#fix hot water system

[melbournesplumber]

Discover exceptional plumbing services with NLK Plumbing. Our skilled professionals deliver top-quality solutions, from repairs to installations, ensuring your plumbing needs are met with precision. Count on us for reliable, efficient service in Melbourne.

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[deanmarywinchester]

i love living in this stupid city where every building is a million years old it seems like every week a Guy knocks on my door and is like “hello im from department of buildings do you have hot water” “hello im some fucking Guy your landlord hired because they won’t hire a full-time super let me in so I can put a newfangled Thing on your radiator” “hello im a Guy and im calling your landlord right now so she can explain what im here to do because I don’t trust your Spanish hello im your landlord do you have any children in the house who might fall out a window.” your options it seems are “build buildings that aren’t a million years old” or “hire an army of Guys”

[hotwaterheaterstafford]

Hot Water Heater Stafford

If you want an electric water heater, we can install one and you should be able to like this better than a gas system because it is easier to operate. For example, you don’t have to light a copilot or have to worry about having a fire burning in your garage or attic. Water Heaters Repair Stafford can install this unit or do any maintenance to get it operational. Of course many people have and are familiar with a gas water heater, which is the most common type of appliance. In addition to replacing worn out parts, hot Water Heaters Repair Stafford can clean it of sedimentation to increase the lifespan of this important appliance.

[waterheaterstaffordtexas]

Water Heater Stafford TX

Our Gas Water Heater Stafford TX services are exactly what you need if you would like to install that is powered by gases. Are you unsatisfied by your current heating system and you want to replace it with something that’s better? If so, don’t worry about this. Our plumbers will make it happen. Is your water heater leaking? This is a frustrating conundrum that a lot of our Texas customers find themselves in, but you can count on our technicians doing whatever it takes to end this leak for you. Water Heater Stafford TX will make a quick appointment with you and then rush to your side to help.

[ramservices1]

Discover 5 key signs your geyser needs servicing and expert tips to prevent major issues. Ensure efficiency and safety with timely professional care.

Do Visit: https://ramservicesandsales.com/2024/11/22/signs-your-geyser-needs-servicing/

[brockyselectrical]

Smoke Alarm Installation: Protect Your Home and Loved Ones with Brockys Electrical

Smoke alarms are a vital part of home safety, providing early warning against the dangers of fire and smoke inhalation. Properly installed and maintained smoke detectors can make the difference between life and tragedy. At Brockys Electrical, we understand the importance of reliable smoke alarm systems and are committed to helping you protect your family and property.

Why Smoke Alarm Installation Is Essential

Fires can spread rapidly, often leaving little time to react. Smoke alarms are designed to detect even the smallest traces of smoke, alerting you before a fire escalates. This early detection allows more time for evacuation, reducing the risk of injury or worse.

Many homes have outdated or improperly installed smoke alarms, compromising their effectiveness. Modern smoke alarm systems offer advanced features such as:

Interconnected Alarms: When one alarm detects smoke, all units sound, ensuring you’re alerted no matter where you are in the house.

Dual-Sensor Technology: These alarms detect both slow, smoldering fires and fast, flaming ones.

Battery Backup: Ensures functionality during power outages.

Professional installation ensures that your smoke alarms are compliant with local safety regulations, properly positioned for optimal performance, and tested for reliability.

What to Expect from Professional Smoke Alarm Installation

At Brockys Electrical, we go beyond simply installing a device. Our comprehensive service includes:

Assessment of Your Home: We evaluate your property layout and determine the best locations for smoke alarms.

Selection of Quality Alarms: We provide a range of high-quality, compliant smoke detectors to meet your specific needs.

Expert Installation: Our licensed electricians ensure secure and effective installation.

Testing and Demonstration: We test the alarms to confirm functionality and teach you how to maintain them.

Ongoing Support: Need maintenance or replacement? We’re just a call away.

Compliance with Regulations

In Australia, smoke alarm laws are strict, requiring homes to meet specific installation standards. For example, interconnected photoelectric smoke alarms must be installed in all bedrooms, hallways, and escape routes in residential properties. Brockys Electrical ensures your smoke alarms are fully compliant, providing peace of mind for homeowners and landlords alike.

Why Choose Brockys Electrical?

With years of experience serving the Sunshine Coast, Brockys Electrical has earned a reputation for reliability, professionalism, and customer satisfaction. Our skilled electricians prioritize safety and quality in every project. Whether you’re installing alarms in a new home or upgrading your existing system, we tailor our services to your needs.

Act Now for Your Safety

Don’t wait until it’s too late. Ensure your home is protected with professionally installed smoke alarms. Contact Brockys Electrical today for a free consultation or to book your smoke alarm installation.

Protect what matters most with Brockys Electrical – your trusted partner in home safety!

[hitechair]

Stay Cozy and Save Money: Exploring the Benefits of Gas Ducted Heating in Melbourne

In Melbourne's unpredictable climate, staying warm during winter is essential. Gas ducted heating systems provide an efficient and cost-effective solution for residents. This blog explores the numerous benefits of installing gas ducted heating in your Melbourne home.

What is Gas Ducted Heating?

Gas ducted heating operates by distributing warm air through ducts installed in the ceiling or under the floor. It uses natural gas as its fuel source, making it both economical and environmentally friendly. For efficient Gas Ducted Heating Installation Melbourne, professional services ensure optimal performance.

Energy Efficiency and Cost Savings

One of the primary advantages of gas ducted heating is its energy efficiency. These systems can achieve high energy efficiency ratings, reducing both your carbon footprint and utility bills. In Melbourne, where winters can be chilly, Ducted Fixing Melbourne ensures your system operates seamlessly throughout the season.

Comfort and Convenience

Gas ducted heating provides consistent warmth throughout your home, eliminating cold spots and maintaining a comfortable indoor environment. Whether you need Add On Heating and Cooling Installation Melbourne or a standalone heating solution, ducted systems offer flexibility to meet your needs.

Environmentally Friendly Choice

Compared to electric heating alternatives, gas ducted systems produce fewer greenhouse gas emissions, contributing positively to environmental conservation efforts. They also offer a reliable heating solution without compromising on sustainability.

In conclusion, gas ducted heating is a practical choice for Melbourne homeowners looking to stay warm while saving on heating costs. For Gas Ducted Heating Installation Melbourne, consider professional services to ensure efficient operation and maximum comfort throughout the year. Whether you need Ducted Fixing Melbourne or Add On Heating and Cooling Installation Melbourne, investing in gas ducted heating offers long-term benefits for your home and the environment.

[poulawaterheaterservice]

Poula Water Heater Service

Discover unparalleled proficiency in repairing water heaters, emergency plumbing, drain cleaning, water leak detection, sewer fix, toilet resolve, and garbage disposal aid at Houston Water Heater Services. Our dedicated crew certifies swift and reliable solutions for all your pipework needs. Experience advantage in every aspect of your piping system with us. Maintaining the optimal performance of your electric instant heater is essential for an efficient steaming water supply. Particularised tankless electric heater maintenance ensures longevity and Energy saving measures address potential issues before they escalate. Ideal for showers and suitable for daily use. For a comprehensive approach consider investing in a whole domestic powered warming apparatus without a tank that provides ample hot water for various tasks simultaneously. Whether you require a dedicated unit for your shower or a system to cater to the entire house our range of residential electric tankless heaters delivers reliability and energy savings enhancing your overall water heating experience. In the realm of water heating, understanding the nuances between tankless water heaters and traditional models is crucial, especially during emergencies. Unlike whole house tankless water heaters that provide on demand hot water, usual systems store and heat water continuously. When a gas tankless water heater encounters issues, swift action is essential. Knowing the distinctions involving tankless water heater brands is paramount for effective troubleshooting. Also considering tankless water heater rebates our company can aid in economical maintenance, encouraging homeowners to embrace energy efficient solutions.

Contact us on : 409-515-1210

[smileysuh]

fresco

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader 

🔮 preview. When you first met Hyuck in the elevator, you’d thought he was nothing more than some fuckboy line chef. But now, you see a deeper side of him. He’s thoughtful and caring, a little chaotic in the best way, but willing to calm down and match your pace. And to top it all off, he’s hot as fuck.

tw/cw. protected sex (for probably the first time ever), gentle/slow build-up sex, oral/pussy eating, slight praise, slight dirty talk, reader hasn’t been fucked in a while, low-key wholesome sex with a reformed fuckboy because you’re now cat co-parents, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.8k 

🍭 aus. Restaurant au, neighbors to lovers, accidental fur baby co-parents, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. Fresco, meaning a painting done rapidly in watercolor on wet plaster on a wall or ceiling, so that the colors penetrate the plaster and become fixed as it dries. - Alternative; Alfresco, meaning a meal eaten outside “in the fresh air” - fresco is Italian for “fresh,” and the culinary usage is relatively common in English. this fic is in conjunction with Real Talk and Comfort Cuisine.

Prologue:

You’re a little shocked to hear a knock at your door around one in the afternoon on a Tuesday. As something of a recluse professional artist, you don’t get many visitors. One look out the peephole reveals that your surprise guest is a neighbor, one Lee Donghyuck from two units down. 

“Hyuck?” you ask as you open the door. “Is something wrong?”

“I found a cat!” Hyuck whisper screams as he holds open his jacket, revealing a tiny, orange puffball, who immediately meows at you. “Can I come in?”

You’re so taken aback by this whole interaction that you don’t have it within you to argue, you simply step aside and let the frazzled line cook into your apartment.

“Okay, I don’t have much time,” Donghyuck explains. “My chef is going to kill me for taking the longest vape break ever-”

“Slow down,” you laugh.

“Look, I went for a vape break, I found this kitten by the dumpster, I jumped in my car and came here.”

“It’s a no-pet apartment building,” you point out. 

“Can you just take care of him for the day? While I figure this out?” Hyuck pleads. 

“Don’t you have other friends in the building?”

“No one who’s home all day like you are- come on, it’s a kitten, it needs someone around or it’s going to be screaming super loud and then the landlord will hear it and evict me-”

“What about a shelter?”

“I don’t have time to look up no-kill shelters, and besides, you know how the cat distribution system works!” 

“Fine,” you sigh, gazing at the purring ball of fur. “What time are you off work.”

“Around nine,” Hyuck responds, holding the kitten out for you. “You’re doing me a huge favor.”

“Just this once, while you figure the whole situation out.”

One: 

You’re doing your best to continue working, but the kitten has been a bit of a menace the entire day. You suppose this orange fur ball is a bit like Hyuck that way, not that you know your neighbor very well, but you have a sense for him. Hyuck has to be a little chaotic to turn up on your doorstep with a kitten he found by the dumpster, but the flip side of this whole thing is that Hyuck is showing a lot of tenderness to have cared about this cat at all.

You work as much as you can, but when the kitten starts crying, you decide to call it a day.

There’s a can of tuna in your pantry, the type that’s in water from when you were on a health kick a month ago, and you spoon it onto a little plate for the orange kitten.

He’s eager to eat it all up, making an obnoxious yet endearing gnawing sound as he decimates all the tuna.

When he’s finished, you lift the little cat up into your arms, taking him to your couch to rest while you put on a show.

The little trooper is exhausted, and a food coma comes quickly.

He lays on your lap, napping and purring and relaxing, and you can’t help but enjoy the little fur ball’s presence. He calms you, and before you even know it, it’s nine, and a knock at your door signals Hyuck’s return.

You lift up the orange kitten, carrying him to your door. Hyuck enters your apartment with a sigh.

“How was my child?” he asks, immediately reaching out to take the cat from your hands.

“He wasn’t too bad, I fed him a can of tuna. He’ll probably be good till the morning, but you’ve got to figure out what you’re doing with him.”

“Yeah, I’m still thinking about that,” Hyuck groans. “Thanks for the help today.”

“Don’t mention it, seriously.”

“I’ve gotta get home, I’m exhausted from work, and I’m guessing you’ve got things to do.”

You don’t have anything in particular on your schedule, but it’s not like you and Hyuck are very close, so you let him leave. It feels a little odd to look at your empty apartment once he’s gone- sure, you’d only had the kitten for nine or so hours, but… he’d livened up the space a little, in a way you can’t quite explain.

You go back to your couch, letting out a sigh as you turn your show back on.

Not fifteen minutes later there’s a knock at your door, and for the third time today, Lee Donghyuck enters your apartment.

“He wouldn’t stop crying for you!” Hyuck explains, handing the squirming kitten over to you. “Maybe he thinks you’re his mom now!”

“Hyuck,” you sigh. “You’ve got to sort this out.”

“I was thinking… can you… can you take him to the vet tomorrow?”

“The vet?”

“You know, make sure he’s not tagged or anything?”

