

He returned to his grip underneath your breasts, over the shirt still, cradling them so well. . . Your body just fit with his. The touch of his hands cured even the most uncomfortable changes in your body.

You whined, not able to help the effect he was having on you and your aching body. “Jake, I need–.” Fuck.

No. This was wrong. He was drunk. Odds were, he wouldn’t remember this. You were the one letting it happen, letting it get much further than it should have.

“Tell me, y/n,” he repeated, brushing his thumbs once again over your taut nipples with more intent this time as your body began to tremble. “Tell me what I can do for you–.”

“I’m hungry,” you muttered out of nowhere, shaking your head as you effectively interrupted him. You pulled away, getting yourself out of another situation that could turn sticky real fast. (Yes, pun intended.)

And you really were very hungry. Hadn’t eaten for hours. So, it was the perfect mood killer.

“O-oh, yeah,” he breathily spoke, eyebrows dipping in just a bit as he dropped his stare. His long hair waved out around his shoulders when he shook his head. The sound of inebriated haziness was evident in his tone still, but you could tell he was quickly coming back to himself.

And that also terrified you. The moment just now. . . Had that brought him back? You’d seen his eyes brighten when you’d leaned into him.

He went to move past you, his body nearly meeting yours. You put out a hand, millimeters away from his heaving chest. But you couldn’t touch him yet. Not yet. Had to clear your mind.

“Want me to make something for you?” He wondered, sounding ready to help even amidst his tipsy state.

“I can do it,” you assured him with a small sigh and grin. “I’m capable.”

“You sure?”

“More than.”

Your eyes held one another’s for a heavy minute. He was trying to make sure you were being honest, you could tell.

You just encouraged him to believe your statement with a little pat to his warm, bare chest. Shit.

You had to go. Get out of the room. Make some damn food.

But he was right there. . .

No.

You quickly took your hand away before he could do something like hold it there. He didn’t get the chance, thanks to your reflexes.

Your hands interlocked under your belly as you peeked up at him through your lashes. “I promise. I do things for myself all the time. Please let me.”

“You don’t have to ask for–,” hiccup, the sobriety still not fully present. He held a fist over his mouth, trying to be polite. Your smile met your eyes, so gone for him. . . “For my permission, y/n. Seriously. I just want to help you however I–,” hiccup, his eyes bugged a little. The giggle that came from you couldn’t be stopped. “ I can. Jesus.”

“Go to sleep,” you tried, wracking your brain for the best possible plan for him to feel better. “I’ll be okay.”

“Nah. Not yet. Wanna take a shower first,” he iterated, eyebrows drawn together with the sureness of his plan. “It’ll help.”

“Okay,” you smiled, inhaling a breath before shaking your head and moving to open his door.

Rather than letting you get it, he raised his arm above your head, holding the door to do the job himself. You watched as he opened it wider, seeing his bicep flex with the action above your head. He’d opened it just enough for you to exit.

You connected eyes with his, looking at him over your shoulder.

The grin that lifted your features occurred on its own. Everything he did was making you swoon. The fucker.

He snickered a bit at you, his teeth coming to show past his pretty lips. Dimples fully present with his knowing smile. “Go eat,” he motioned with his other hand before stepping towards you, planning to exit behind you. “My baby momma needs sustenance.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

About forty-five minutes passed.

You’d eaten an entire box of macaroni and cheese. The noodles and yellow-y, plastic cheese weren’t making you want to gag anymore. Thank god, because it really was quite delicious.

Now, to wash your dishes and go to bed.

You’d just heard the shower shut off about ten minutes prior to the moment you heard footsteps approach in the doorway to the kitchen.

Jake.

“Will you come sleep with me?”

You spun to give him a questioning look from over your shoulder that held a million questions.

“Wh-what?” You stilled your task of washing the bowl you’d had your quick meal of macaroni and cheese in.

But, now, you weren’t thinking of mac and cheese. No, now you were thinking of what he just said.

When you’d looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes stuck naturally on the man standing at the doorway of the kitchen. The gesture that was meant to be quick, definitely turning into a whole-ass Jake Appreciation Fest.

Just like earlier that evening, there he was. Shocking every nerve in your system.

Pajama pants, slung low on his hips. . . his handsomely tanned and toned chest, still bare. His wet hair, laying on his pecs, dripping water onto each muscle. The drops of water made their way down his hard nipples, probably chilly from his shower, down his sculpted obliques and solid abdomen. . .

