#g od PLEASE help

[awkward-walking-potato]

Just looking through some of your work and MA'AM. Not to be a straight woman, but oh m y god ohm yg od oh my g od-

So prompt: Logan is pretty good at casual possessive gestures. I wanna read a reaction to reader's possessive gestures towards him.

I'm thinking hand on thigh, hand on waist, staring, putting space between someone else and him, sky's the limit

You could make it a 5+1 format (I am a sucker for those)

Five Times You Were Possessive of Logan, and the One Time He Was Possessive of You

1. Hand on His Thigh

The first time it happens, it’s completely unplanned. You’re at the bar, sitting next to Logan as the two of you chat with some friends. He’s his usual stoic self, gruff but present, the warmth of his body a comforting presence next to you. As the conversation continues, you notice someone across the room eyeing Logan with more interest than you’re comfortable with.

Without thinking, your hand moves to rest on his thigh under the table. The action is instinctive, a way to ground yourself and subtly remind whoever’s watching that Logan isn’t available. The moment your fingers curl around the muscle of his leg, you feel him tense ever so slightly, the briefest hitch in his breath. He doesn’t say anything, just glances down at your hand before looking back at you with a raised eyebrow.

You offer him a small, almost shy smile, as if to say, This okay?

Logan’s lips twitch into the barest hint of a smirk, and his large, rough hand covers yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. He doesn’t move your hand away, doesn’t ask any questions. But there’s a look in his eyes that’s both amused and a little bit surprised, like he’s pleased with your boldness.

He leans in close, his voice low in your ear. “You don’t gotta worry, darlin’. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

2. Hand on His Waist

The next time it happens, it’s at a crowded event. Some kind of gathering at Xavier’s that’s brought in mutants and allies from all over. You and Logan have been mingling for a while, but the room is packed, and you find yourself getting separated from him as people move between you.

You spot him across the room, chatting with Jean and Scott, and feel an inexplicable urge to be close to him. Navigating through the crowd, you slip between the bodies until you reach his side, where you slide your hand around his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

Logan stiffens slightly, glancing down at you with an unreadable expression. For a second, you worry that you’ve overstepped, but then his arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you close against his side. He continues the conversation without missing a beat, but you notice the subtle way he shifts his stance, positioning himself just a bit more protectively between you and the crowd.

His hand lingers on your shoulder long after the conversation ends, thumb tracing idle circles against your skin.

3. Staring

It’s been a long day, and you’re sitting in the common room, watching Logan across the space. He’s talking with Ororo, something serious by the look on their faces. You know it’s important, that they’re discussing something related to the latest mission, but you can’t help the way your eyes linger on him.

He’s all rough edges and raw power, yet there’s something about him that’s magnetic, something that draws you in despite the gruff exterior. Maybe it’s the way he’s always so intensely himself, unapologetically so, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention—like you’re the one thing in the world that makes sense to him.

You realize you’ve been staring when Ororo glances over at you and raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Logan follows her gaze and finds you looking right at him, your eyes soft, full of something you can’t quite name.

He tilts his head slightly, his gaze narrowing as if he’s trying to figure you out. For a moment, you think about looking away, but you don’t. You just keep staring, letting him see that he’s the only one in the room you care about.

Eventually, he huffs out a low chuckle, shaking his head before turning his attention back to Ororo. But he’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, and you can tell that he’s more focused on you than whatever they’re discussing.

4. Putting Space Between Him and Someone Else

It’s a lazy afternoon, the kind where everyone at the mansion is doing their own thing. You and Logan are sitting outside, enjoying the fresh air, when one of the younger mutants—someone new and a bit too eager—approaches him. They start talking, standing a little too close for your liking, and you can see the way Logan shifts uncomfortably.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re on your feet and moving towards them. Sliding yourself between Logan and the newcomer, you offer them a friendly smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Hey,” you say, cutting in smoothly. “Logan and I were just about to head out. Maybe you can catch him later?”

The newcomer looks a bit surprised, but they nod, glancing between you and Logan before backing off with a mumbled apology. You watch them leave, then turn to find Logan looking at you with an expression that’s both amused and impressed.

“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” he teases, but there’s a warmth in his tone that tells you he doesn’t mind one bit.

You shrug, trying to play it off. “Just didn’t like the way they were crowding you.”

Logan’s smirk widens, and he reaches out to pull you close, his hands resting on your hips. “Gotta admit, I kinda like it when you get all protective.”

5. Hand on His Chest

The fifth time is more deliberate. You’re out on a mission, tensions running high as you and Logan work together to neutralize a threat. When it’s finally over, you’re both exhausted, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

As the team regroups, one of the other mutants—someone who’s always been a bit too friendly with Logan—sidles up to him, laying a hand on his arm as they talk. You feel a sharp pang of something hot and possessive in your chest, and before you can second-guess yourself, you’re right there beside him.

You place your hand on his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath your palm, and lean in closer than necessary. “You alright, Logan?” you ask, your voice laced with concern.

Logan’s eyes flicker with surprise, but then he smiles, his hand covering yours as he nods. “Yeah, I’m good,” he replies, his gaze never leaving yours.

The other mutant quickly excuses themselves, and Logan turns his full attention to you. “You know,” he says, his voice low, “I’m startin’ to think you don’t like sharin’.”

You give him a sly grin. “Maybe I don’t.”

Logan chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that sends shivers down your spine. “Good,” he murmurs, pulling you even closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “’Cause I don’t either.”

Logan’s Turn

The one time Logan decides to return the favor, it catches you completely off guard.

You’re in the kitchen, chatting with Bobby as you wait for your coffee to brew. The conversation is light, filled with jokes and teasing banter. Bobby’s always been a bit of a flirt, but it’s harmless, and you’re laughing at something he’s said when Logan walks in.

Before you can even greet him, Logan is suddenly right behind you, his arm wrapping possessively around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. You can feel the solid heat of him, the way his grip is firm, almost claiming. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “What’s so funny?”

Bobby’s eyes widen slightly as he takes in the scene, and you can see the flash of understanding in his expression. “Uh, nothing, man. Just talking.” Bobby backs away with a nervous chuckle, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll, uh, catch you later.”