“Make sure he’s not tagged?” you ask. “You’re hoping he’s a stray?” 

“If he’s a stray then I get to keep him,” Hyuck states. 

“Again, this is a no-pet building.”

“Everyone says that, but I know for a fact that Mrs. Sue on the fifth floor has some mega old and dying Persian, and I’m pretty sure the nonbinary couple next to me have some calico that’s missing a tail-”

“What?”

“It got out one day, I saw it scratching at their door. Have you really not seen any cats in the building?”

“I don’t go out much,” you admit.

“The point is, people have cats, they just hide them.”

You release a sigh. “I think there should be an emphasis on the word cats, not kittens, who are substantially louder and need more attention.”

“Well…” Hyuck gazes down at his feet. “You work from home.”

“So what, this is our cat now?” 

“It could be,” the line chef muses. “I mean, look at him, he’s obsessed with you!”

The orange kitten is purring like an engine in your arms, making softies against your chest, and you have to admit, it’s clear he’s taken with you, perhaps as taken as you are with him.

“Fine,” you relent. “I’ll take him to the vet tomorrow. We’ll see if he’s tagged, and we’ll work it out from there.”

“You’re literally a lifesaver.”

Two: 

The lunch rush is over, and Hyuck has time to think about you while he’s prepping for dinner. His coworker, Mark, is beside him, and Hyuck can feel his gaze.

“You good?” the tattooed softie of a chef asks.

Hyuck sighs. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

About you. How you’re the girl next door, the artist, the visionary, the lifesaver-

“I found a cat by the dumpster yesterday,” Hyuck admits.

“What?”

“My neighbor is taking care of it right now, and I guess we’ll find out if it’s chipped or not.”

“Isn’t your building like, a no-pets sort of thing?” Mark asks.

“That’s more a guideline than a rule,” Hyuck explains. “Besides, it’s a tiny cat that weighs two pounds, not some dog.”

Mark only shakes his head, continuing to cut carrots.

“I’m thinking I want to give the cat a name that’s related to food and art.”

“Why art?”

“Because my neighbor is an artist.” 

“That’s cool, have I heard of his work?”

“My neighbor is a she, Mark, god, you’re so sexist.” 

Mark stops what he’s doing, turning to face Donghyuck. “Now I get it. I bet you think she’s cute.”

“She’s super cute.”

Releasing a sigh, Mark rests his hands on the cutting board in front of him. “Names that are related to art and food. I guess you could do colors that are foods. Like, clementine or olive or something.”

“That feels too food driven, I want like, an artsy name.” 

“Let me think about it,” Mark sighs.

The two continue to work, and at the end of their shift, Mark pulls Hyuck to the side. “There’s only really one super artsy name I can think of, and it’s Fresco.”

Hyuck has no idea what Fresco means, but something about it speaks to him. Without a second thought, Hyuck blurts out, “It’s perfect!” and he promises himself to look it up before he drives home. 

Three: 

Hyuck is practically buzzing as he arrives at your apartment, but he forces himself to rein in the excitement. “How was the vet visit?” he asks.

“You got your wish, he wasn’t chipped. The vet guessed he’s a stray, born on the streets, that sort of thing,” you explain, cuddling the kitten close to your chest as you speak. “I figured you might not have time to grab provisions for him, so I got some cans of food, a litter box, some toys-”

“Really?!” Hyuck immediately reaches into his pants to pull out his wallet, removing some cash, which he thrusts out toward you. “Thank you so much for the help!”

With a shake of your head, you accept the money. “I don’t know if you’ve thought this whole thing through.”

“He’s our cat now, the distribution system is never wrong.”

You laugh, but the chuckle turns into a sigh. “Our cat, huh?” 

“I was thinking, if you don’t mind, he can stay with you during the days when I’m at work, then I’ll have him when I’m here, you know, like a child of divorce or something.”

The way you blink at him tells Hyuck you don’t find his words to be that amusing, but he can see you’re up for the task. It’s clear to him that you have fallen in love with the kitten, and Hyuck would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited about the prospect of a dual ownership- after all, it would mean the two of you would see each other more often. 

“I guess we can make this work, but if the building manager finds out, I’m blaming all of this on you,” you warn.

“I’ll take full responsibility.”

“So… I guess now you just have to name him.”

“I was thinking about that!” Hyuck blurts out, unable to hide his excitement anymore. “What about Fresco?”

“Fresco?”

“I came up with it myself,” Hyuck lies, wanting to impress you. “Fresco is an art term right? Something about painting plaster?”

“Rapidly and somewhat erratically, yes,” you laugh.

“And Alfresco is Italian for eating food outside, like, fresh air, or something,” Hyuck explains, doing his best to remember the brief research he’d done on the word before knocking on your door.

“So it’s an artsy food name,” you muse with a smile.

“An artsy food name,” Hyuck agrees.

“I kind of love it.”

Four: 

You suppose you should be used to Hyuck knocking on your door by now, but for some reason, it always comes as a surprise.

He steps into your apartment with a grin, holding Fresco in one hand, and a six-pack of beer in the other. “It’s my day off,” he announces. “Do you wanna hang out?”

You look him up and down, shaking your head and laughing. “I’m working.”

“Painting something?”

“I guess you can come see.”

“We won’t bother you too much, I promise,” Hyuck tells you as he follows you through your apartment to your little art office space. When his eyes land on your canvas, he lets out a whistle. “So you’re an artist artist?” 

“I get paid for it, so yes,” you giggle.

“You’ve got the whole setup,” Hyuck muses, immediately heading for the small couch in the corner. When he’d first dropped Fresco off, the kitten had fallen asleep on this couch, and it seems his owner is just as able to make any place into his own home.

Hyuck collapses onto the sofa, immediately cracking open a beer. “Can I watch you paint?”

You’re not one for having others watch you do your craft, but Hyuck - as it turns out - is extremely hard for you to say no to.

“Just don’t make any comments about what I could be doing better,” you warn him.

“I don’t know anything about art, so you don’t have to worry about that,” he assures you. 

“Some people don’t know anything and they still make comments,” you muse.

“Then they’re stupid.” Hyuck takes a swig of his beer, stroking Fresco as the kitten gets settled on his lap.

You pick up where you left off with the art piece, and Hyuck is quiet. He drinks his beer, pets Fresco, and scrolls on his phone, but after a while, your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Have you owned cats before?” you ask.

“Not really.”

“Well, you’re good with them. I never would have pictured you as a cat guy, it’s giving maternal.”

Hyuck lets out a laugh. “If you didn’t peg me as a cat guy, what did you peg me as?”

“Honestly? A fuckboy?”

“Everyone says that.” Hyuck shakes his head.

“So you’re saying it’s not true?” 

“I mean… maybe in the past, I’ve been a bit of a fuck boy. But, everyone around me is in these long-term relationships, and I guess these days I want commitment, even if that commitment is with a cat and not a girl.”

You consider his words, and as you do so, Fresco gets up. He approaches a few of your finished canvases, smelling them carefully. You and Hyuck both watch him as he begins to pur, clearly enjoying the colors.

“He likes your art,” Hyuck grins. 

“He has good taste.”

The two of you continue to chat while you work, and after a while, both Hyuck and Fresco pass out on the couch.

You note the way they’re bathed in the sun, and with a sigh, you put your current project to the side in favor of a blank canvas.

It’s rare to have a person, or an animal for that matter, sit still long enough for you to paint them, and something tells you both Fresco and Hyuck are tuckered out for the long haul. 

You enjoy painting them, taking in every detail, and the creativity comes as easy as ever with the two of them as your muse. 

Five: 

You and Hyuck have something of an understanding now. It’s been two weeks. Hyuck works, you take care of Fresco, and when he’s off, the line chef comes straight to your house to see your shared fur baby. 

The kitten has truly become your muse, and you’re enjoying the art of drawing this rambunctious cat.

It’s around nine o’clock, you’ve got a glass of wine, and you’re just putting the finishing touches on your recent Fresco piece, which is when Hyuck knocks at your door.

You’d unlocked your apartment an hour ago, and one call ‘Come in!’ has Hyuck entering. He lets out a whistle as he sees the canvas. “Holy shit, that’s good!”

“I know, right?” You can’t help the grin on your face. You’ve been testing out different methods, watercolors, acrylics, more abstracts- this one is more of a splatter piece, where you’d painted Fresco in funky colors, and then splattered it, you’d even dusted the canvas with glitter, spraying it with hairspray to get it to stick as an adhesive. 

“I feel like you’ve captured his chaotic essence,” Hyuck laughs.

“He’s not so chaotic right now,” you muse, looking at the kitten who’s tuckered out on the couch.

“Do you want me to take him home? Or… do you want to watch a movie or something?”

You look Hyuck up and down. “That sort of sounds like a date.”

“I mean… these past few weeks we’ve kind of been having little dates, right? I mean- I want to ask you on a real one, but we can’t leave Fresco alone…”

“No, dates here sound nice,” you nod. “I’ve got wine, if you go and wash up, grab some beer, it can be a date when you get back.” 

“Really?” His eyes practically bulge out of his head.

“Yeah, why not.”

“I’ll be right back,” Hyuck promises, nearly tripping over himself to run to the door.

He’s an odd one, but you kind of love it. 

Six: 

Hyuck’s not one for dates, but there’s something very comfortable about a stay-at-home sort of situation. The two of you are used to each other’s company, and the ease that Hyuck feels isn’t something he’s experienced with any other girl in a very long time.

In some ways, this reformed fuck boy is a touch obsessed with you.

Part of him wonders if it’s the joy of the chase- after all, he’s never interacted with a girl this long and not weasled his way into her pants. However, another part of Donghyuck knows his sexual attraction to you isn’t the main drive behind this connection.

There’s just something about you that he clicks with on a deep level.

He loves your whole art thing and he loves how kind and peaceful you are too.

“You know, you’re different from most of the girls I’ve gone out with,” Hyuck muses.

“Yeah, how so?”

“Well, usually I date within the industry, you know, servers, expo girls, that sort of thing. They’re all very… I don’t know, at work they’re extroverted. They always know what to say, but sometimes in the past, I’ve wondered if it’s all an act, and it’s made it hard for me to trust them, hard for me to see them as any more than flings.”

“That sounds like a you problem, Hyuck,” you giggle. “If you have trust issues, you have to own that, you can’t blame it on the women you’ve dated who didn’t contribute to the original wound that developed into a mistrust of girls.”

Hyuck sits with your words for a moment. 

“Also… I used to be a server, so are you saying you don’t trust me?”

His eyes snap toward you in shock. “Really?”

“Just for a bit,” you shrug. “You’d be surprised how many people take a stint at serving, especially when they’re going through uni.”

“I guess that’s where your charm comes from,” Hyuck says, swallowing thickly. “Bet you made big tips.”

You laugh, and the way your face lights up makes Hyuck’s chest feel tight.

The sound wakes up Fresco, who has been sleeping for most of your date. The kitten yawns obnoxiously, stretching out and making biscuits against your leg. 

“I’ve done alright for myself,” you muse, petting the kitten lovingly. “Which, speaking of, I think it’s about time to call it for the night. I’ve got to wake up early and finish a commission that I’ve been pushing off.”

“Right, yeah.” Hyuck shakes his head to snap himself out of the daze he’s in. “I’ll take Fresco and give you some room for your beauty sleep.”

He reaches for the kitten, who cuddles up against his chest, purring loudly as Hyuck makes his way to the door, where Hyuck stops. He turns to you, licking his lips.

“That was fun.”

“It’s usually fun with you,” you agree.

“Can I… do you mind, I mean-”

“You can kiss me, Hyuck,” you laugh, reading his mind and making him even more flustered- which is odd, because Hyuck never gets flustered. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, leaning forward. You close the distance, cupping his face so he can press his lips to yours.

Hyuck melts into the kiss, but he’s also aware of the kitten purring diligently between your chests. You’re both careful not to squish the small creature, and as much as Hyuck wants to kiss you stupid, he holds back. He gets the sense you’re also restricting yourself, and it’s all Hyuck can think about as he heads home.

He could taste the passion on you, and it’s a temptation unlike any other, a need left unsatiated due to circumstance.  

Seven: 

“You seem eager to get out of here,” Mark notes as Hyuck hurries with his closing duties. 

“Gotta get home to see my cat and my neighbor.”

“Your neighbor, you mean the cute girl next door who you somehow talked into taking care of the stray kitten you found.” 

Hyuck rolls his eyes. “It’s a dual partnership sort of thing, we both love Fresco.”

“Dual partnership,” Mark mutters. “Dude, are you like… dating this chick?”

Now Hyuck turns to look at Mark, and it takes him a second, but then he simply blurts it out, “You know what, yeah! I am dating this chick! We have a whole ass child together.”