. . . And down, past the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. Your favorite ones.

The pursuit you took with your line of sight was unstoppable. You had to know if he was wearing them. . . And, to your complete gladness, you saw just enough of an outline of him as he leaned his weight on one foot. . . That was all it took to know. . .

“No, I’m not wearing underwear,” he smugly remarked.

His tone and words made your heart flutter and your cheeks become the deepest shade of crimson. Fuck. He’d caught you.

Deciding to ignore his little remark, you went back to washing the dish, still being held over the sink. In a much looser grip thanks to his comment. Gripping the dish tighter, you put all of your spinning nerves into washing it properly. You fumbled a little, but hoped he didn’t notice.

“What did you mean before? About sleeping together?” You tried, working to maintain enough attention on the dish that you wouldn’t drop it against the sink and break the thin Corelle.

“Just sleep,” he emphasized with a chuckle, sounding more and more like himself the longer he stood there. “Nothing more. Cross my heart.”

“Oh,” you offered lamely, heart thumping a hundred miles an hour in your chest, boobs suddenly aching for. . . Fuck.

Why was he asking you to simply sleep with him? What the hell?

God. . .

Should you? Was it a good idea? Well, no. You could answer that. It wasn’t a good idea. At all.

But. . . should you go lay with him? Maybe fall asleep in his arms. . . Would it help you sleep easier after your short, uneasy rest from earlier in the evening?

Shit.

You knew the answer. Knew the answer very well. Even before EMDR, when the bad dreams would occur, they were always better – tamed, happy, or gone completely – when you slept in the same bed as Jake.

“Yeah,” you said, not taking any more time to contemplate. “I will.”

“Alright,” he replied, sounding relieved behind you. Why did he sound so happy? Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. He still had alcohol in his system. That explained it.

You rinsed the rest of the bubbles from the bowl when you heard him speak up again.

“Want me to wash it?”

“N-no,” you stuttered nervously and shook your head, focusing on the sudsy dish. “I’ve got it.”

“Okay. You full? Get enough to eat?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he answered, the smile evident in his tone. “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t,” you reassured, willing your pulse to return to normal.

And, seconds later, you were hearing his footfalls against the carpet as he made his way back to his room.

Well.

Finishing the job of the bowl, – taking much longer than needed – you contemplated.

You guessed his tone was still a little wavy, but you knew better than to think he was still drunk.

He definitely wasn’t.

Had the shower helped that much? Had it been the moment in his room? Both combined?

After the equally clean saucepan was put away in the drawer below the oven, you dragged your feet a bit more as you went to check on Stevie and put some more food in her dish. When her tail swished across your calves, you felt a bit of calmness return to you.

Your heart was still thrumming in your chest. But you were able to slow your thoughts down enough to feel more at peace as you took notice of yourself in your full-body mirror.

Damn. . .oooo-kay, y/n. . .

Why did you suddenly feel completely confident in your body? You turned, getting every angle.

It just felt so great to not doubt your appearance. It was just like last Monday. You could get used to this feeling.

Your boobs looked fantastic and big under your gray t-shirt, nipples peaked as they most-often were these days. Your ass looked perfectly rounded out from the way it peeked out of your soft shirt. . . And, lifting your t-shirt, you looked at the little bump of your tummy.

The best addition to the entire look. Your grin was natural as you admired your baby. . .

Your tummy was growing steadily as you still sat on the bigger side of pregnant bellies. Your bump wasn’t a little subtle thing. No, it was an obviously pregnant belly.

Small, but definitely still noticeable. And it was just cute as hell.

After rubbing a gentle hand over the expanse of skin on your belly, you pulled your shirt back down over it.

And with a final fluff of your hair, you grabbed your Stanley from the nightstand before making your way to where you’d find sleep tonight.

You were just going to get good rest for your baby. It was for the baby.

That was what you worked to convince yourself of as you walked with quiet purpose to his bedroom.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Why did you come home?”

You were laying in his bed. Just like old times.

Except, in the past, where you would’ve most likely been naked, you were not tonight.

Everything else though? Same as always.

Your legs were tied into his, looped around his just right, playing footsie with him beneath the covers. Your head rested on his bare chest, your hand underneath your cheek as it laid so perfectly well on his exquisitely strapped pecs.