As Bobby quickly exits the kitchen, you turn to look up at Logan, still caught in his embrace. There’s a look in his eyes that’s both playful and intense, and you realize with a start that he’s the one feeling possessive now.

“Logan?” you ask, a bit breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

He just grunts, the sound more of a satisfied hum than anything else, and his hand tightens on your waist. “Just didn’t like the way he was lookin’ at you,” he admits gruffly, but there’s a hint of vulnerability in his voice, like he’s not used to feeling this way.

A slow smile spreads across your face as you lean into him, your own hand finding its way to his chest, fingers tracing the familiar contours. “Guess we’re both a little possessive, huh?”

Logan huffs out a low laugh, his gaze softening as he looks down at you. “Yeah,” he agrees, his voice rumbling against your skin. “But I’m not complaining.”

You stand there together, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away as you both realize just how much you mean to one another. In that moment, it doesn’t matter who’s being possessive or why—what matters is that you belong to each other, and neither of you would have it any other way.

[ghoastixx]

Would these slashers make you take your meds? ageless and g/n reader

Includes: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Bubba Sawyer, Nubbins Sawyer, Chop-Top Sawyer, Drayton Sawyer, Billy Lenz, Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly, Billy Loomis & Stu Macher, Michael Myers (RZ), Carrie White, Hannibal Lecter & Will Graham, Brahams Heelshire, The lost boys

Content included: pills obviously though not specified, mentions of OD, urging to not take your meds (take your meds guys please), bad behavior, shame (kind of??)

Authors note: guys oml take your medicine don't listen to the murders. This is a work of fiction, your meds are here to help you. Trust me, I know it is a pain to take and or remember to take them, but they do help. Take them.

Inspired by me forgetting to take my medicine last night :(

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bo Sinclair

yeah, Bo would make you take your meds

"I already have to deal with running this whole town, don't make me run your medicine schedule."

I don't think he'd care much, but he gets pissy if you don't tell him when you are in need of a refill soon and wait til last minute so he has to go into town THAT DAY, he gets so mad about it

"Don't even try that 'I forgot' shit again,"

He just needs someone else sane around here

overall 7/10 he keeps you straight but lets you regulate yourself

Vincent Sinclair

Yes, and gets serious about it

He knows exactly how many refills you have, how many are in your bottles, how many milligrams, all of it

Only because he cares though

He will let you deal with it yourself, but he always makes sure to check at least once a day to see if you did

Whether it's shaking your bottle like a bag of cat treats or passing you a little note, he knows that it is important that you stay on them.

10/10 really nice about it, just wants you safe

Lester Sinclair

"If we gotta pay for 'em, you're takin' 'em"

I think that sums it up pretty well

5/10, never checks but gets upset about it

Bubba Sawyer

Not sure if he entirely understands

He would eventually come to the connection that days you take them are better than days that you do not,

If you explain it to him, he will definitely make sure to check in.

He would urge you to take them, but that's about it, it's more so just a thing in your busy lives.

3/10, you could get away with not taking them

Nubbins Sawyer

Let me hold your hand as I say this, he thinks that if you don't take them, you will die.

He just kind of has the connection that medicine = sickness, no matter how many times you try to explain it to him

He gets so scared

please don't do that to him

He will watch you take them please just take them sweetie

"Are you going to die-"

10/10 please he's shaking

Chop-Top Sawyer

He understands and does not give a shit whether you take them or not

He gets his own prescriptions from the VA hospital and Drayton keeps them locked up and regulated because he's convinced Chop would overdose or snort them,

not that Drayton cares, he just has too much going on.

"Shit, you don't wanna take 'em? Give 'em to me, I'll take 'em for ya, now we're both happy."

Don't do that

Drayton will know

1/10 will eat them like tic tacs for you

Drayton Sawyer

"Don't take 'em, I don't believe in that woke shit anyways."

Once he sees your doing worse though? He's singing a different tune

"Come on sugar, I'm already dealing with enough loonatics"

he didn't mean it that way I swear

He gets paranoid that you're gonna give them to Chop so he locks them up with his and you both go to him each morning and bat your eyelashes as he unlocks the cabinet and counts them out for you like an old man

8/10 you can't go wrong with it

Billy Lenz

Hell no

Bro doesn't even take his own medicine are you kidding?

He actively avoids his medicine, left them all at the facility

If you want to take them though, he could care less, but he also sort of urges you not to

he's a dick like that

Lowkey wants to get experimental with it

"h-how would B-Billy's p-piggy react if I m-mixed them with the others piggys pills?" meanwhile he's like drooling and shaking

hit him

don't let him poison you like that babe

I feel like though that he'd be a dick and when shaking Claude's treat bag he'd shake your bottle like they were treats

again hit him with a frying pan, you deserve better treatment then this

-5/10 I would lose my mind

Otis Driftwood

He doesn't believe in medicine unless he has a hangover or HE'S the sick one

Kind of like Drayton he wouldn't care if you didn't wanna take them unless you start causing him problems,

he wouldn't be as nice about it though

"You want me to shove them down your throat? Huh? That what you want? Didn't think so."

Just save yourself the trouble and take them

1/10 I would cry I think

Baby Firefly

Unpopular opinion, she'd get you to take them

I feel like if you're cool enough that she's noticing you not taking your meds? She cares about you. She's not just gonna let you ruin yourself

that's her job

"Hey sweetheart, got you this spoon of peanut butter, totally not anything suspicious."

sometimes you have to do what you have to do

She would trick you into it

"Well you ain't any fun if you're just... having a bad day."

7/10 her heart is in the right place

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher

They both would be pretty adamant about it

Billy gets all worried that this could somehow lead to them getting caught

Stu cares more about how it's affecting you

I feel like if they found out you weren't taking them, they'd have a sit down talk with you about it

Billy would make a schedule, he seems like a schedule guy

Stu would probably work in bribes or do what I like to do and chant "SHOT SHOT SHOT" with your chaser

10/10 pretty simple not much to write home about

RZ Michael Myers

he doesn't care

after all the different meds he was pumped with? He doesn't want that for you

he doesn't understand that they could help you

he 'loses' them for you

0/10 the worst, take your meds guys they aren't bad

Carrie White

she gets worried, poor thing

"If they weren't meant to help you, the doctors would not have given them to you."

will hold your hand through it

she doesn't really understand why you struggle with it, but she is supportive about it nonetheless

"medicine is here to help us :)"

11/10 I love her

Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham

you're in troubleeeee

Will freaks tf out

He just knows how beneficial medicine can be and this is very irrational to him

Hannibal being a literal psychiatrist isn't very pleased with you

he finds ways to like cook them into food or hide them

??/10 I didn't know really what to do with this one

Brahms Heelshire

He doesn't really understand why you're so against taking them

Isn't medicine here to help us?