“Your kitten is not a child,” Mark groans.

“He cock blocks like one.”

Mark immediately grimaces. “Jesus, I did not need to hear that.”  

Eight: 

It feels like now that you’ve kissed Hyuck, some invisible door has been opened in regard to your relationship. If he’d been tiptoeing around you before, now, he’s uninhibited. He shows up at your place with a bouquet of flowers, and without a second thought, you invite him into your apartment to watch a show while Fresco naps.

While this is only officially date number two, it feels like you’ve had a lot of dates- the two of you have been spending many evenings together when Hyuck picks up Fresco after work, it’s just now, these ‘hangouts’ have a more specific purpose or designation. 

You’re interested in Donghyuck, and your opinion of him has changed drastically in two weeks.

When you first met him in the elevator, you’d thought he was nothing more than some fuckboy line chef. But now, you see a deeper side of him.

He’s thoughtful and caring, a little chaotic in the best way, but willing to calm down and match your pace.

And to top it all off, he’s hot as fuck.

God, you pour so much of yourself into your art that you haven’t really left room for a relationship in a long time. There’s a convenience to Hyuck, given that he’s your neighbor, but this whole blossoming relationship isn’t just founded on proximity. 

The cornerstone of all of this is Fresco, if you’re being honest with yourself.

Fresco, the little cat that Hyuck brought into your life because he knew you would open your heart for it. He knew that together, the two of you would be able to take care of this sweet kitten and give him a good life. Existing as something like strangers, Hyuck had been able to see your caring soul, even if you’d been blinded to his kindred heart.

You’ve already ripped the bandaid off with a kiss, and when Hyuck notices you staring at his mouth, he shifts closer. 

“Hi,” he grins.

“Hi, yourself,” you giggle.

You watch him swallow a lump in his throat, his gaze flickering down to your lips and then up again. “I’m hoping that kiss wasn’t a one-time thing.”

“It wasn’t,” you assure him. “I’m just not used to dating, and making a move has never been my fortè.” 

“Then I can make all the moves,” Hyuck chuckles. “We can go as slow or as fast as you want.”

“I think you know what I want right now.”

Hyuck’s grin widens. “For a girl who doesn’t make moves, that was a pretty sexy move you just made.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Hyuck can only laugh as he leans forward, cupping your cheek and bringing his lips to your own.

You grab at his shoulders, trying to shift closer- but Fresco is asleep between the two of you, so there’s only so much room to move.

The kiss turns heated, with Hyuck’s tongue swiping your bottom lip, and you can’t help the moan that escapes you.

He feels so good, and the way his hand cups your cheek- there’s something dominant about it. Hyuck’s clearly confident, and from the way he kisses, he has every right to be.

You’re drunk from just a bit of kissing, and you can only imagine what full-on sex with this man would be like-

A loud meow makes you jump, and Hyuck lets go of you with a sigh. Both of you look down at Fresco, who’s now awake, and as rambunctious as ever as he begins to make softies on Hyuck’s thigh.

“Cock block,” Hyuck groans, but he begins to pet the small kitten all the same.

You laugh a little, releasing a sigh as you try to calm your racing heart. Maybe you’d needed an interruption because you were about ten seconds from ripping Hyuck’s clothes off, and maybe, just maybe, you should give things with him just a little more time.

You’re horny after a long period without a relationship, and you want to be sure Hyuck’s right for you before you jump into something with your neighbor, after all, not every romp with the boy next door ends happily, and you very much like this living tension free in this building. 

Nine: 

It’s been a week of making out and getting interrupted by Fresco.

Tonight, you’re in the little studio room. You’re on the couch sipping wine while Hyuck uses a feather-string toy to tire out the naughty kitten.

It’s been an hour of playing, and you’re shocked such a tiny animal has so much energy, but you can see it dwindling.

“Come on, Fresco, don’t you want a nap?” Hyuck groans, lying on the ground while he flicks the feathered toy here and there for the tiny kitten.

You can’t help but laugh at his antics. At this point, Hyuck looks more tired than Fresco does, but that’s what happens when he works a nine-hour shift. He’d told you when he arrived that the restaurant was busy today, something about a walk-in twenty top just as happy hour started, and the longest order of appetizers he’s ever seen. 

You’re thankful when Fresco finally yawns, and Hyuck practically jumps for joy, picking up his kitten and carrying him to the little bed you’d bought. Hyuck sets Fresco down on the green pillowy fabric, and the kitten immediately stretches, letting out a sigh.

You begin to pet Fresco as Hyuck lets out a sigh, collapsing on the couch and reaching for his beer.

“Who knew having a kitten would be like having a baby.”

“To be honest, babies might be easier,” you joke, making Hyuck laugh.

“Do you want kids?” he asks, shifting the tone rather suddenly.

“Uh… I don’t know, do you?”

Hyuck shrugs. “I guess it depends on the girl I end up with. I would be happy with kids, but I’d be just as happy with two cats and a dog, you know?”

“Two cats and a dog?” You cock a brow. “When did you come up with that specific of a dynamic?”

“Well, I figure, cats like company. Fresco would be easier to take care of if he had a playmate, you know? And I like dogs, but if we have more than one dog, then it might overpower Fresco and the other cat. So I feel like, Fresco, another cat, and maybe a cat-sized dog would be perfect.”

“I never pictured you as a small dog kind of guy.”

“Well, weiner dogs are cute as fuck, I don’t know what to tell you.”

You laugh as you imagine this perfect little life dynamic that Hyuck has clearly spent time thinking about.

“You’d have to find a different apartment to live in,” you muse.

“That’s doable,” Hyuck shrugs. “You’ve got this whole one-bedroom, den, and office space set up, but I’m in a bachelor suite right now. If you and I end up dating for a while, we’d have to find a bigger place.”

“You’ve been thinking a lot about the future, huh?” 

“I’m a father now,” Hyuck jokes, petting Fresco, “I need to be thinking ahead.”

You stare at this pretty man, this man who had walked into your life only a month ago like a sudden storm. You’d initially seen him as a type of chaos, but he’s calmed down considerably. He’s a reliable, nurturing person, and now, the type of man who thinks about the future instead of just taking things as they come.

You like that he has plans, plans that seem to include you. This isn’t just a short-term thing to him, and that knowledge has your throat feeling tight.

Looking down at Fresco, you realize he’s asleep. “Come on,” you whisper, “let's move to the kitchen.”

Hyuck doesn’t question you as you both stand, and you exit your small office studio area, carefully closing the door behind you.

In the kitchen, you set your wine glass down before turning to Hyuck.

“How long do you think Fresco will be sleeping for?” you ask.

Hyuck shrugs. “Could be an hour, could be ten minutes.”

You consider his words for a moment. “I get the feeling you can work with ten minutes.”

He stares at you blankly, and you see the second the lightbulb goes off in his brain. “I mean-” He clears his throat. “If you’re up for that, I could definitely- you know, I could take care of you in ten minutes-”

“Then let's not waste any more time,” you tell him, closing the distance to throw your arms around Hyuck’s shoulders. His lips press against yours immediately, his hands grabbing your hips to pull you incredibly close- this is the first time Fresco hasn’t been between the two of you, and it feels like heaven to have full-body contact like this. 

God, his tongue is perfect as it strokes against your own, his fingers digging into your hips when you release a moan from the sensation.

“Your bedroom,” Hyuck whispers gruffly, and you can tell it’s taking all his control to not throw you over your kitchen counter right now.

“Come on,” you tell him grabbing his hand and leading him to your room. For good measure, you close the door, hoping two sound barriers will allow Fresco to sleep through all of this- you’re not sure what you’d do if he began to cry while Hyuck was balls deep inside of you, and you don’t want to find out, not now.

Hyuck’s lips are on yours again almost immediately, and you grab the front of his shirt, pulling him with you as you back up toward your bed. Your calves touch the mattress and you lower yourself down, keeping your mouths connected as you do so.

“Take your shirt off,” you command next, a little shocked that you feel confident enough to tell Hyuck what to do in a situation like this.

“Whatever you say, gorgeous,” Hyuck laughs, breaking the kiss so he can tear his shirt off.

Then he’s on top of you, and your legs are wrapping around his hips, pulling him closer as your lips clash passionately. 

“Can I start undressing you?” he asks, mouth moving to your throat, where he licks at your skin and makes you gasp.

“Yeah, whatever you want,” you tell him, swallowing thickly and trying to center yourself.

His fingers find your shirt, and he slowly pulls it up. You help the process by lifting your arms, and the fabric is discarded. You’re in a cute lacey bra and silky shorts now, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been dressing extra cute this past week in the hopes that this would happen.

No, you’re fully prepared. You’d taken one of those horrific ‘full-body showers’ in the morning, and you’re thanking God that it wasn’t in vain.

“This is cute,” Hyuck tells you, mouth moving down to your chest as his hand cups your breast through the bra, squeezing gently.

“Thank you,” you gasp, loving the way it feels to be touched by him like this.

You’re a little surprised when his mouth moves down past your breasts to your abdomen, and he slinks down onto the floor as he begins to drag your shorts off.

It’s clear what his intention is, and it has your heart racing- you haven’t been eaten out in ages, and most men make the whole thing feel like a chore. Having Hyuck, who is clearly eager to get his mouth on your pussy without being told to… it’s super sexy, and you can feel yourself getting wet already. 

“Ten minutes, right?” he jokes, looking up at you as he hooks his fingers in your panties. “I think I can work with that.”

You can’t even find the words within yourself to respond as he strips you bare from the waist down. His hands grab your thighs and he begins kissing up your legs, looking up at you to be sure you’re okay with this.

You nod at him, swallowing thickly in preparation.

“So wet already,” Hyuck muses. “Guess you’ve been wanting this for a while too.”

“Uh huh.” God, you feel so dumb, but he just makes you crazy- he takes your words away, and as he takes his first lick of your pussy, all you know is pleasure.

Your head falls back as a groan escapes you, your body immediately relaxing as he starts to eat you out.

He’s slow with it, taking his time to explore you. You get the sense that he’s listening to your responses, gauging what feels best.

His lips suction around your clit and you whimper, threading your fingers through his hair.

Hyuck switches between licking and sucking, testing different pressures until he finds the right one, and then you’re gasping, eyes clenched shut as pleasure begins to build even faster in the pit of your stomach. 

“That feels so good,” you whimper, wanting to give him praise despite your current tongue-tied disposition. 

Hyuck groans against your core, and the sound has your legs shaking. Your grip tightens in his hair, and from the way he reacts, you can tell he kind of likes the pain.

Fuck, he’s so sexy- you’ve never been this turned on before, and it helps you get to the edge faster than you can even fathom.

“Shit, fuck, Hyuck-” you groan, eyes clenching shut again as your stomach muscles tense incredibly tight.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t pull away from your pussy for even a moment, but a new vigor erupts through him, and that’s all you need as confirmation that he wants you to cum.

A few more licks, a few more sucks, and a gasp escapes you, your muscles clenching right before the release that rockets through your entire body.

Your core is throbbing, pulsing with pleasure that overwhelms you in the best possible way.

Sounds of pleasure are escaping you with no regard to being too loud- your mind is blank except for the orgasm Hyuck has just provided, and he eats you out through the entire thing until your thighs are shaking and you can’t take it anymore.

He pulls away, and you can practically hear him licking his lips.

“I’ll grab a condom,” he tells you.

Although you’re on birth control to manage your period, this is a man you’ve never slept with before, a man who hasn’t discussed exclusivity, and more importantly, a man who’s admitted to being a fuckboy in the past.

You stay quiet as Hyuck pulls his wallet out of his pants, retrieving a condom. 

Then, Hyuck pushes the fabric of his jeans down, exposing himself fully to you.

You can’t help the way you begin to salivate.

His cock is thick, and it’s a decent length too. Your best friend has referred to this type of cock as ‘boyfriend dick’ before, meaning the type that’s big enough to satisfy, but not so big that it leaves you feeling wrecked.

You undo your bra, joining Hyuck in full nudity before you reposition on your bed, moving up so you can rest on the pillows.

He rolls the condom onto his cock, not whining one word of protest about wearing it- in fact, you hadn’t even asked him to, he’d just taken matters into his own hand to practice safe sex for your first time.

You kind of love this.

He’s definitely turned your opinion on him right around- this is not the man you thought he was, and the man he is… well, he’s so much better than you could have imagined. 

“Okay,” Hyuck whispers as he finishes with the condom, looking up at you. “You good for this?”

“Yes, please.” You open your arms for him, beckoning him onto the bed.

He joins you, and your legs wrap around his hips, your lips meeting his own.

He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his tongue, but it’s not unpleasant. He groans against your mouth and you thread your fingers through his hair tugging gently.