Oh, also. . . One more thing different than before: the bump. The baby, tucked snugly against his side where you were turned into him.

It was heaven. That was what it was.

A yawn emitted from deep in his chest. You knew sleep was finding him faster than you would’ve liked. Naturally, a little yawn found you as well.

Sighing heavily to follow the yawn, you felt his hand that laid above you come to comb through the strands of your hair. “I don’t like being away from you.”

Your heartbeat was heavy in your ears – did your best to ignore it.

“Was Maya mad?”

“Yeah.”

“Jake,” you scolded, for no reason. You didn’t give two shits about how she felt. But. . . you did care about his happiness – didn’t want to ruin his relationship when it made him feel happy and whole.

“She’ll get over it,” he reassured with another yawn that lifted your cheek with his rising chest. “She was drunker than I was.”

“Are you still drunk?” You pondered aloud with a yawn and a giggle, naturally emitting in his presence.

But. . . you knew better. Didn’t even have to ask. It just made all of this more understandable if he were to still be drunk. It made this easier to submit to.

You didn’t know why the prospect of simply laying beside him was harder to come to terms with than having his dick in your mouth. Just like it’d been a week ago.

Your cheeks heated at the thought. Of its own volition, your thigh came to momentarily graze past his crotch.

“Not really,” he answered, sounding a touch offended that you’d even asked. “Pretty sober now, honestly.”

The more coherent he sounded, the more intimidated you became. . .

Best to let him find sleep. You’d answer to this in the morning. . . For now, your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the moment.

“I believe you,” you settled with a contented yawn of your own, nestling into his chest. Couldn’t help it. Had to be closer.

You blinked, slower and slower. So sleepy — just felt so right in his arms. His hand came to hold the base of your skull as a thumb traced your head so lightly.

Goosebumps rose on your skin from his precious gesture. . . It felt so damn incredible.

“You should,” he iterated, his lips coming to meet the crown of your head, giving you a feather-light kiss.

And, within a minute, he was lightly snoring.

It took almost no time at all for you to follow him to slumber.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Just like you would’ve guessed, the bad dreams didn’t come that night.

. . .Because Jake made everything better. That was just it.

-🌼🌼🌼-

December 16, 2022

As you sat in the waiting room, you surveyed him and noticed he wasn’t wearing the Medusa medallion. The newer one you’d noticed on Monday.

“No Medusa?” You questioned, at a decent enough volume to not disturb the few other mothers and fathers in the waiting room. He flicked his amber-brown gaze over to you, caught in a trance by the beautiful, light decor of the clinic.

Once he looked at you, his eyebrows only dipped at your words, not understanding. You motioned to his neck with a slight flick of your wrist. “Your Medusa medallion. I noticed it the other night.”

He snorted, lips quirking in a small grin with a shake of his head. “That was a stupid gift I got from Maya’s little sister,” he explained, scratching the back of his head.

“Jake,” you disciplined his words, but you couldn’t help the tiny giggle that slipped past your lips. It was kind of funny that he found it stupid.

“What?!” He turned to you, a full smile on his face. You raised a faux disappointed brow at him and he contended that with his next remark, “Okay, yes, I know I shouldn’t call it stupid. Maya said it’s because of her sister’s little crush on me. . . But it was kind of funny that she showed up with it at her birthday party, for one,” he explained, crossing his legs at the knee. “And for two, Medusa? A Greek goddess? Since when is that my primary interest?”

You shrugged at that, a small smile stuck to your features. He was adorable.

He continued on, “For some reason, Maya struggles to differentiate between pirates and mythology. . . and no matter how many times I explain they’re different, she doesn’t catch on to it.”

He shook his head, tousling a hand through his long, wavy hair as he placed the other hand on his knee. His rings weren’t present today, so you got to truly appreciate the curvatures of his tanned, masculine hands.

“You should still acknowledge that Maya’s sister’s–what’s her name?”

“Kaia. K-a-i-a. . . Different from Maya’s by two letters. Sound the same, though,” he snickered.

Kaia and Maya. . . so they’re a rhyming name family. For some reason, the thought made you snort a laugh, a grin claiming your lips.

“I know,” Jake said, a little humorous in his own tone. “Kaia and Maya. Can we agree to not name our kids rhyming names?”

Our kids? As in, more than the one in your belly?