He gets upset cause how are you supposed to take care of him if you're having a bad day?

8/10 picks up on it so fast

The Lost Boys

Will make you a vampire so you don't have to take meds

[megapteraurelia]

bokuto x f!reader. mutual masturbation.

mewls echoed through the locker bathroom, faint cheering and the sounds of other post-game celebrations still echoing somewhere down the hall. bokuto's low groans mingled there too, sounds slipping from him, part laugh and part something so incredibly needy as his fist wrapped the lace of your panties around his heated cock.

"did you see that cross?" he asked, breathless, his hand squeezing, "i-in the third set, with the fake-out — did you see it, baby? did you?"

his grin was wonky, carefree expression mingling with the pathetic drawing of his eyebrows together as he didn't know what to focus on — whether to look at your bared throat as you tilted your head back with a throaty moan, or how pretty your ruined underwear looked hugging his throbbing fat dick, or whether he should look down at the way your hips moved, grinding against his thigh, your slick pussy drooling all over the material of his knee pads, the way your puffy clit caught the edge of it, kissing the sliver of his skin peeking out.

he flexed his muscle, ass raising up to meet you halfway when you were too late in answering; his other hand — that wasn't fucking his cock dumb — digging into your flesh to roll your hips down.

"you— you were so, ah, kou, oh god, g-good," your flushed face, wet lips looked so enticing, bokuto's hand stuttered on his dick, tip leaking as his breath caught. a grin widened on his face, heat and sweat and golden-eyed excitement digging into you.

"yeah. i mean— it felt good, like, really, really go..od…" he trailed off with his words when your nails came down to grip his biceps and your hips sped up, continuously rubbing against the edge of the pads, and oh, there were little strings of pearly creamy juice connecting your cunt to the material and heat rushed through him so fast, he bit his own tongue.

"b-but i wanted to know what, hah," a groan escaped him at the sloppy hole his fist formed, the way his swollen head slipped through his fingers, "what you thought. like, did it…look — ah, fuck, fuck — cool?"

from your waist down your hips, he helped guide you, helped keep the pace that made your thighs tense and breathy moans become all high-pitched and loud the way he liked his cheers to sound. his eyes were wide, glassy with awe, mouth continuing to mumble, "i thought about you, y'know, when— when i landed that spike. i was like— 'she's watching, kou, don't, nghh, don't mess it up.'"

"you didn't, you didn't, you didn—"

your orgasm hit you out of nowhere, seizing you from your toes to your thighs, your stomach squeezing, back arching into him, mouth falling open, eyes fluttering, and his knee pads felt so smooth and silky underneath your pussy, drowned in your arousal. bokuto's large hand was splayed all over your ass as he moved your body for you now, tugging you down and down and down, against the bulge of his thigh, kissing the hair on his legs with your pussy lips, until you quivered and pushed against the sweaty jersey hugging his chest tightly to make him stop.

he didn't.

"say it again," he pleaded, voice breaking and you almost didn't hear him through the sloppy fucking of his fist and the rushing of blood through your ears, but he repeated himself anyway, "say it, hah, say it, please."

"y-you didn't mess up, you were soo good— kou, i can't p-please plea-hease—"

a desperate bokuto was dangerous with this hunger glinting his eyes as he continued wrenching every little drop out of you to coat his thigh. he had took your hand from you, too, wrapped it around his panties-clad cock, his bigger hand encasing yours to move. his brows were knit together, wide eyes intense, lips parted and trembling slightly and when he spoke, his voice was a whine now, half-begging, half-stuttering.

"i saw you in the s-stands afterwards, and i wanted a t-time out soooo badly, because—" bucking up, your panties were catching all the hot trickling of his cum spurting out, and he kept talking whilst releasing his spill all over both of your hands, "i was so, ah, so hard and i wanted to, ngh fu-huck— show the entire stadium h-how bad i was throbbing."

"k-kou—"

a hard knock against the door; and slowly, other voices filled out the locker room, low and far away, but bokuto was still fucking up into your hand, head tilted back, eyes focused on you and only you — even when a silky voice cut through.

"oi! what's takin' ya so long in there? bathroom's not a damn love hotel, bokuto!"

hinata's voice, high-pitched and panicked, chimed in, too, breathless as if he was running around, trying to hold it in, "yeah, i really need to pee!!"

TAGLIST | @takes1 ; @classicalelephant ; @pomigranit ; @reignpage ;

special thank you to @sodaneko for holding me on gun point and forcing me to write bokuto and thigh riding

[teddursa]

baby boy — 성훈 ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

PREC .ᐟ S : sunghoon wanted to be your good boy for a long time, his pervy thoughts just had to be released at one point.

𝓅 arings. perv!sunghoon x reader

🎀 .ᐟ 𝓌 arnings — smut. talks of breeding. s reader was sleeping . dirty talk. dub:non - con. dirty talk. mommy/good boy talk. lmk if i’m missing anything else ⋆⑅˚₊

☥🐾 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪ - authors note : hii! it’s hana ♡ this us just a short thought but i hope you guys enjoy, im trying to get better at writing so 💝

but sunghoon couldn’t hold back anymore. it was pitch black in the room, his cock hard in his pants. begging to be released and touched by your soft tiny hands. you were sleeping so softly just 15 feet away from him. but sunghoon couldn’t do it anymore. he got up quietly making his way over to your bed, peeking over your shoulder to make sure you were actually asleep. His fingers softly touching the blanket to not scare you away, he lifted up the blanket. your soft body on display for him. “f-fuck” his cock spewing up precum just from this purely innocent view. he made his way in between your legs, placing himself just centimeters from your tight pussy that he had been dreaming off for months now.

he moved your lacy panties to the slide, grabbing his cock in hand jerking off a bit before sliding it in. a whimper coming from his mouth. he slowly moved to not wake you, his thrust were soft at first, but your tight pussy felt so good around his cock. sunghoon couldn’t control himself, his need for your taking over as he started to fuck you faster.