Hyuck is grinding down against your core, and it feels amazing to have slight stimulus on your clit after an orgasm, but your inner walls are screaming for attention, and soon, you’re reaching between your bodies to grab his cock. 

“Ten minutes, remember?” you laugh.

“Fuck, I got distracted.” He presses his forehead against yours, looking down at where you’re guiding his tip to your entrance. 

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “Just focus now, I got to cum, so I want you to cum too.”

Hyuck moans at your words, and you slip the tip of his cock inside of you, making you groan too.

He smashes his lips to yours again, kissing you eagerly as he sinks into your core. He goes slowly, allowing your body to adjust, and once he’s fully inside of you, he pauses so you can both moan from the sensation.

“You feel so good,” he tells you, his breath hot along your throat as he moves to press kisses there.

“You too,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “You can move.”

“Okay, gorgeous.” He swallows thickly. “I’ve got you.”

Then he begins to fuck you. As was his pace when he entered you, Hyuck is careful not to start at a hundred percent. He builds tempo comfortably, and your moaning urges him on until he’s fucking you so hard that the bed is shaking.

You grasp his shoulders roughly, whimpering as he kisses your throat, paying attention to your sweet spot. Each lick of your neck has your body tingling, your pussy getting wetter and wetter as he rails into you.

Your nipples feel incredibly sensitive too, pushed up against his chest. Each rock of his body is a sensation against all your most important erogenous zones, and it has you going crazy.

As it was with him eating you out, your mind is blank as Hyuck fucks you, and you kind of love it.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking perfect,” Hyuck groans.

He grabs your hand, lacing your fingers as he presses it to the bed as an anchor, and then his lips meet yours again.

It feels so intimate to be fucking like this, and it makes things even more pleasurable.

You can feel the pressure building in the pit of your stomach again, can feel your core beginning to tighten around him-

“Are you gonna cum again for me?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m close,” you whimper.

“When you cum, I cum,” Hyuck tells you, pressing his lips to yours so you can’t disagree.

He fucks you even harder, and each drag of his hips has your clit being stimulated too, which is tightening the coil in your abdomen even more-

You begin to gasp against his lips, getting closer and closer until you explode for a second time, your pussy clamping down on Hyuck like a vice.

“Fuck!” He pulls away from your lips, moving to bury his face against your throat. You can tell your orgasm has triggered his own from the way he’s panting, his thrusts faltering ever so slightly- you’re pretty sure he’s doing his best to fuck you through your high, despite the fact that this might be overstimulating for him.

Maybe he likes a bit of overstimulation, as he likes the pain that comes from pulling on his hair. Regardless, he fucks you through it until you’re both gasping messes.

Then, as you lay there for a moment, you hear a meow.

You and Hyuck both break out into laughter, and you kiss his cheek. “You can go clean up in the bathroom, I’ll deal with Fresco.”

“Can I stay here tonight?” Hyuck asks. “You know, cuddle?”

“You and Fresco can both stay,” you assure him. 

“The first of many sleepovers,” Hyuck tells you, standing up with a groan. “I like you a lot.”

You can sense there’s a deeper emotion behind his words, but it’s still too early to be deep diving into any feelings more serious than ‘liking’ each other, so with a nod and smile, you agree. “I like you too.” 

And for now, that’s all you need to say.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! We love men and kittens!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. You feel closer to this man than you’ve ever felt to anyone in your life, and warmth spreads from your chest at the notion of having a forever love like this.

cw/ tw.Unprotected sex, oral, blow job, hand job, pussy eating, sixty-nine, foreplay, grinding, nipple worship, overstimulation, Hyuck is a little on the rough side, multiple reader orgasms, size kink, fucking quietly/with a hand over your mouth, slight breath control/sensory deprivation, etc…  I petnames. (hers) gorgeous.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 130

🌙 starring. Donghyuck x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been six months of hiding Fresco, and three near misses with your building manager, so when Hyuck shows you a pet-friendly apartment he’s found online, you jump at the chance to view it.

“This is so much bigger than your space,” Hyuck muses as you do the walk-through. “And look, this room has better light for your paintings!”

You can see him imagining himself here, and it warms your heart.

“Are you ready for this next step?” you ask, pulling Hyuck to the side to have a heart-to-heart.

“I’ve been ready to move in with you for months,” he tells you, hands falling onto your hips.

“This is a big change,” you remind him.

“But it’s good, for us, for Fresco- and the lease doesn’t say anything about the amount of animals either.”

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[tsukeilvr]

“i had a dream about you, y'know.” you muse mindlessly as you pour the hot water into your coffee mug.

“oh yeah?” nishinoya yuu replies, “mind telling me about this dream of yours?” his voice sounds so near, yet so far. you glance at his face on your phone screen, as he watches you go through your mundane daily routine. you take a sip of your coffee, sighing, “well, we had a talking dog..”

for the past three or so years, days and nights were usually spent like this; you and nishinoya on the phone talking about your days or the places he plans on travelling to next. you were always dead-set on finishing college and getting a job, and he planned on travelling the world until there was nothing left to see. you were both going through with your plans, and what made it easier was going through it together. timezones & countries away from each other made it hard, but you made it work.

as for the past few months, he's been in greece, visiting the different temples & ruins the beautiful country holds.

“i’m so serious right now, it was like a fever dream—you were suddenly an old man, like, what?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “then i woke up.”

“okay... so it was basically a fucked-up version of up?” his eyebrows are furrowed as he processes the information given to him just now, you reply with a hum as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. you're about to say something when you notice him glitching on your screen, and you try your best not to laugh at the sight of his distorted face. “uhm, babe?” he doesn't reply. “babe.” your eyes scan his surroundings—hold on, where the fuck is he?

“babe, where are you right now?” you ask, laughing a little as his screen turns back to normal—albeit moving at light speed for the first few seconds—he simply raises his eyebrows in response, stuttering. you squint your eyes, “did you just come out of an elevator?”

“uh—i’m at the acropolis museum. they have a really advanced system here, actually! 's not all, like, temple ruins like i thought it'd be.” he clears his throat, fixing his hair a little. you nod a little.

the two of you sit in silence for a minute or two, minus the sounds of his footsteps & the busy streets from outside your apartment window. “i miss you,” you've been away from him for too long; you miss his touch, his hugs, his scent—even if it was a little too musky. you wait for him to say it back, and as his mouth opens, the screen freezes.

“...babe?” you roll your eyes at the signal issues—this always happened. “i’ll just call you later.” you reach for your phone and hang up, leaning back in your chair.

you can't deny it, sometimes the distance frustrated you. your co-workers talk about coming home to their wives, kids, or husbands, yet at the end of the day, you come home to an empty bed.

a knock on the door surprises you, a voice calling out, “special delivery!” a package? you didn't have any money for that. you walk to your front door, expecting a delivery man—your eyes widen as you meet a pair of familiar brown eyes, gasping in shock as he kneels down on one knee with a ring in his hand.

nishinoya yuu.

“i missed you too.”

[vin-taege]

Could you do headcannons for both sfw and nsfw showering with Chishiya? :3

The Water's Just Right

Summary: Showering headcanons for our favorite snarky boy

Genre: fluff, smut, gn! reader

Note: Oh yeah, I'm back again! I've been gone for so long because of college, but I'm here again to revive the aib fandom >:3 also my first time writing headcannons. :DDD I think I got carried away sjjsjs

☄. *. ⋆ sfw

ok let's start with headcannons for the real world

as a doctor, he mainly takes quick showers

contrary to popular belief, i feel like he enjoys hot showers over cold ones. like he's already going to be stressed because of work, so might as well have at least one part of his day be a little relaxing

the only time you can take joint showers with him is during his off-days or if you stay up long enough to catch him coming home

he doesn't like it when you do the latter option because he firmly believes you should take care of yourself and sleep early

even though he runs on 3 hours of sleep maximum every day

he lets you wash his hair after initially (and weakly) refusing

you definitely use scented shampoo on him (strawberry because he thinks floral scents are too strong)

he prefers subtle scents because the hospital is already filled with strong odors.

he'll never admit he likes it when you wash his hair, especially when you massage his scalp

"did you purr a little?"

"I think you need your hearing checked."

loves it when you run your hands up and down his back

you mainly use showering as an excuse to dote on him

likes kissing your neck while you attempt to lather soap on him

random but he installed a non-slip mat on the floor because he doesn't want the two of you to get into any accidents

likes playing with your hair by gathering soap bubbles and dumping them on you

you don't point this out because you're scared he'll withdraw from letting himself be a kid for once

sometimes when it's been a rough day, he lets you hold him in the shower for a moment

just letting the warm water wash away his stress while he melts into your arms

he used to skip lotion until you started putting it on him

he got used to it after that and subconsciously started integrating it into his routine

honestly before you came along, had the worst skincare routine ever

"That's... that's not how you put on facial wash. You need to wash your face with it for at least a minute."

"I'm not a dermatologist, y/n."

"You don't need to be to know that???"

In the borderlands, it's basically the same but without the luxury of proper skin products.

always ALWAYS showers after games

he hates the ick from going outside and keeps himself sane by maintaining cleanliness

surprisingly, he's more forward with asking you to join him

in the real world, you're the one who always asks for permission, but now he always looks for your presence

especially since he knows you could be gone any day

"Do you want to join me?"

"Didn't the heater system break down?"

"I fixed ours. The water's just right."

☄. *. ⋆ nsfw

remember that non-slip mat?

oh yeah, that was definitely for this occasion

he doesn't like lifting you up because again, safety first

prefers standing positions where he can press you up against the wall.

LOVES LOVES LOVES FOGGING UP THE GLASS

he doesn't pull your hair because he knows it'll be prone to breakage

he's such a nerd about bodily care except for when it comes to himself.

holds your neck instead and uses it as leverage to pound into you

either that or he digs his fingers into your hips so he can grind his cock inside you.

makes it his goal to make you squirt at least once

OK THIS IS MY PERSONAL HEADCANNON

it may be because of the tight space, or the bathroom acoustics, or the added privacy

but this man is definitely louder in the shower

you love sucking him off because of this

deep moaning, swearing, whimpering when you're being a little shit and you overstimulate him

plays with your chest a lot because he likes how slippery the soap makes it

LISTEN

also installed a detachable showerhead ;)))

[evielmostdefinitely]

hiiii could you please write something about aftercare with young snow? like how in jealous girl it says he babied her afterwards, but a whole fic about it? i just wanna see how sweet a cruel man like snow can be 🤭

tip of my fingers |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above, aftercare with snow.

contains: fluff. mentions of dom/sub themes. possessive snow.

Coriolanus sat on the edge of the bed, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, chest still rising and falling with every ragged breath from his post orgasm. He always got flushed like this after a night of particularly rough sex. 

“‘M going to the shower, my love.” Corio muttered, curls matted to his forehead, muggy and sweaty. His hand patted the top of your thigh, gentler than before, your skin still raw and sensitive. 

You didn’t move, didn’t utter a word, really didn’t make a sound besides a pathetic whine. Corio’s head snapped around, turning to you in an instant. His eyes narrowed carefully, scanning over you like he was assessing his latest plans. “Are you alright?” 

Your glazed eyes staring off, face turned, smushed into the mattress, a pool of your own drool beneath you. Normally he’d mock you, tease you for being so messy. “My messy girl, look at you.” He’d give you a grin that felt more like a sneer. 

Not this time. 

Coriolanus called your name, softly but firmly, crouching in front of you. His hand rubbed over your clammy forehead, heated cheeks still flushed from your climax. “Look at me, darling.” Corio muttered, fingers tracing over your cheek down the slope of your neck. You shuddered but didn’t turn to him, still lost in your own haze. “Can you hear me?” 

Your own mind was miles away from that very bedroom, lost under roaring waves and a hazy fog that Corio always got you in. Usually you snapped back quicker, a few loving kisses, the shock of a cold rag cleaning you up. Other times, it was more difficult. 

Coriolanus moved to the bathroom, swallowing down the venomous bark of spewing orders that threatened to fall from his lips. He didn’t like this feeling, when he was out of control, especially with you. When something was wrong and he didn’t know an immediate fix. The rational side of himself told him to stay calm, do what he knew to before spiraling into a panic. 

Corio tried to swallow down his beating heart, wringing the cold water out of the cloth, before walking back into the bedroom. The air was still thick and hot, sticky with the lingering musk of sex. He moved beside you, wordlessly, smoothing the cloth over your forehead. 

The icy feeling shocked your system, leaving your shuddering, mind lurching back, vision clearing. Corio was before you, brows pinched with a concerned frown, studying you carefully. Your eyes met his, blinking helplessly before him. He swallowed a groan at how it made his cock lurch, seeing you so weak and needy. 