You took note of him and his reaction to his mistake, watched the way his eyes continued scanning the walls of the white and blush waiting room.

He seemed to not notice his mess up, still going about his business as usual. His foot tapped against the bamboo flooring to the beat of the classic rock radio station playing.

You decided to ignore his words. It had been a slip up. Just like your own slip up in the car the other day.

You, speaking of love.

Jake, mentioning multiple kids.

You both were just in a state of stress with the life change. . . it wasn’t anything. Just a couple mis-worded moments.

You continued on, looking down at your belly briefly, smoothing your hands down your sweater to flatten any weird lines. “. . .Kaia’s sentiment was kind. Her little crush is sweet,” you iterated, sounding more like a mom everyday. “I hope you told her thank you.”

He chuckled, raspy and light, at you. Switching your line of sight up to him, you saw his eyes read a sense of fondness as he cast his gaze on you.

“I did,” he smirked, winking at you. Your tummy fluttered with butterflies. “You are going to be a fantastic mom, y/n. I’ve known it for a long time and I know it more and more with your little coaching moments.”

Your heart went crazy at the thought of him imagining you as a fantastic mother. And he’d known it for a long time? How long? What did that mean?

“Thanks, Jake,” you blushed a light pink, matching the colors of the crepe walls. There was one more thing you wanted to say though.

“However,” you cleared your throat, glancing at him momentarily from the corner of your eye. He was heeding you, brow arched as he waited for your next words.

“I can’t say anything to excuse Maya’s non-acknowledgment at the obvious contrasts of pirates and mythology. They are two completely different beasts,” you emphasized, turning your full attention to him. He was still watching you. The flush was back in your cheeks. “I’ve seen enough of your documentaries about pirates and I’m an English major, for God’s sake. . . so I know these things.”

The way his features brightened was precious – like he was being seen.

And he was seen. He would always be seen if you had anything to say about it.

Also, you did know the difference, you weren’t lying. None of what you said was a lie. You’d said what you did because you needed him to know that you understood. His interests mattered to you and they should to Maya as well. They should matter to her more-so.

The moment was cut off quite quickly, though, as you were hearing your name being called to the back for your appointment.

You were about to see your baby again. With Jake. And you’d know by the end of the hour if it was a boy or girl. . .

The blood was pumping in your ears as Jake fell in step beside you on the way to the back. You smiled up at him, where you were met with his sparkling eyes. Both of you were obviously giddy with eagerness and excitement.

Your thoughts were filled with everything that was to come. All sunshine and pale colors – so much love.

Here we go. . .

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: ...i wonder if you can guess the name/gender after this chapter part... ;) see you soon (next part is almost finished, my loves) :) feel free to always come to my ask box or message box! i'm always down to talk when my adhd/anxiety doesn't attack me <3

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

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

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

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#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake fic #my fics #covet #chapter 11 might be a top three fav chapter for me...#part 3 is when some shit goes downnn #ruh roh #hehe

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regular-gnome · 2 days

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Absolutely /adore/ your art and overall take on the Demon Realm world + it's history and the Archivists. Especially coming from someone who adores speculative biology and trying to find logic/science in magic (I'm not sure how to word it so it makes sense - basically almost everything you are doing here)

Curious if you have any ideas on how the titans managed to inhabit the planet, because Papa Titan's hand managed to reach the atmosphere just from lying down. There's no way that planet was big enough for a bunch of titans to walk around comfortably.

Idk much about planetary stuff, but is there some way the planet may have changed? Maybe the Archivists did something?

Sorry this ask got kinda long, hope you have a lovely day doing little gnome things :}

glad you like them!:D

So, one of the gnome things is overanalyzing things and avoiding doing math, but here we are, you actually made me read my biophysics notes from 4 years ago. There are a few things to really focus on and think about, but I gotta preface this by saying I am very much not an expert on speculative biology xD I just have the internet and some books I am basing my theories on

Titans:

First the titans themselves. A while ago, I made an approximation of how large the Boiling Isles titan is and got that it would be around 27 km in height post-mortem. Buuut if the titan was this height during its life is another question because it would run into some biophysics issues