“s-sunghoon?” you whimpered as you stirred awake — “fuck! sunghoon what are you doing!?” you started to panic realizing what was really going on. his thrust started to speed up as the panicking was making you tighter around him. “y/n.. fuck your so cute when you sleep, i couldn’t help myself- fuck! please let me do this momm-“ his word slurred as he thrusted.

each thrust is harder than the last. you swear his cock is going to split you in half. who would’ve thought a nerd who spends his days inside doing god knows what, has such a good cock. his thrust were starting to become sloppy. “g-od, sunghoon! fuck i’m gonna cum please keep going for mommy fuck!” you moaned out loudly. your nails gripping onto his back, scratching his back.

he whimpered into your ear. saying all of his dirty secrets into your ear;

“i love you mommy… i wanted to fuck this pussy since the day i saw you”

“i would do anything for you please don’t be mad at me…”

“g-god mommy pleas-e let me breed you… i can’t keep it in! fuck mommy please let me make you a mommy i promise i’ll do anything for you”

as he slurred his words into your ear, his thrust started to speed up. you felt yourself getting near your orgasm. “your such-such a good boy baby, cum inside me! fuck sunghoon make me a mommy- breed me” your words being the last thing he needed as he dumped his warm load into your pussy.

he sighed as he fell onto your chest. “i love you y/n,, im sorry i couldn’t stop myself.” you giggled as you kissed him gently on his forehead as you held him in your arms.

little did he know you were just as pervy as him. having a album of pictures of him & those countless nights of fucking yourself on a dildo moaning and screaming his name out.

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ : tysm for reading pls lmk if you had any requests or tips. 💝🐾

[dreammeiser]

The Ko-Fi and its memberships are live :o)

If you'd like to support DAWM and its team, please take a look at our Ko-Fi, all support and shares are greatly appreciated! 💖🌈

Right now we are prepping to gather materials for our puppets :oD

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[bullet-prooflove]

Oh I love a nsfw alphabet! And I've just finished the pitt and I'm having Langdon withdrawals already lol so perfect timing!

For Frank and Ivy, could I please request c, g, h, p and z ❤️

c = camera; who likes to send nudes to the others? have they ever made a sex tape - would they ever?

Ivy sends nudes to Frank but they’re not full on, it’s more like suggestive pictures. Frank has a massive kink for her in stockings. He loves the sight of them, running his hands up and down them, taking them off with his teeth so she tends to send images like:

 A photo of her from the back so he can see the seam line running up the her calves and thighs.

Slipping her nyloned feet into a pair of fuck me heels.

The lace tops against her bare thighs.

A video of her crossing her legs, because the sound of the stockings rubbing is like ASMR for his dick.

He gets anyone of these and he’s dropping whatever the fuck he’s doing and turning up.

They have never made a video together because Frank hates the idea of watching it back.

g = good; is praise something that’s used often? who does it have the biggest effect on?

Frank is still a little insecure esp in the aftermath of his addiction. He knows he fucked up majorly and praising him helps to build his confidence and sense of self-worth back up when it comes to their relationship. He craves that sense of validation and reassurance.

h = horny; who gets turned on the easiest/most often? how do they show it?

Frank is constantly turned on by Ivy and it can be the simplest things. Verbal sparring, catching a glimpse of her tattoos, the way she bites the end of the pen when she’s thinking. All of those things get his blood going.

If their alone, it’s by putting his hands on her waist and whispering something filthy in her ear. The press of his chest against her back, his lips chasing up the curve of her throat, nipping that little spot beneath her ear takes her zero to sixty.

p = place; where do they like to have sex? what’s a building/area that’s off limits for one reason or another?

Due to Frank’s ‘restrictions’  - in other words, the possibility of him losing his medical licence if he fucks up again, they keep bedroom antics in the house, usually at Ivy’s place. Ivy does not like staying over at Frank’s place because it gives her flashbacks to his OD. She found him in the bedroom and has not been in there since.

The hospital is completely off limits for the two of them. They’ve both seen some horrible shit in there, esp Ivy in her role as a SANE nurse, she can’t detach that from the hospital.

z = zealous; who’s most eager to please?

Frank will do absolutely anything for Ivy, especially if she’s in a pair of stockings. She doesn’t even have to ask, he’s already down on his knees, worshipping at her alter.

[murphysiblings]

🎓 student--raskolnikov

i swear to god if my landlord gives me any more shit im going to kill someone

#shut up rodia #vent

🎓 student--raskolnikov

oh my god

🎓 student--raskolnikov

what the fuck. what the fuck what the fuck

#my sister is getting engaged to some fucking douchebag #why???? she doesnt even like him they dont have ANYTHING in common #i dont understand #it doesnt make any sense this isnt like her at all #apparently she & my mom have some fucking. plan to ''help'' me by convincing him to let me work at his law firm #this isnt fair. she shouldnt be tying herself to some asshole she barely knows just for my sake #im not going to let this happen i cant have this happen #what kind of brother would i be to let this happen to her #god fuck you dunia why do you have to love me so much #fuck #i feel so guilty i dont know what to do #shut up rodia #vent

🎓 student--raskolnikov

ok u know what im gonna go on a walk i need to. calm down.

#shut up rodia

🎓 student--raskolnikov

??? theres a. drunk girl on the street. god she looks like 15 years old & some dude is perving on her. im gonna get him to fuck off

🎓 student--raskolnikov

a police officer got the guy to leave her alone & i even gave him money to get her a cab. why the fuck did i do that. i dont even care anymore. nothing matters. i hope everyone dies

#im such a shitty person just giving out money #my mom is taking that out her goddamn pention #shut up rodia #vent

🎓 student--rasknolnikov

ok uh. just as a hypothetical. if there was like. someone who took advantage of ppl & everyone hated would it be morally good to kill them

#i mean like . if society would be better off without them it shouldnt be a problem right #shut up rodia #rb for larger sample size please

🧹 lizavetaaaa

whhat the hell oh mmy god oh ny g;od

🧹 lizavetaaaa

my half sisster got fucickcing mur

💔 sadgirlsonia

liza ? what were u going to say ??? are u ok bestie???