“My love,” Corio’s hand slid down your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. “Are you alright?” 

You blinked, moving into his touch, nearly instinctively. “You’re alright?” Corio pressed, head tilting in a much softer way to look at you. “Yes?” 

You nodded, pushing off the mattress, groaning at the uncomfortable stretch of sore skin on your ass and thighs. Coriolanus had used his belt, your favorite, tonight. 

“Be careful.” Corio clicked, hands wrapping around your biceps, much softer now than before. “You’re going to be sore, darling girl. Careful.” His tone softer now, hushed mumblings as he helped you up. 

You winced when your raw skin brushed the silk of the sheets, the ghosting of a whimper on your lips. Corio shushed you gently, sitting next to you, pulling you into his lap. His hand brushing down your hair, your skin sticky on his own. 

“How are you feeling?” Coriolanus muttered, lips brushing against your scalp, breathing in the sweaty scent mixed with your perfume from before. 

“‘M alright.” You muttered, your cheek against his pec. You could hear his heart rate, how it fluttered and stilled to a steady rhythm. How it would erupt in an excited crescendo when you finally spoke, making your veins fill with ooey gooey rushes of adoration. For all of Coriolanus’ cruelties, his harshness- he did love you. It was evident in moments like these. 

“Do you need the healing ointment? I can get it from the servant’s quarters-” 

“-I’ll be alright, Corio.” You hummed, eyes pulling heavily. The exhaustion washes over you in thick waves. “I just want you to hold me, please.” Your eyes lifted, rounding sweetly. 

He’d be a fool not to, Coriolanus decided, pulling you closer into his chest. He liked you like this, pliant and at his every whim, completely reliant on him. 

Corio moved to the bath after, quieting your whines of protest with a small tut, coaxing kisses to your temples, testing the bath water with great show while you sat on the ledge. 

You stayed pressed to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline, like you might float away or dissolve if he let go. Corio let you, ego swelling off the dependency. 

“Did I go too hard?” Corio hummed, a sudsy hand rubbing down your spine. The bath filled with the tonic fresh from District Eleven, dried orange peels, lavender, and rose. Coriolanus brought it to you, after his last visit to the district. You had swooned over it, smothering him sillily in kisses that made him blush. 

“No,” You shook your head, inhaling the scent that was entirely his. “I think it was the teasing and the spanking, at the same time. I just- I wasn’t ready for it.” You knew what he wanted to hear. Coriolanus had always been adamant after your rough play that you debrief him. It felt very professional, which is why you were reluctant, but that type of blunt, straight forward reporting is what Corio responded best to. 

Corio nodded, a low hum vibrating out of his chest, tickling your ear. “I see. I won’t do it as much next time.” He wouldn’t apologize, but you could hear it in his unspoken words. 

“Just not as much at the same time.” You whispered sheepishly, as if he didn’t know every part of you. 

Coriolanus nodded, a wet hand rubbing the base of your neck, scratching your scalp gently. He knew you loved it, knew it would have your head tipping back into his touch so he could kiss you. 

You let him wash you, dry you off- only whimpering when the towel brushes over your ignited skin. He shushed you, a silent apology, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh. He put the ointment on anyway, muttering flippantly about how “you had obligations tomorrow, and didn’t need to be squirming the whole time”. You knew it was because it made him feel better. 

Corio dressed you in your nightgown, slipping the powdery blue, soft fabric over your skin, trailing kisses from the back of your shoulder to your ear. 

Underneath the silk of the sheets, you slept in his arms, face to face, whispering in the darkness of the room. It always brought out the vulnerability of Coriolanus in these moments, holding you, feeling you, smelling you- he’d bear his soul to you. 

“I’m unsure about the games.” Corio muttered, arms tightening around you. 

“Unsure in what way, honey?” You hummed, finger raking through his curls, behind his ear- his favorite spot. 

“Unsure that they’ll be as successful as they need to be.” Corio hummed, and even through the dark you could see the concern on his features. “Unsure that people will watch.” 

You paused for a moment. You decided not to tell him how you truly felt, not then, anyways. Selfishly, you didn’t want to ruin the intimacy, the softness of the moment. “I’m sure they’ll be everything you hope for them to be.” You hummed, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “Everything always does.” 

Your words, as forced as they were, brought comfort to Coriolanus. His head falling back into your hair, pressing a kiss to your scalp. Fingertips brushing skin, hushed words, and soft kisses all exchanged under the twilight of the night. Tomorrow, you’d be prim and proper. You’d stand beside Corio respectfully, hide your grimace at the mention of the upcoming reaping, refrain from rolling your eyes at the suck ups that flocked to Coriolanus in a giddy, exaggerated manner. You two would be the picture of perfection that Panem wanted you to be. For now, you’d be content to lay in each other's arms, being yourself instead.

[alovelyfrenchworld]

Your Neighborly Orc Part 3

Gûruk carrying you home stayed in your mind for the rest of the day.

Sore from your fall, you decided a hot bath would be best. You were going to have to face the unfortunate consequences on your clumsiness.

It really had to be when someone could see, didn't it?

Boiling some water in a cauldron over the fire, you prepped everything you would need. Scrambling through your cabinet in the bathroom, you decided on a rosehip oil and some dried lavender to add to your bath for maximum comfort. Your drying cloth was hanging over the edge of the tub, scented with rose soap.

Your aching, bruising muscles were dying to get into a tub of comfort.

The boiling water was dumped into the wooden tub and you watched as the steam overtook your quaint bathroom. The rosehip oil and dried lavdender petals added a calming aroma.

The water burned for a moment as you got in, but it quickly turned into an embracing warmth that allowed you to relieve the tension you had felt.

Quickly, your weariness caught up to you and you dozed off in the comforting embrace of the warm, aromatic water. But, in your half-conscious state, you were startled by sudden noises outside. Your cat trilled outside the bathroom door, the horse gave a short neigh, and the chickens bawked. Concerned by the uproar, you quickly got out of the tub and threw on a shift and a robe.

You walked towards the noise, opening your front door fervently. What you did not expect was to be greeted by Gûruk standing on your porch, hammer in hand.

"Oh!" you exclaimed.

Realizing your fear, Gûruk immediately began to apologize.

"I am so sorry for frightening you. I just -" he paused, a small blush creeping across his lips as he got quieter. "Wanted to help..."

He gestured over to the front of your stables where your repaired wagon sat. No more broken wheel. And sitting on the porch was a stack of firewood that almost reached the ceiling of the awning.

"After your fall," Gûruk cleared his throat harshly before continuing. "I was worried about your provisions. Then I saw some things were broken and I didn't want you to further your injuries if you decided to, you know, fix anything."

The orc was clearly frazzled. It was and a bit unsettling that he had come by presumably and unannounced, but you could tell that there was no ill intent.

"Thank you, Gûruk." you gave him a soft smile.

He glanced at your more compromised state and wet hair, clearly noting you were fresh from a bath.

"Gods, forgive me!" He turned away quickly, moving his gaze towards his feet. "I did not mean to put you in an unladylike position."

You looked down at your attire and shrugged.

"Hardly anything ladylike about me. Besides, it is I who came out upon my own free will. You have not put in any position that I have consented to." Hoping to ease his embarassment, you placed a gentle hand on his very muscular forearm.

The contact sent a chill down your spine, almost as if a spark was sent through your nervous system. Gûruk must have felt the same as he briefly tensed at the contact before relaxing into your hand.

"How can I thank you for your help? You've already done so much for me and I have yet to repay any favors." You asked, genuinely.

"I would ask nothing from you. I did what I did because I wanted to. Besides, you are injured. I highly doubt you came from that fall uninjured." He was worried. You hardly knew each other and yet this man, this orc, who most everyone would assume was a warmongering brute, was worried about you.

"Your words are kind, Gûruk, but please, let me do something in return. Supper, perhaps?" You gestured toward your front door, hinting at his possible staying.

"As are yours, Y/N, but I would not intrude on a lady's home." The rejection stung, but you understood. He had no obligation to accept.

"Again, I am no lady." You took a step closer to him, having to tilt your head up completely to make eye contact with him. His height was tremendous, at least 7 feet. "I am merely a woman. My status is low at best, but a lady I could never be."

"A woman to me is a lady. You would be deserving such a title." He made intense eye contact with you, but retracted quickly when he realized it. "I must be going, Y/N. My tribe will be needing me."

He walked down the steps of the porch, but turned his head back to speak. "I would very much like to sup with you."

You perked up quickly. You smiled at him hopefully. "Really?"

"Not tonight," he huffed. "But, I think I can make an exception tomorrow evening. I can make an excuse for my men to let me go for a few hours. Is there a time that works best for you?"

He was now completely facing you, giving you his full attention.

Shyly, you wondered, "When do orcs normally dine?"

Gûruk chuckled. "Whenever you would like."

He didn't quite smile, but his eyes seem to indicate that he wanted to. He was probably keeping up his strong facade you noticed he often uses. "7 o'clock, then. I'll make stew."

"7 it is then."

"Goodbye, Gûruk."

"Until tomorrow, Y/N."

With dinner plans settled, he walked off back into the woods towards his home. Until tomorrow.

Tags:

@yourlittlehoe

@lem-hhn

@apuddleonthelivingroomfloor

@blushycadaver

[ramservices1]

5 Signs Your Geyser Needs Professional Servicing: How to Prevent Major Issues

Your geyser is an essential home appliance, especially during colder months when hot water becomes a necessity. However, like any other appliance, your geyser requires regular maintenance to function properly. Ignoring the signs your geyser needs servicing can lead to costly repairs or even total breakdowns. At Ram Services and Sales, we prioritize maintaining the health of your geyser to ensure it works efficiently and safely. In this guide, we’ll cover five critical signs of geyser problems and how you can prevent major issues through regular maintenance and professional inspections.

Signs Your Geyser Needs Servicing: Why Geyser Maintenance Matters

Routine water heater maintenance is key to preventing breakdowns, ensuring safety, and maintaining energy efficiency. A neglected geyser can lead to a range of problems, from inefficient heating to more serious concerns like leaks or electrical issues. Being aware of the signs your geyser needs servicing can help you address problems before they become serious, saving you both time and money.

1. Inconsistent or No Hot Water

One of the most obvious signs your geyser needs servicing is inconsistent water temperature or a complete lack of hot water. If your water heater is struggling to maintain a steady temperature, it may be an indication of several underlying issues:

Sediment Buildup: Over time, minerals and sediment can accumulate at the bottom of your geyser, reducing its ability to heat water effectively.

Faulty Thermostat: A malfunctioning thermostat could cause temperature fluctuations or prevent the geyser from heating water at all.

Worn-Out Heating Element: The heating element in your geyser might be worn out and unable to function efficiently.

If you notice these geyser malfunction symptoms, it’s time to call Ram Services and Sales for a professional inspection. Addressing these issues early on can prevent a complete system breakdown.

2. Strange Noises Coming from the Geyser

Unusual noises coming from your water heater are another critical sign your geyser needs servicing. Geysers generally operate quietly, so any banging, popping, or rumbling noises should not be ignored. These sounds are often caused by geyser efficiency issues such as:

Sediment Buildup: As sediment settles at the bottom of the tank, it hardens and causes the heating element to work harder, which leads to popping or banging sounds.

Air Pockets: Trapped air in the system can cause strange noises as the water is heated.

Ignoring these warning signs for geyser repair can lead to further damage, including leaks or complete failure of the system. A professional service from Ram Services and Sales can diagnose and resolve these issues before they escalate.

3. Water Discoloration or Rust

If you notice discolored or rusty water coming from your geyser, this is a clear sign of geyser problems. Water discoloration is often a symptom of corrosion inside the water tank or pipes. Common causes include:

Rusting Tank: A rusty tank may be nearing the end of its life and could soon start leaking.

Corroded Anode Rod: The anode rod inside the geyser is designed to attract corrosive elements and prevent them from damaging the tank. However, over time, the rod itself can corrode and may need replacement.

Regular geyser service requirements, such as checking the anode rod, can prevent rust and prolong the life of your geyser. If you see rusty water, it’s time to contact Ram Services and Sales for an immediate inspection.

Continue Reading: https://ramservicesandsales.com/2024/11/22/signs-your-geyser-needs-servicing/

[brockyselectrical]

Switchboard Upgrades: Enhancing Electrical Safety and Efficiency

Your switchboard is the heart of your home or business's electrical system, distributing power to every outlet, light, and appliance. Over time, as electrical demands increase, outdated switchboards can struggle to keep up, posing safety risks and inefficiencies. This is where switchboard upgrades come in, a critical service to ensure your electrical system is safe, compliant, and capable of handling modern energy needs.