Issues like the atmospheric pressure. At ground level, it is 101.3 kPa, but at 27 km, it falls is 1.6 hPa (titan bless wolframalpha for counting this as exp funtions are the death of me). That is 63 times higher pressure on their legs than on their head! Blood circulation would be shot to the moon. The blood is liquid that in general transports gasses so travelling fron upper body parts to lower ones where there is diffrent dissoving of oxygen would end up in gas bubbles, which are NOT GREAT. Additionally, their ability to stand up or lie down quickly would be pretty much non-existant as that would be super fast change of pressure and more bubbles. But okay, lets say they are like some kind of abyss fishes and keep constant internal pressure.. that would still mean their hearts would need to be either massive or they would have multiple pumping mechanisms to handle their size (maybe like the single-chamber hearts in fish??) And the thing is we saw their heart, it was big but not THAT big so unless it was just one of many, maybe the last beating heart there might be diffrent explanation. And Im not gonna even go into how temperature changes every 100m around 0,6C, lets say their fur makes them warm and cozy and blue blood avoids freezing problems like some arctic critters

bringing those graphs up again cause they show the altitude change nicely

All of this to say the titans during life were probably smaller. They would still have been massive, but maybe not three times the size of mt Everest massive. So next thing to consider is their magic. Their powers are closely tied to life, healing and creation and so, the demons on the Boiling Isles are said to have originated from it and their evolution waas likely sped up a lot thanks to it. Next we saw size-changing spells affecting King in the carnival episode, so it's not a stretch to believe that all titans could be affected by this kind of spells, with the strength depending on the particular titan's magic. So anyway as the titan was activly dying, its magic could have desperately attempted to save it by rapidly generating more cells to repair its failing systems, ending up in expansion of all tissues and their overall size. (Maybe thats why the vains were so big and empty in the mines, you cant create more energy so maybe the magic going with simmilar concept expanded everything around but not made more of blood?) However, despite these efforts, the magic would ultimately fail to save them. When it reached a critical point, maybe after using up most of its magical energy, the process would stop or change focus. There are some fun grusome possiblities on how that might have went down but this is already pretty long

So in short, I think the titans during life were big but only got island sized after death, otherwise theyd have some wild biological mechanisms battling physics and them becomming bigger would explain where did most of the blood go after death. Not to mention how much food they would need

Planet:

Next the size of the planet. While we don't have many clues to determine whether it's bigger or smaller than Earth, one clue is Luz's lack of reaction to changing gravity after passing through the door. If the planet were larger (or denser I know), she would feel change in g-force, so like the feeling of being on a lift going up in case of bigger planet or down in case of smaller. If the diffrence was significant she would develop issues with circulatory system and fatigue. But thats not the case and I do not have the energy to calculate min change xD

So let's say the planet is Earth-sized. This is still a lot. We don't know if there are any continents on the planet or their sizes, but even if there were same like earth, the scale is immense. If the Boiling Isles were the size of New York (based on titan's height) or even larger, say the size of Hawaii, compared to the world map, that's tiny. If Earh is 510 100 000 km², while NYC covers 1213,3 km² to cover the same area, we'd need 420423 titans lied up neatly next to each other. And thats if they are isles sized their whole life. There can also be landmasses where they can lay on, oceans deep enough to cover bodies, they can be stacked.... I don't think the planet necessarily needs to be much larger to accommodate creatures of this size

TOH as a show:

One thing to remember while analyzing shots from the show is that we we will run into contradictions because it's a show, one that is not focused on speculative biology. While most elements are well-constructed, some details may show inconsistencies. For example, determining the direction of north on a titan becomes challenging when one shot shows the sun setting in one direction and later another. Finding the titan's height poses difficulties when one shot shows their arm reaching the atmosphere while another barely shows them reaching it while standing. But its not due to carelessness, its more about serving purpose of the shot, conveying the atmosphere. They both show the titans are giant, the view from above is beautiful and if they were more focused on keeping them some arbitrery size it might have taken away from it

And Im pretty sure that I'm wrong around a lot of aspects here, how it wasnt supposed to be interpreted like that or its more convoluted than I realize. Thats just my take on this. World we live in can seem small as we can only see a tiny part of it but Earth is so amazingly vast. It's larger than we can comprehend, and yet, it's nothing compared to the vastness of the universe. So, yeah, some of my thoughts on titans and the demon realms planet xD peace

#died during writitng this #i spend 6h on this i dont know why its already light outside #toh #the owl house #owl house #toh archivists #toh titans #toh papa titan #toh analysis #ask

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