#u havent replied to my dms pls im worried

[magic-shop-stories]

Hello! 💜

First of all I wanted to say I love your work! I see you put much effort into your writing and I am personally amazed by the amount of details and the variety od perspectives/situations you include in your headcanons. I don't think I've ever read fan headcanons in any fandom as long as yours and it's so exciting for me to dive into your blog and your thoroughly thought out works! It's like a whole damn feast 🧡

Also I was thinking about requesting OT7 headcanons with genderfluid afab partner? Or nonbinary afab partner?

Like for example, how would they react to their partner's coming out? Or them trying various types of clothing/haircuts, wearing binder etc? Or, something about their partner complaining about their ex who didn't accepted/liked that part about them so it made reader feel anxious about their identity/trying neglecting it to more "fit in". Or! Their partner's bad days when they feel insecure about their body parts and their looks?

I know you already included some genderqueer motifs in your previous bi/pan partner headcanons (which I love btw!!! 💜) but I would love to also see something more gender identity-focused! I hope it's not too specific, please compose it the way you feel it ('cause in the end you should have fun writing it too, right? 🥰), some angst/mature content is also very welcomed if you would like to add some!!!

Thank you for everything and I hope you're doing well! And sorry for such long ask! Much love 💜💜💜

BTS OT7 x Genderfluid/Nonbinary AFAB Partner Headcanons

Pairings: OT7 x Genderfluid/Nonbinary!Reader (Individual Scenarios) Rating: (P)G-13 Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life Warnings: discussions of dysphoria, past emotional abuse (non-graphic), misgendering, mild swearing, references to past toxic relationships and dysphoria

💌 Reply:

holy shit, that was long... AND I LOVED EVERY WORD OF IT. 💜 first of all, THANK YOU for this incredibly thoughtful ask. I’m so sorry this took a while (my ADHD and i had a journey), but your request was perfection... i hope these headcanons hit the mark! i did worry i accidentally leaned too much into the AFAB/“used to be female” angle in some parts (gender is a galaxy, and i never want to imply otherwise 😭 so if i mess up feel free to reach out!)... also please let me know if any tweaks would make it feel more affirming. your kindness and clarity in this ask was soooo nice... you’re a gem. thank you again for trusting me with this. you’re the sweetest, and i’m sending you universe-sized love. keep shining  🌈✨ – c –🧸💜 PS: it's 4 a.m. pls someone send me to bed

BTS OT7 x Genderfluid/Nonbinary AFAB Partner Headcanons

NAMJOON

COMING OUT

"THE NOTE LEFT BETWEEN PAGES"

Scenario

you leave your journal open on his desk

half-finished entry about your shifting identity open

“Some days, ‘she’ feels like a sweater that doesn’t fit. Other days, I want to burn the closet entirely.”

His Reaction

doesn’t confront you immediately

spends hours researching genderfluidity

bookmarking essays by Alok Vaid-Menon

saving posts from nonbinary activists

slides a letter under your door (three days later)

“To My Favorite Mystery, I’ve been reading about constellations—how they’re just stories we tell about the stars. You’re like that - a story that changes with the night. I don’t need to ‘understand’ it to love the way it shines.Whenever you’re ready, I’d like to learn your pronouns. Until then, I’ll call you ‘beloved.’— Joon”

Aftermath

you find him reorganizing his bookshelf

he's creating a new section titled “Queer Theory & Other Truths.” 

glances at you

dimples flashing 

“Figured we could study together.”

CLOTHING/BINDERS

"THE ARMOR HE HELPED FORGE"

Scenario

your old binder is fraying at the seams

you’ve been too anxious to replace it

Namjoon notices during a lazy Sunday cuddle session

his fingers brushing the worn fabric

His Action

spends a week consulting trans-owned businesses

asking LGBTQ+ friends for recommendations

settles on a custom binder with a discreet inner pocket

presents it in a box lined with pressed flowers

“I'm not great with sizes, so… I measured your hoodies while you slept. Hope that’s not creepy.”

you model a sharp, androgynous suit

Namjoon’s breath hitches

“You look… dangerous. Like you could dismantle capitalism in that fit.”

Growth

starts using phrases like “gender euphoria” in interviews

crediting “someone who taught me language is a living thing.” 

ARMY speculates

you flush when he winks

EX TRAUMA

"THE GHOSTS HE EXORCISES"

Scenario

late-night confession

you admit your ex weaponized your identity

calling it “attention-seeking”

His Response

his calm cracks

he paces

muttering in English

“Ignorant. Small.”

writes a poem titled “The Anatomy of a Coward”

recites it at an underground slam

lines like “You feared their light because you’d forgotten how to spark” 

earning roaring applause

dedicates it to “everyone who’s been told they’re ‘too much.’”

Reassurance

finds your ex’s old hoodie

hidden in the back of your closet

burns it in the fireplace 

“Let’s feed the flames something worthy.”

BAD DAYS

"THE NIGHT HE HELD THE UNIVERSE"

Scenario

dysphoric spiral leaves you dissociating in front of the mirror

tracing hips you wish would vanish

His Care

Silent Solidarity

doesn’t say “You’re beautiful” 

just sits beside you

shoulder-to-shoulder

he whispers

“Bodies are just… rented spaces for the soul. Yours houses a supernova.”

Distraction Tactics

drags you to the Han River at 2 a.m.

reciting Whitman’s “Song of Myself”

you laugh at his dramatic gestures

“See? Even I feel awkward in this flesh sometimes.”

Legacy of Love

carves “You Are Enough” into a birch tree

“Now it’s legally binding. The forest says so.”

[P.S. He's the type that would 100% write a dissertation on gender theory just to see you smile...]

JIN

COMING OUT

"THE KIMCHI CONFESSION"

Scenario

you blurt it out mid-bite of his homemade kimchi jjigae

words tumbling loose after a glass of soju

“Jin, I… I don’t think I’m a girl. Not always, anyway.”

His Reaction

he freezes

ladle suspended over the pot

grins, wide and warm

“Yah, took you long enough! I’ve been calling you ‘my person’ in interviews for months.”

refills your bowl

voice softening

“But seriously… thank you for trusting me. Now, pronouns? I’ve got a Jin-ius guide to gender in my notes app.”