Why Upgrade Your Switchboard?

Increased Safety Older switchboards often lack the advanced safety features of modern systems, such as residual current devices (RCDs) or circuit breakers. These devices provide essential protection against electrical faults, reducing the risk of fires, electrocution, and property damage. Upgrading ensures your switchboard meets today’s stringent safety standards.

Handle Increased Electrical Demand With the proliferation of appliances, electronics, and energy-efficient solutions like solar panels, your electrical system may need more capacity than your old switchboard can provide. A switchboard upgrade ensures your system can handle current and future energy demands without overloads or interruptions.

Compliance with Regulations Electrical standards evolve over time. An outdated switchboard might not comply with current regulations, especially in older homes or commercial buildings. Upgrading your switchboard brings your property up to code, giving you peace of mind and protecting you from potential legal and insurance complications.

Cost Savings and Energy Efficiency A modern switchboard operates more efficiently, reducing unnecessary energy consumption. Additionally, by preventing frequent electrical issues, you save on repair costs and minimize downtime in your home or business.

Signs You Need a Switchboard Upgrade

Frequent circuit breaker trips or blown fuses.

Flickering lights or fluctuating power.

Warm or sparking power outlets.

An outdated system using ceramic fuses instead of modern circuit breakers.

Planning renovations, installing heavy appliances, or adding solar power.

If any of these sound familiar, it’s time to consider an upgrade.

Why Choose Brockys Electrical?

At Brockys Electrical, we specialize in high-quality switchboard upgrades tailored to your specific needs. Our team of licensed electricians is experienced in upgrading switchboards for homes, offices, and industrial facilities. We focus on safety, efficiency, and seamless integration with your current electrical setup.

Here’s why customers trust Brockys Electrical:

Expertise and Compliance: All work adheres to Australian electrical standards.

Transparent Pricing: Upfront quotes with no hidden fees.

Quick Turnaround: Minimizing disruption to your daily routine.

Comprehensive Service: We assess your electrical system, recommend the best solution, and perform a flawless upgrade.

Upgrade Today for a Safer Tomorrow

Don’t let an outdated switchboard compromise your safety and efficiency. Contact Brockys Electrical today to schedule a consultation. Our friendly team will assess your needs and provide a cost-effective solution that ensures your electrical system is ready for the future.

Call us now or visit our website to book your switchboard upgrade. Let Brockys Electrical keep your power flowing safely and efficiently!

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 36/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap, Angst

Word Count: 8075

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Jensen’s panic quickly shifted to anger, sharp and hot as it coursed through him. He stared at the photo again, his jaw tightening. He recognized the moment immediately—it had been just before Christmas, during one of the most exhausting days he’d had with the kids and Danneel. He’d wanted nothing more than a break, a few quiet moments to himself, and the hot tub had seemed like the perfect escape.

He remembered it vividly: he’d been leaning back, arms stretched out on the edge, eyes closed, a few drinks already in his system. The steam rising around him had been a small comfort, a rare moment of peace in a storm of tension. And then Danneel had appeared, catching him off guard as she joined him—completely naked.

“What the fuck are you doing, Danneel?”, he’d barked, sitting up straight as she slid into the water.

“I just want to talk”, she’d said smoothly, her tone too calm, too practiced. She’d waded closer, her movements deliberate, and before he could react, she’d climbed onto his lap.

The memory made his blood boil. He’d pushed her away immediately, his voice sharp and full of disbelief. “Get off me! What the fuck is wrong with you?”,

But none of that was in the photo. Whoever had taken it—probably Danneel herself—had captured only the moment before, when she was laughing, leaning against him, making it look far more intimate than it had been. The scratch on his bicep from hanging the Christmas picture was like a mocking timestamp, proof of how recent the photo was.

“She planned this”, Jensen muttered to himself, his anger growing with each passing second. “She fucking planned it”.

He clenched his phone tightly, his mind racing. This was exactly the kind of manipulation Danneel was capable of—trying to undermine his relationship with you, to keep him tethered to her for appearances, or simply out of spite. It was infuriating, and it made him feel sick knowing that you’d been hurt because of it.

Jensen paced the room, running a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out what to do. He needed to fix this. He needed to talk to you, to explain everything. But first, he had to make sure this didn’t happen again.

He grabbed his phone and called Danneel. She answered after a few rings, her voice casual, as if she hadn’t just sent a wrecking ball into his life.

“Jensen”, she greeted, her tone almost sweet. “What’s up?”.

“You know exactly what’s up”, he snapped, his voice low and angry. “That photo. The one you sent to her. The fuck are you trying to do?”.

There was a pause, then a feigned laugh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about”.

“Don’t play games with me, Danneel”, he said, his tone sharp. “You set me up. You took that picture knowing exactly how it would look, and then you sent it to her to mess with us. Why?”.

Jensen’s voice was rising, raw and filled with fury. “How the hell did you even get her fucking number?”, he demanded, pacing back and forth, the tension radiating off him in waves. His hand tightened around his phone as though he could physically shake the truth out of her.

Danneel’s pause on the other end of the line was brief but telling. “It wasn’t hard”, she said casually, her tone dripping with smug satisfaction. “You know, Jensen. Your phone always laying around”.

Jensen let out a sharp, bitter laugh, his disbelief bubbling over. “You signed the fucking papers, Danneel! It’s already over. Why the fuck would you try to destroy that for me? Why can’t you just let me be happy?”.

Her voice was calm, too calm, and it only made him angrier. “Because, Jensen, you don’t just get to walk away like this never happened. You don’t get to move on and play house with someone else while everything we built gets left in the dust”.

“Everything we built?”, Jensen snapped, his voice nearly breaking. “You mean the marriage you’ve been emotionally checked out of for years? The marriage that was dead long before I met her? Don’t give me that bullshit, Danneel”.

His words hit a nerve, and her tone turned icy. “Watch yourself, Jensen. I still have plenty of things I could say. Things that could make your little fairy tale crumble”.

Jensen stopped pacing, his body rigid as he pressed the phone closer to his ear. “You think threatening me is going to change anything?”, he growled. “You’re only proving why I had to leave in the first place. I’m done playing these games, Danneel. Done”.

She didn’t respond right away, but he could almost hear her smirk through the silence. “If you were really done, Jensen, you wouldn’t be calling me now, would you?”.

His grip on the phone tightened. “The only reason I’m calling is because you crossed a line. You had no right to send her that picture. None”.

“And yet”, Danneel said smoothly, “it seems to have gotten your attention. Funny how that works”.

Jensen clenched his jaw, the anger simmering in him reaching a boiling point. “You think this is a fucking game, don’t you?”, he said, his voice deadly quiet now. “Well, congratulations. You won this round. But this stops here. Do you hear me? I won’t let you come between us”.

Danneel’s laughter came through the phone, low and cold, the sound sending a fresh wave of frustration through Jensen. “Looks like it’s already working”, she mused, her voice tinged with triumph. “You’re losing your temper, Jensen. I don’t think I’ve heard you this rattled in years”.

He clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around the phone. “You think this is funny? You’re playing with people’s lives, Danneel. Real people. This isn’t just some power move to make you feel better”.

She ignored his words entirely, her tone dripping with mock concern. “So, how bad was it? Did she already dump you? You don’t call me like this unless you’re desperate. Guess I hit a nerve”.

Jensen’s chest tightened at her question, his mind flashing to you. The guilt was suffocating, but he wasn’t about to give Danneel the satisfaction of knowing she’d hit her mark.

“You’re unbelievable”, he said, his voice low and dangerous. “This isn’t about me. This isn’t about her. It’s about you not knowing when to let go. You signed the papers, Danneel. What the hell do you even want from me?”.

“Maybe I just wanted to remind you who you’re dealing with”, she said smoothly. “You don’t get to rewrite history, Jensen. I was there first, and I’ll always be part of your story, whether you like it or not”.

Jensen let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head even though she couldn’t see him. “You really don’t get it, do you? Being ‘first’ doesn’t mean a damn thing when you treat someone like they’re last. Whatever hold you think you have on me, it’s gone. And if you ever try something like this again, you’ll regret it. Trust me”.

Danneel’s silence stretched for a moment, her smirk almost audible when she finally spoke again. “We’ll see about that”, she said simply, her tone calm and calculating.

Jensen ended the call without another word, throwing his phone onto the couch as he dragged a hand through his hair. His chest felt tight, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on him.

The sun was already high in the sky by the time you stirred awake, your body feeling heavy from a restless night. As you rubbed your eyes and reached for your phone, the missed calls and messages from Jensen were the first thing you noticed. Your chest tightened as you scrolled through, rereading his words:

“This isn’t what it looks like. Please, call me as soon as you wake up. I swear, there’s nothing between us. I love you. I’ll explain everything”.

Despite his reassurances, doubt gnawed at the edges of your mind. How could he explain a picture like that? No matter how much you trusted him, seeing him and Danneel together—naked in a hot tub, no less—felt like a punch to the gut. You needed to hear his voice, needed him to tell you this was some cruel misunderstanding.

You quickly dialed his number, the ringing in your ear feeling like a countdown to answers you weren’t sure you were ready for. But instead of Jensen’s familiar voice, you were met with his voicemail. You tried again, your anxiety climbing higher with each unanswered call.

By the third attempt, you sat back on the couch, your phone still clutched in your hand. Jensen wasn’t picking up, and the hollow ache in your chest grew stronger. Little did you know, he had finally succumbed to the exhaustion that had been dragging at him, having stayed up for hours after his night shoot, waiting for your call. His phone was sitting untouched on the nightstand beside him as he slept deeply.

You stared at your phone, debating whether to leave a message. The weight of your emotions made it hard to think clearly. A part of you wanted to lash out, to demand answers, but another part of you just wanted to cry. Instead, you put the phone down, wrapping your arms around your knees as you tried to steady your breathing.

The room felt too quiet, the silence amplifying every doubt and fear in your mind. Jensen’s reassurances in his message had sounded so genuine, but the image of him and Danneel wouldn’t leave your mind. You hated feeling like this—unsure, insecure, questioning the foundation of a relationship that had always felt so solid.

You curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket over you as you tried to gather your thoughts. You knew you needed to talk to him, but the uncertainty of what you’d hear when you finally connected weighed heavily on you.

The day felt like an endless tug-of-war, each missed connection with Jensen adding to the gnawing anxiety in your chest. Every time he called, you missed it—whether you were in the shower, in the bathroom, or distracted with mundane tasks. Each time you tried to call him back, he was on set, his phone tucked away as he filmed.

It was frustrating, the space between you growing wider with every missed opportunity to connect. But what truly broke you was the message from the unknown number—one that cut through your fragile resolve like a knife:

“You think he’s faithful to you when he wasn’t with me? Don’t fool yourself. Stop being a stupid little girl”.

The words stared back at you from the screen, venomous and cruel. Your stomach twisted, and your hands trembled as you reread the message. It was the same number that had sent the photo, and while you didn’t know who it belonged to, the implication was clear: someone wanted to hurt you. And worse, a part of you couldn’t ignore the nagging fear that it might be true.

The nausea returned with a vengeance, twisting your stomach into knots as the cruel message replayed in your mind. No matter how hard you tried to push it away, it lingered, poisoning your thoughts with doubt and insecurity. By the evening, you found yourself hunched over the toilet, your body trembling as you emptied your stomach yet again. The violent retching left you gasping for breath, your hands clutching the cool porcelain for support.

Tears streamed down your face, a mix of physical exhaustion and emotional turmoil. You hated how deeply it affected you, hated how a few words from an anonymous number could unravel your sense of security. The image of the photo—the hot tub, the laughter, the closeness—was seared into your mind, feeding your worst fears.

By the time the sickness subsided, you were shaking, your body weak and your mind heavy with despair. You leaned back against the bathroom wall, your knees pulled to your chest as you tried to steady your breathing. The house felt too quiet, too empty, amplifying the ache in your chest.

Your phone buzzed from the counter, the sound startling in the silence. You hesitated, reaching for it with trembling hands. The screen lit up with Jensen’s name, and your heart skipped a beat. He was trying again.

You stared at it for a moment, torn between answering and letting it go to voicemail. Eventually, you pressed the green button, your voice hoarse as you whispered, “Yeah?”.

“Baby”, Jensen’s voice came through, filled with relief and urgency. “Finally. I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Are you okay?”.

The sound of his voice sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, and your throat tightened. “No”, you admitted, your voice breaking. “I’m not okay, Jensen. I don’t know how to be okay right now”.

His sigh was heavy, his frustration with himself clear.

"I swear, that picture isn’t real”, Jensen said urgently, his voice tinged with panic. “Well, I mean—it is, but it’s not what it looks like. It’s not what you think, baby. You have to believe me”.