Aftermath

next morning, he texts you

“Daily Reminder 🔔:1. Coffee’s brewed ☕2. You’re iconic 🌟3. Let’s update your contact name! 👑”I will settle on “Worldwide My Person.”

CLOTHING/BINDERS

"THE RUNWAY HYUNG"

Scenario

you eye a tailored suit in a boutique window but hesitate

“What if I look… silly?”

His Action

drags you shopping

declaring himself your “stylist, hype man, and selfie photographer” 

throws blazers, silk shirts into the mix

also a very questionable neon bucket har

“Trust hyung! You’ll slay and blind haters.”

notices your old binder digging into your ribs

“Yah, we’re upgrading!” 

buys three new binders in secret

each wrapped like a luxury gift

“This one’s for dates, this one’s for naps, and this one’s for overthrowing capitalism.”

hosts a “Fashion Show Extravaganza” in your living room

struts in a matching suit

snapping pics for his “JIN & CO.” Instagram highlight

caption: “Main Character Energy 💅 (They/them slay).”

wears a dress for you

showing he doesn't care about your choice of clothes

Growth

starts a TikTok series: “Queer Fashion with Jin!” 

featuring your outfits

fans lose their minds over the episode titled “How to Rock a Binder Like a Supermodel.”

EX TRAUMA

"THE RAMYEON RANT"

Scenario

you mention your ex’s “Why can’t you just be normal?” comment over late-night ramyeon

Jin’s chopsticks snap

His Response

“Normal? Normal is boring! Normal is unseasoned tofu!” 

slams his fist

gently, because the table is expensive

“You’re spicy! You’re kimchi in a world of plain rice!”

sends your ex a anonymous delivery of extremely spicy noodles

“Enjoy the heat, trash human.”

takes you to a LGBTQ+ pride festival

dressed as genderbent Disney princes

“We’re both Cinderella now. Let’s traumatize every pumpkin.”

BAD DAYS

"THE SELF-CARE SAGA"

Scenario

dysphoria hits hard

you cancel plans

curled up in his hoodie

hating the curves even fabric can’t hide

His Care

busts in with a “Jin’s Euphoria Kit”

face masks, a karaoke mic, tub of cookie dough

“Step 1: Sing Born This Way. Step 2: Eat feelings. Step 3: Profit.”

when the laughter fades, he cups your face

“You know what’s sexy? Existing. You know what’s not? Anyone who says otherwise.”

bakes a cake shaped like a binder

iced with “UR A SNACK.” 

lets you smash it

“Stress relief and dessert? Hyung’s a genius.”

[P.S. Would 100% fight a homophobe with a spatula while quoting RuPaul’s Drag Race]

YOONGI

COMING OUT

"THE UNSPOKEN UNDERSTANDING"

Scenario

you mention offhandedly that you’ve started using they/them pronouns online

Yoongi pauses mid-sip of coffee

nods once

“Noted.”

next morning, casually corrects a barista who calls you “miss”

“They’ll take an iced americano.”

His Reaction

quietly bookmarks a guide to nonbinary identities on his phone

finds your preferred pronouns scribbled in his studio notebook weeks later

“They/them. Ask if today’s different.”

grumbles over late-night ramen

“You know I’m shit with words. But if anyone gives you hell, tell me. I’ll make their life a diss track.”

you find a new keyboard shortcut on his laptop

“Ctrl+Y” autocorrects “she” to “they.” 

you tease him?

he shrugs

“Efficiency. Don’t overthink it.”

CLOTHING/BINDERS

"THE PRACTICAL PROTECTOR"

Scenario

you mention offhandedly that your binder feels restrictive during long days

Yoongi disappears into his studio for hours

emerging with a list of trans-owned brands and a gruff 

“Pick one. My treat.”

His Action

buys two binders

one in your size

one slightly larger “for lazy days” (idk if it makes sense tho? help me, i own binders but i am shit at this)

leaves them on your dresser with a sticky note

“Breathe. Please.”

you model a boxy, oversized hoodie

Yoongi glances up from his laptop

eyes lingering

“You look… comfortable. Good.” 

later adds:

“Hot, too. Obviously.”

Growth

starts keeping a first-aid kit in his studio with ace bandages and ice packs “for emergencies” 

you don’t ask what “emergencies” means (but you know he saw the bruises you had before getting new binders)

EX TRAUMA

"THE FURY IN SILENCE"

Scenario

you confess your ex mocked your identity

calling it “cringe” 

Yoongi’s jaw clenches

“Name. Now.” 

you refuse

he spends the night pacing the studio

composing a track titled “Small Minds (Die Loud).”

His Response

samples your laughter into the song’s bridge

releases it anonymously (at first)

fans call it “a masterpiece of rage”

drags you to a cat café

“You’re not ‘cringe.’ You’re just… not for weak-hearted bitches.”

Aftermath

finds your ex’s Spotify playlist (he is still using your account)

adds the diss track to it

“Algorithm justice” 

he smirks

you kick your ex off the account

BAD DAYS

"THE ANCHOR IN THE STORM"

Scenario

dysphoric episode leaves you staring blankly at the mirror

hands trembling

Yoongi wordlessly tosses his hoodie at you

“Too big for me. Looks better on you anyway.”

His Care

sits with you on the bathroom floor

shoulder pressed to yours

plays a soft piano melody on his phone

“Minuet in G” the first major song he ever learned

Growth

starts leaving post-its on the fridge

“Drink water.”  “You’re a badass.”  “Fuck mirrors.”

[P.S. Yoongi’s love language is 10% grumbling, 90% burning the patriarchy and haters for you.]

J-HOPE

COMING OUT

"THE DANCE OF TRUTH"

Scenario

you blurt it out mid-dance practice

breathless and sweaty after a particularly intense routine

“Hobi, I...I think I’m genderfluid.” 

he freezes, still in a squat position

tilts his head like a confused puppy

His Reaction

grabs your hands and spins you into a gentle waltz without a word 

“Fluid, huh? Like water?”

dips you dramatically

“Water can be a storm, a ripple, a tsunami. That’s badass.”

gifts you a prism necklace

“To catch all your colors. Even the ones you’re still finding.”

Aftermath

choreographs a duet titled “Fluid Motion”

your movements defy gendered roles

sometimes leading, sometimes following, always in sync

“This isn’t performance art. It’s us.”

CLOTHING/BINDERS

"THE FASHION SHOW OF SELF"

Scenario

you tentatively ask to borrow his clothes for a day

Hobi’s eyes light up like you’ve handed him a Grammy

His Action

drags you to his wardrobe

throwing sequined jackets, oversized hoodies, and silk scarves at you

“Try everything! Gender is a free vibe, baby!”

notices you eyeing his compression shirts

“Wait...these aren’t safe for binding.”

orders you a custom rainbow binder with “Hope World” embroidered inside

“Now your heart matches your soul.”

asks“What’s today’s theme?” each morning

styles you accordingly

on they/them days insists on matching neon tracksuits

“We’re twin flames! Literally!”

Growth

starts a series called “Fashion Without Borders” 

showcasing gender-neutral looks

fans notice you modeling in every episode

EX TRAUMA

"THE SHADOW HE DISMANTLES"

Scenario

your ex’s voice echoes during a vulnerable moment

“You’re just confused. Pick a lane.”

His Response

drags you to a dance studio

“Confused? Let’s get confused.” 

blasts Lady Gaga and freestyles wildly

pulling you into a chaotic, cathartic routine

“See? This is a lane. We’re drifting!”

dedicates his next solo stage to you

screen flashes “LOVE HAS NO LANES”

vogues in a sequined binder

breaks the internet

Reassurance

writes “You’re My North Star” on your palm before bed

“Even stars flicker. I’ll love every spark.”

BAD DAYS

"THE LIGHT HE RELIGHTS"

Scenario

dysphoria hits hard

you cancel plans

burrowing into bed

Hobi arrives with a backpack labeled “Emergency Joy Kit.”

His Care

blasts “Candy” and does the choreography at 200% energy until you snort-laugh

“Dysphoria can’t survive this much cringe!”

gives you a “Glow Up” makeover

glitter beard, gemstone eyeliner

just whatever feels right

“You’re a goddess. No, a god. Wait..uhhh.”

creates a “Euphoria Playlist” 

filled with songs about self-love

sings along off-key

grabbing your hands

“If you can’t dance yet, let me dance for you.”

Legacy of Love

paints a mural in your bedroom

= a phoenix rising with “Rebirth is a Daily Choice” beneath it

“For mornings when the mirror lies.”

[P.S. Hobi’s love language is 50% glitter, 50% hype-man energy.]

JIMIN

COMING OUT

"THE WHISPER THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING"

Scenario

you tell him during a quiet night in

curled up on his lap after weeks of rehearsals

your voice shakes as you confess

“I don’t think I’m… just a girl.”

His Reaction

Jimin stills

pulls you closer

arms a vise of warmth

“Thank you for trusting me...”

murmurs into your hair

later sends a voice note

“I’ve been thinking… I want to love you right. Teach me how.”

spends the night researching

leaving tabs open on your shared laptop

“How to support a genderfluid partner,” “Pronouns 101.”

Aftermath

next morning greets you with a sleepy smile and a new necklace

a tiny pendant of the genderfluid flag

“So the world knows who you belong to.”

teases you but his eyes are serious

“And who belongs to you.”

CLOTHING/BINDERS

"THE GIFT WRAPPED IN GOLD"

Scenario

you’ve been eyeing a tailored suit for months but hesitate to splurge

Jimin notices (as he notices everything)

His Action

drags Taehyung to the boutique

describing your style in obsessive detail

“Tae, the shoulders need to sing. They’re a libra, okay? Balance is key.”

presents the suit in a velvet box

inside, a note

“Wear this, and watch me forget how to breathe.”

takes you dancing

matching your sharp lines with a silk shirt unbuttoned to his waist

“Let them stare...”

growls

spinning you under the lights

“You’re everything.”

Growth

starts tailoring his own stage outfits to complement yours

“Couple looks? Nah. This is soulmate couture."

EX TRAUMA

"THE SCARS HE KISSES BACK TO LIFE"

Scenario

you mention an ex who mocked your binder as “cute but pointless.” 

Jimin’s smile dies

His Response

“Where do they live? I just wanna talk.”

in fact does not just wanna talk

at a fansign, a fan calls you “Jimin’s girlfriend.” 

he corrects them sharply

“Partner. And they’re stunning, right?”

clip goes viral

Private Healing

tattoos your chosen name over his ribcage

“Now even my cells know who you are.”

BAD DAYS

"THE ALTAR HE BUILT IN YOUR HONOR"

Scenario

wave of dysphoria leaves you dissociating

staring blankly at the shower wall

Jimin finds you

water long gone cold

His Care

dries you with a heated towel

humming “Serendipity.” 

dresses you in his softest hoodie

“My clothes fit you better anyway.”

lights candles

massages your scalp with rose oil

“This body carried you to me. Let me worship it.”

texts the group chat: “Canceled today. My person needs me.” 

ignores the “😏” replies

Growth

starts a Notes app list

“100 Ways to Say ‘You’re Divine’ Without Words.” #1: Tracing the Venus symbol over your heartbeat

[P.S. Jimin would 100% start a gender-neutral skincare line called “Fluid Glow” just to watch you thrive]

TAEHYUNG

COMING OUT

"THE CANVAS OF TRUTH"

Scenario

you confess during a midnight walk through a neon-lit art district

voice trembling as you gesture to a mural of a faceless figure dissolving into rainbows

“That’s how I feel sometimes. Like I’m… everywhere and nowhere.”

His Reaction

Taehyung stops

tilts his head

pulls out his phone

for a heart-stopping moment, you think he’s distracted

he shows you a gallery of photos he’s secretly taken of you over the years

“This is you reading, scowling at coffee, laughing in the rain. You’re never nowhere. You’re… a thousand somewheres.”

grins, eyes crinkling

“And I want to love all of them.”

Aftermath

gifts you a polaroid camera the next day 

“Let’s document every version of you. Even the ones that feel blurry.”

first shot?

you mid-laugh, bathed in streetlight, with the mural as your backdrop

CLOTHING/BINDERS

"THE ARTIST’S MANNEQUIN"

Scenario

you hesitantly try on a binder with a cropped blazer

unsure of the androgynous look

Taehyung, who’s been “casually” sketching at the kitchen table, drops his charcoal

His Action

drags you to a vintage shop

pulling pieces off the rack like a curator.