You closed your eyes tightly, tears slipping down your cheeks as you shook your head even though he couldn’t see you. “Jensen, I don’t even know what to believe anymore”, you sobbed, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “It hurts. It hurts so much”.

The sound of your crying broke something in him, and his voice softened, though the desperation was still there. “Don’t say that”, he murmured. “Please don’t say that. I love you. I love you so much, and I would never hurt you like this—not on purpose”.

Your grip on the phone tightened as another wave of tears overcame you. “Then why does it feel like you did?”, you choked out, the pain in your chest almost unbearable. “Why do I feel like I’m just… some stupid little girl, like that message said?”.

Jensen let out a string of curses under his breath, his frustration clear. “That message? That’s not me. That’s not us. That’s Danneel trying to mess with your head. She sent that picture, and I know she sent that message too. She’s trying to ruin what we have because she’s bitter, but it’s not true, baby. None of it is true”.

His words were rushed, almost frantic, and you could hear how much this was tearing him apart. But your mind was a storm of doubt, the image of that photo and the cruel words from the message replaying over and over.

“Then why were you even in that situation?”, you demanded, your voice shaky but laced with a flicker of anger. “Why did it happen in the first place? Do you know what it’s like, sitting here, alone, missing you, and then seeing that? Do you?”.

Jensen’s silence was deafening, and for a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then his voice came through, raw and filled with regret. “No, I don’t”, he admitted quietly. “I don’t know what it’s like. But I know that I messed up. I let myself get caught in her bullshit, and it’s hurting you, and I hate it. I hate myself for it”.

Your sobs quieted slightly, your heart aching at the pain in his voice. “Jensen…”, you whispered, unsure of what to say.

“I’m coming home”, he said firmly, cutting you off. “I’ll get on the next flight, and I’ll explain everything to you in person. I need you to see my face when I tell you the truth, baby. Please let me come home and fix this”.

Your heart was racing, torn between the desire to believe Jensen and the lingering doubt clawing at your mind. Just as you were about to respond, you heard a voice in the background, faint but clear enough to interrupt the moment.

“Jensen!”, It was Antony, one of his co-stars. “They need you on set. Now”.

Jensen cursed under his breath, his frustration palpable even through the phone. “Shit”, he muttered, his voice strained. “Baby, I don’t want to hang up, but they’re calling me. I—”.

You cut him off, your voice raw and unsteady. “Go. Just go, Jensen. Do your job”.

He hesitated, clearly torn. “I don’t want to leave you like this”.

“You don’t have a choice, do you?”, you said bitterly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You immediately regretted the sharpness in your tone but didn’t correct yourself. “Just… do what you have to do”.

“Baby, please”, he pleaded, his voice softening. “Don’t let this fester. I’ll call you back as soon as I’m done. Or better yet, I’ll get on a plane tonight. I swear”.

The line went quiet for a moment as he waited for your response, but all you could manage was a quiet, “Okay”.

“I love you”, he said, the words carrying an almost desperate sincerity.

But you couldn’t say it back, not right now. The silence stretched, and before he could push further, Antony called his name again, more insistent this time.

“I have to go”, Jensen said reluctantly. “Please, just… hold on for me”.

You didn’t respond, and after a beat, the line went dead. The sound of the call ending left an emptiness that felt even heavier than before. You stared at your phone, the quiet around you amplifying every ache in your chest.

For the rest of the day, you felt trapped in limbo, unable to focus on anything. Every time your phone buzzed, your heart jumped, only to sink again when it wasn’t Jensen. The mix of anger, sadness, and doubt churned in you, making it impossible to find peace.

You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to. But the picture, the message—it was too much. And now, with him gone again, all you could do was wait.

The next morning, the nausea clung to you like a persistent shadow, leaving you drained and barely able to move. Each step to the bathroom felt like a marathon, and the cycle of weakness, tiredness, and hurt seemed unending. Your emotions were already raw, and the physical toll only made everything feel heavier.

Every moment, you expected to hear the door open, to see Jensen standing there with an apology and an explanation. But the house remained quiet, save for the occasional hum of your phone vibrating with notifications that weren’t from him.

When you finally managed to drag yourself back to bed, curling up under the covers in a futile attempt to find comfort, your phone buzzed again. It was from Jensen, and the brief flicker of hope in your chest vanished as you opened the message:

“I’ve tried everything, but I can’t come. They need me in Toronto for two more weeks. I’ll call you tonight—I promise”.

The words blurred in your vision as tears welled up again. Two more weeks. It felt like a lifetime, especially after the emotional storm of the past few days. The hurt twisted in your chest, mingling with a sense of defeat. He wasn’t coming, and the hollow ache of his absence felt unbearable.

You threw your phone onto the bedside table, burying your face into the pillow as your body shook with silent sobs. His promise to call that night was little solace. The distance between you wasn’t just physical anymore—it felt emotional, a canyon growing wider with every unanswered question and missed reassurance.

Hours passed in a haze, the nausea keeping you pinned to the bed as the weight of everything pressed down on you. The day dragged on endlessly, the hours punctuated only by your occasional trips to the bathroom. Each time you returned to bed, the ache in your chest seemed heavier.

When night fell, you stared at your phone, waiting for it to ring. You wanted answers, explanations, anything that could ease the turmoil inside you. But as the minutes stretched into hours, the phone remained silent.

You were too tired to cry anymore. Curling up under the covers, you closed your eyes, your heart heavy as sleep finally claimed you, though it offered no escape from the pain.

Even though Jensen rarely left voice messages, you woke up around midnight to see a notification: a voicemail from him. Your heart raced as you played it, his familiar, exhausted voice filling the quiet room.

“Hey, baby”, he began, his tone heavy with fatigue. “I’m so sorry, but things are absolutely crazy here on set. We’ve had delays all day, and I can’t call tonight. I know you’re upset with me, and I promise we’ll talk soon. I just need you to hang on a little longer. I love you”.

It was the kind of message that would’ve reassured you once—but not now. Not after the past few days of being pushed aside, ignored, and left in the dark. First, the lack of calls or texts. Then the picture and message that shattered your trust. And now, this—another excuse, another delay.

Your emotions surged, the hurt and frustration boiling over into something you could no longer suppress. Gripping your phone tightly, you opened your messages and typed out the words before you could second-guess yourself:

“It’s alright, Jensen. Maybe a little break is what we need right now. See you in two weeks”.

Your thumb hovered over the send button for a moment, doubt creeping in. But the anger and exhaustion won out, and you pressed it, the message sending in an instant.

As the seconds ticked by, the weight of your decision began to settle in. You set the phone down on the nightstand, staring up at the ceiling as your chest tightened. For now, this felt like the only way to protect yourself from the rollercoaster of emotions he’d put you through. You needed space—space to think, to breathe, and maybe even to figure out if this relationship was truly as solid as you’d believed.

Curling up under the covers, you willed yourself to sleep, though your mind refused to quiet. You didn’t know how Jensen would react, or if he’d even respond, but for now, the ball was in his court.

The next few days passed in a blur of unanswered calls and unread messages from Jensen. His texts ranged from concerned to apologetic, to downright pleading, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Every time your phone buzzed, it only added to the weight in your chest.

It wasn’t just the unrelenting nausea that kept you from answering—though that was bad enough. It was the fear of hearing yet another excuse or promise that would inevitably fall short. You felt raw, drained, and utterly unprepared to face his voice or explanations. And then, another fear began creeping in: you couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten a proper meal. Over the past week, everything you tried to eat came right back up. You were weak, shaky, and desperate for answers.

So today, you dragged yourself to the doctor’s office, clutching the straps of your bag tightly as you sat in the waiting room. You’d convinced yourself that the stress had finally caught up with you, wreaking havoc on your stomach. Maybe some pills could calm it down. Maybe you just needed something to numb everything you were feeling.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)?”, the nurse called out, her voice drawing your attention. You stood slowly, your legs unsteady beneath you as you followed her into the exam room.

The doctor entered shortly after, a kind, older man who listened intently as you explained your symptoms. He nodded along, jotting down notes on his clipboard.

“Well”, he said, closing the file and looking up at you with a calm expression, “it sounds like there could be a few things going on here. But before we jump to conclusions, let’s run some tests to rule out anything serious”.

You nodded, your hands clasped tightly in your lap as they drew blood and asked for a urine sample.

The doctor’s words were calm and reassuring as he handed you a small pamphlet about managing stress-related nausea, though his advice to rest and eat light foods felt almost impossible to follow. He mentioned the test results would be ready in two days, and you could return to discuss them. You nodded along, thanking him softly before leaving the office with heavy steps.

When you reached your car, you slid into the driver’s seat and pulled out your phone to set a reminder for the follow-up appointment. As you scrolled through your calendar to select the date, something stopped you cold: little red dots marking the weeks of your cycle—or rather, the lack of them. Your heart stuttered as the realization hit you.

You hadn’t marked your last period.

Not this month.

Not even the month before.

Your mind raced as you counted backward, piecing together the timeline. Stress, nausea, exhaustion - it all clicked into place like a puzzle you hadn’t even realized you were solving.

You stared at your phone screen, the glaring absence of those little red dots sending your mind spinning. For a moment, you just sat there, frozen, as the weight of the realization settled over you. Then, to your own surprise, a laugh bubbled up from your chest—sharp, bitter, and disbelieving.

“This has to be a fucking joke”, you muttered to yourself, shaking your head as the laugh turned into something closer to hysteria. Your life already felt like a bad movie, but this? This was beyond absurd.

Pregnant? No. Absolutely not. That wasn’t even possible.

Jensen had told you about his vasectomy years ago. He’d said it with a shrug, explaining how he’d made the decision after his third child. “Snipped and done”.

So what the hell was this?

Your stomach churned, and for once, you weren’t sure if it was the nausea or the panic clawing at you. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles turning white as you tried to rationalize what was happening. Maybe you’d miscounted your cycles. Maybe the stress had thrown off your hormones. Maybe the nausea was some weird lingering bug that had nothing to do with this.

You bit your lip, your mind racing as you tried to shake the persistent thought of pregnancy. It wasn’t logical. It couldn’t be true. And yet, the idea clung to you like a bad dream, refusing to let go. Every rational argument you came up with was met with that same nagging doubt.

“Against all odds”, you muttered to yourself bitterly. “Just my fucking luck”.

In a trance-like state, you started the car and drove to the nearest pharmacy. The familiar streets blurred around you as your thoughts spiraled, replaying every moment that could have brought you to this point. By the time you pulled into the parking lot, your hands were trembling on the wheel.

You didn’t get out right away. Instead, you sat there, staring at the bright pharmacy sign glowing in the distance. Your stomach churned with nerves, a fresh wave of nausea rolling over you as you considered the possibility. It was ridiculous. Impossible. And yet, here you were.

As you leaned your head back against the seat, your phone buzzed next to you. The screen lit up with Jensen’s name, and your heart clenched. He was trying again. Another call, another chance to hear his voice, to let him explain, to maybe find some comfort in the chaos.

But instead of answering, you let it ring. The sound seemed to echo in the confined space of the car, each buzz pulling at your already raw emotions. You couldn’t do it. Not right now. Not until you had answers for yourself.

When the call ended, you stared at the phone for a long moment before finally stepping out of the car. The cold air hit you, jolting you slightly as you headed inside. You moved through the store quickly, avoiding eye contact as you grabbed a couple of pregnancy tests and made your way to the register. The cashier barely looked at you, and you were grateful for their indifference.

Back in the car, the bag felt heavy in your lap as you sat in silence. Your chest felt tight, your breath shaky as you realized there was no turning back now. Whatever the result, you needed to know.

You gripped the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles pale as you took a deep, shaky breath. It’s just the stress, you told yourself. Jensen can’t make babies. He had a vasectomy, for fuck´s sake. This is all in my head.

Repeating those words like a mantra, you started the car and began the drive home.

The drive felt longer than usual, your thoughts spinning with every mile. You thought of Jensen, his laughter, the way he’d always reassured you when you were overthinking. But now, it felt like there was a wall between you, built by the distance, the missed calls, the photo, and now this unbearable uncertainty.

It’s just stress, you repeated silently. It has to be.

By the time you pulled into your driveway, your nerves were frayed, but you felt a faint flicker of determination. You gathered the bag, clutching it tightly as you made your way inside. You dropped your purse near the door and headed straight to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and locking it with a resolute click.

You placed the boxes on the counter, staring at them for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. “Let’s just get this over with”, you muttered to yourself, opening one packaging and reading the instructions. Despite your shaky hands, you managed to follow the steps, setting the test down on the counter as you sat back on the edge of the bathtub, waiting.

The seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity. You tried to calm your racing heart, reminding yourself again and again that the odds were impossible. Jensen couldn’t make babies. You were just overwhelmed, and dealing with too much at once.

But even as you told yourself that, you couldn’t shake the weight of doubt pressing down on your chest.

Finally, the timer on your phone buzzed softly, jolting you out of your thoughts. You stared at the test lying face down on the counter, your heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. For a long moment, you couldn’t move, your hands gripping the edge of the counter to steady yourself.

It’s impossible. It’s just the stress, you repeated in your mind, but the words felt hollow now. Every second you hesitated made the tension in your chest grow tighter, the air in the bathroom feeling impossibly thick.

Finally, with trembling fingers, you reached for the test, the plastic cool against your skin as you turned it over. The small screen blinked back at you, and for a moment, your brain refused to process what you were seeing.

Two lines.

The world tilted for a moment, your breath catching as you stared at the unmistakable result. Two lines. Pregnant.

“No”, you whispered, shaking your head as if that could change the outcome. “No, that’s not… that’s not possible”.

But the test didn’t waver. The reality of it stared back at you, unflinching and undeniable.

Your hands trembled as you reached for the other tests, ripping open the packages with shaky fingers. It has to be wrong, you thought desperately, your mind racing. It’s just stress, or a faulty test. It has to be.

One by one, you followed the instructions, your breath shallow and your pulse pounding in your ears. You lined up the tests on the counter, each of them a small, silent judge waiting to deliver their verdict.

Time dragged as you waited, staring at the row of tests like they held the power to decide your future. Finally, the seconds ticked down, and you turned the first test over. Then the second. The third.

By the time all five were turned, you were staring at ten lines total, their meaning unmistakable. Pregnant. Every single one.

You bit your lip, still frozen in place, unable to process what you were seeing. A hollow laugh bubbled up in your throat, escaping despite yourself. “This can’t be real”, you whispered, shaking your head as you gripped the edge of the counter for support. “It’s… it’s not possible”.

But the lines staring back at you didn’t waver. The room felt too quiet, the weight of the truth pressing down on you like a lead blanket.

Your stomach churned, the nausea threatening to rise again, but you pushed it down, focusing on the tests in front of you. Ten lines. Five tests. There was no escaping it now.

You’re pregnant.

And you had no idea what to do next.

The silence in the room grew heavier as another thought crept into your mind, one you didn’t want to entertain but couldn’t shake.

Maybe Jensen lied about the vasectomy.

You frowned, staring at the tests again as if they might suddenly change their verdict.

And while you were sure Jensen loved his kids more than anything, he’d always been so adamant about not wanting more. That was part of the reason you’d never really worried about this happening. He was certain. He was done. Wasn’t he?

Your mind spiraled, each question leading to another. Had he lied? It didn’t seem like him to do that.

You shook your head, cutting off the whirlwind of thoughts. No. Jensen wasn’t the kind of man to lie about something like that. He was too honest, sometimes to a fault. But then what?

Your stomach twisted again, not just from the nausea but from the fear and uncertainty clawing at you. The picture, the message, the distance between you and Jensen lately—it all felt like it was piling on top of this new revelation, threatening to crush you.

You needed answers, but the thought of calling Jensen felt impossible right now. If he had lied, what then? If he hadn’t, how did this happen?

What the hell are you going to do?

You sank onto the bathroom floor, your back against the wall, staring at the line of positive tests on the counter. For the first time in days, the tears didn’t come. You were too overwhelmed, too numb to cry. You didn’t know what to feel—only that your world had just shifted in a way you never could have expected.

On set, Jensen was a shadow of his usual self. He’d always been the kind of actor who could compartmentalize—focus entirely on the work, leaving whatever was going on in his personal life at the door. But today, it was like that ability had completely deserted him.

He fumbled his lines repeatedly, missing his cues and breaking character in ways that were completely uncharacteristic of him. Every mistake earned him a concerned look from the director, but he brushed off the quiet questions with a muttered, “Sorry, long night”, or a vague excuse about being under the weather.

Inside, though, he was spiraling.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you—not just your silence, but the fear that had settled deep in his chest. Jensen had never felt panic like this before. You weren’t just upset; you were shutting him out completely. No matter how many times he called or texted, there was no response. And after the message he’d left last night, he thought he’d hear from you by now.

He wasn’t used to this kind of uncertainty, and it terrified him. The possibility of losing you—of pushing you so far away that he couldn’t fix it—felt unbearable.

“Jensen”, the assistant director, called gently, bringing him back to the moment. “Let’s take it from the top. Just take a breath, man”.

Jensen nodded stiffly, running a hand through his hair as he forced himself to focus. He tried to shake it off, to dig into the professionalism he’d relied on for so many years, but the second the scene started again, his mind wandered.

Are you okay? Are you still upset? Are you—

“Cut!”, the director called, exasperated but still trying to be patient. “Jensen, man, what’s going on? This isn’t like you”.

Jensen exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as he struggled to come up with an answer. He couldn’t tell them the truth—that he was one text away from completely unraveling.

“I just—”, he started, but the words wouldn’t come. He shook his head and muttered, “Give me five”.

Without waiting for permission, he walked off set, grabbing his jacket and pulling his phone out of the pocket. He stared at the screen, willing it to light up with a message from you, something—anything—to break the silence. But there was nothing.

He hovered over your name in his contacts, his thumb brushing over the call button, but he hesitated. If you weren’t answering, it was because you didn’t want to talk to him. And the thought of that hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Damn it”, he muttered, leaning heavily against the wall. He wasn’t used to feeling this helpless, and it was driving him to the brink.

As the afternoon crept on, your phone buzzed persistently with calls. Each time Jensen’s name lit up the screen, it was like another weight pressing against your chest. You’d ignored him for days, but his relentless attempts to reach you began to chip away at your resolve. By the fifth call in a row, you sighed heavily, your fingers trembling as you finally answered.

“Hey”, your voice came out quieter and shakier than you’d intended, but it was all you could manage.

There was a beat of silence on the other end, followed by the sound of Jensen’s breath hitching. “Baby”, he said, his voice full of relief but also thick with worry. “Thank God. I’ve been losing my mind. Why haven’t you been answering? Are you okay?”.

The sound of his voice, so familiar yet distant, sent a pang through your chest. For the first time, it felt foreign to you—like the voice of someone you no longer knew. The days of silence, the picture, the cruel message, the endless nausea, and now the impossible test results… it was all too much.

“I’m fine”, you said flatly, the words automatic. But they weren’t true, and you knew he could tell.

“Fine?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “I know you´re not.Talk to me”.

You hesitated, gripping the phone tighter as your emotions warred within you. Part of you wanted to tell him everything—to lay it all out and demand answers. But another part of you felt so detached, so unsure of where you even stood, that the thought of opening up to him felt impossible.

“I’m just… tired”, you said finally, your voice cracking slightly. “It’s been a lot, Jensen. I don’t know…”.

He cut you off, his voice tinged with desperation. “Don’t do this. Don’t shut me out. Please, baby. I know I’ve messed up. I know I haven’t been there the way I should’ve been, but I swear to you, I’m trying to fix it”.

His words should have soothed you, but they only made the ache in your chest worse. “It feels like all you do is promise things”, you said softly, your tone bitter despite your attempt to keep it neutral. “But nothing ever changes".

“That’s not true”, he argued, his voice raising slightly in frustration. “I’ve been trying, trying to come home, but the timing’s been—”.

“Terrible?”, you interjected. “Yeah, Jensen. It’s been terrible. For me. For us. And I don’t even know if there’s an ‘us’ anymore”.

The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of your words hanging in the air. When Jensen finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “What are you saying?”, he asked, his tone raw and broken.

Your grip on the phone tightened as you struggled to hold back tears. “I don’t know”, you admitted, your voice trembling. “I don’t know what I’m saying, Jensen. I just… I don’t know how to feel right now”.

The vulnerability in your voice seemed to knock the wind out of him. “(Y/N)”, he whispered, his voice full of pain, “whatever this is, we can figure it out. Please, don’t give up on me. On us”.

Hearing his voice crack sent fresh tears streaming down your face, but you stayed silent, unsure of what to say. For the first time, you weren’t sure if there was anything left to say.

Jensen’s voice broke through the heavy silence, softer now, laced with raw emotion. “You know it’s been Danneel”, he whispered, his tone pleading but also tinged with hurt. “She’s trying to destroy us. She’s done it before, and now she’s doing it again. Why would you doubt me so easily?”.

His words hit you like a weight, and you felt your chest tighten further. You closed your eyes, leaning against the wall as your grip on the phone tightened. You wanted to believe him—you really did. But everything about the past few days had left you feeling fragile, unmoored, and unsure of what to trust.

“It’s not that easy”, you murmured, your voice barely audible. “I saw the picture, Jensen. I read the message. And you weren’t here to explain. It’s been days. How was I supposed to feel?”.

Jensen exhaled sharply on the other end, his frustration barely contained. “You were supposed to trust me”, he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve never lied to you. Not about us, not about anything. Why would I start now? Why would I risk everything we have for… for her?”.

“I don’t know”, you whispered, the tears in your throat making it hard to speak. “I don’t know what to believe anymore”.

“Believe me”, he said firmly, his voice cracking with desperation. “Please, baby. You’re all I care about. Danneel’s just trying to get in your head. You can’t let her win. Don’t let her take this away from us”.

Your tears spilled over again, your heart aching at the raw pain in his voice. You knew Jensen wasn’t someone who let his emotions show easily, and hearing him like this only added to the storm inside you.

“I want to”, you admitted, your voice trembling. “I want to believe you so badly. But I feel so… lost, Jensen. Everything feels like it’s falling apart”.

“It’s not”, he whispered, his voice steadying slightly. “We’re not falling apart. I’m here, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you. Please”.

“I don’t know what to do”, you said softly, almost to yourself.

Jensen’s voice came through the line, gentle but resolute. “You don’t have to do anything. Just… let me come home and fix this. Let me prove to you that I’m telling the truth”.

Jensen's voice softened, his tone pleading yet firm. "I’ll be home tomorrow. And we’ll talk, alright? I’ll explain everything—what happened in that picture, why it looked like that, and why the fuck I would never cheat on you. Especially not after buying a fucking house for us”.

As his words grew sharper toward the end, his voice cracked slightly, frustration and anger bleeding through. Before you could respond, he hung up abruptly, leaving you staring at your phone in stunned silence.

The sound of the call ending felt like a slap in the quiet room, and the weight of his last words lingered in the air. You could hear the raw emotion in his voice—his anger wasn’t just about the accusations but the sheer pain of hearing you doubt the foundation of your relationship.

You sank onto the couch in the living room, your head spinning. The way he’d hung up so quickly stung, but the guilt gnawed at you too. You hadn’t meant to say the words that hurt him so much. I don’t even know if there’s an us left. The second they’d slipped from your mouth, you’d wanted to take them back, but the damage was done. And it had clearly hit him harder than either of you had anticipated.

Now, all you could do was wait for tomorrow to come and hope that somehow, this conversation would bring clarity instead of tearing you apart further.

Meanwhile, on Jensen’s end, he slammed his phone onto the bed with more force than he intended. His chest heaved as he paced the room, running his hands through his hair in frustration. Your words replayed in his mind, cutting deeper every time. I don’t even know if there’s an us left.

“Fuck”, he muttered, his voice barely audible as he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. His hands cradled his face as he tried to steady his breathing. The idea of losing you—of everything you’d built together slipping away—was unbearable.

The next day couldn’t come fast enough for him. For now, all he could do was cling to the hope that he’d be able to fix this when he saw you. And that you’d still be willing to let him try.

The next day began the same way the last few had: with your stomach rebelling against you. You knelt over the toilet, weak and exhausted, your body trembling from the effort. By the time the nausea passed, you were too drained to do anything but sit on the bathroom floor for a few moments, letting the cool tiles press against your skin.

Eventually, you made your way to the kitchen. The clock on the wall read just past noon, and you realized you hadn’t eaten anything substantial in days. You poured yourself a small bowl of oats, hoping something plain and gentle might stay down. You managed two spoonfuls before your stomach churned violently again, the sensation threatening but not enough to send you rushing back to the bathroom.

You pushed the bowl aside, leaning back in your chair with a hand resting on your stomach. The restlessness gnawed at you, a mix of nerves and the undeniable physical discomfort that had become your new normal. You glanced at the clock again, the minutes dragging impossibly slow as you waited for Jensen’s arrival.

The thought of facing him made your chest tighten. There were so many things to say, questions to ask, but you weren’t sure where to start. Could you even bring yourself to tell him about the tests? About what those two lines meant? Would he even believe you, after the accusations and the growing distance?

———————————

A/N: Well, there we go, lol. Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 37

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