“This velvet vest? Yes. These combat boots? Double yes.”

makes you strut down the aisle like a runway

stays up sewing a patchwork jacket with they/them embroidered inside the collar

“So you carry your truth even when you don’t say it.”

stages a photoshoot in a sunflower field

capturing your gender euphoria in golden-hour light

posts one shot anonymously: “Muse: Beyond Binary.”

Growth

starts a secret Instagram for your outfits

captioned with your favorite poetry snippets

you discover it when ARMYs DM you: “WHO IS THIS MYSTERY ICON??”

EX TRAUMA

"THE PAINT OVER PAIN"

Scenario

you mention your ex’s cruel jab:

"You’re just confused, pick a lane.” 

Taehyung’s playful grin fades

His Response

disappears into his studio

returns with a canvas splattered in black paint

“This is them.”

hands you a brush

“Now cover it with your colors.”

takes you to a bridge at dawn

makes you shout your name into the wind

then toss a rock labeled “EX’S OPINIONS” into the river

“Gone. Like that.”

paints your nails with tiny galaxies

“So every time they tried to shrink you, you remember you’re infinite.”

BAD DAYS

"THE MUSEUM OF SOFTNESS"

Scenario

dysphoria claws at you after a misgendering incident

you retreat to bed

curtains drawn

His Care

builds a pillow fort strung with fairy lights

projects Kiki’s Delivery Service onto the ceiling

“No talking. Just… exist with me.”

kneads dough for bibimbap wraps

guiding your hands to mold it

“Feel that? You’re shaping something real. Just like your heart.”

sketches you as a mythic creature

part human, part storm

writes beneath it

“This is how I see you. Uncontainable.”

[P.S. Tae would 100% paint your pronouns on his sneakers “for fun” and accidentally start a fashion trend]

JUNGKOOK

COMING OUT

"THE TEXT THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING"

Scenario

you send him a late-night text after weeks of anxiety

“I think I’m genderfluid. Some days ‘she’ feels wrong. Is that… okay?”

His Reaction

Jungkook reads it mid-workout

nearly dropping his dumbbell

replies immediately

“Ofc it’s okay. Wait... are you crying? Should I come over?” 

before you respond, he’s at your door

mismatched socks, hair sweaty, eyes wide

“I don’t get it yet.”

admits it

“ I’ll learn. Teach me?”

Aftermath

spends nights scrolling LGBTQ+ forums

saving posts like “How to Support a Genderfluid Partner.” 

you find his search history: “genderfluid vs nonbinary” “best pronouns to use” “how to not be a dumb boyfriend” 

prints a pronoun chart and tapes it to his fridge

“Hyung helped me color-code it...” 

CLOTHING/BINDERS

"THE MISTAKE THAT MADE HIM A HERO"

Scenario

you mention your binder feels tight

Jungkook, trying to help, throws it in the wash

too hot

shrinks it

His Action

races to Taehyung/ Jin for advice

“Hyung, I broke their soul armor! Fix it!”

drags you shopping

credit card in hand

“Pick five. No, ten. And this.” 

adds a leather harness to the pile

grinning

“For when you wanna feel like a rockstar.”

you model a binder under an open flannel

Jungkook stares

cheeks pink

“You look… dangerous. In a good way.”

Growth

learns to hand-wash binders

leaving them to dry next to his gym towels

“Priorities...”

EX TRAUMA

"THE NIGHT HE BECAME A SHIELD"

Scenario

you confess your ex mocked your identity

“You’re just confused.”

His Response

Jungkook slams his water bottle down

“Where do they live? I’ll educate them.”

traces your jaw

voice trembling

“You’re not confused. You’re… magic.”

tattoos a tiny genderfluid flag on his arm 

“So every time I look in the mirror, I remember to fight for you.”

BAD DAYS

"THE GYM SESSION THAT FIXED NOTHING (AND EVERYTHING)"

Scenario

dysphoria hits hard

you cancel plans

curled up in his hoodie

His Care

challenges you to a Just Dance marathon

“Winner picks dinner! Loser wears the binder!” 

he lets you win

finds you staring at the mirror

“Hey.”

stands behind you

hands hovering

“Can I…?” 

traces your shoulders (if you nod)

“This body carried you to me. That makes it perfect.”

builds a “Bad Day Kit”

= protein bars, weighted blanket, USB of his unreleased song “Euphoria (Your Version)”

[P.S. His love language is 50% gym selfies and 50% tearful vulnerability - but secretly.]

[totally-not-peter-parker]

ooc: oh my God I don't know what the hell is going on either, I've been scrambling to think of a way to get Peter involved

ooc: oh fuck, Peter's in The Lore??

[spilling-my-guts-to-you-guyss]

Is life really worth living...?

Ive been fighting my life with tnis question ringing through my mind, ive answered yes and no before. Ive acted upon my yes and nos before.

Lets admit it, life is fucking terribke. No one likes life. People exist out of tgeir own will and hate themselves. Tgey mentally degrade themselves, physically harmthemselves, and emotionally lock themselves up. I can testify fkr all three.

"But why? What about the joys in life?" There is no real joy in life.

Friemds come and stay sure. Some will go and some wjll fade. True friends will never leave, but those are rare to find, especially today.

Little things. Little things tgat once made me estatjc brought me joy. Luttle things that once brouggt me joy made me happy. Little things that made me happy dont make me happy anymore. Ive grown numb.

My mind has been paralyzed with fear ad doubt and anxieties od the world and dwpressing ideas. Failure was all i kmew, and the steuggle tk merely exist grew too much to bear. Ive thought about God, wondering if he coukd still help me. If he would welcome me with open arms jnto the iridescent gates of heaven.

I craved God and his love, but i grew impatient to recieve it. Life grew worse in returm, and so did my thoughts. I needed God, so i wantedn him right away.

"To die is gain" paul once said. Of course i thought so when preparing my suicide attempt, fkrgettjng the rest of the verse. Downing pills, all 55 of them, i thought of Him. Of God. Woukd he be mad if i were to arrive in heaven early? Woukd i even make jt to heaven? Was i... was i truly saved?

A christian shoukd never think of suicide, let alome put it into action. Yet there i was, lying in bed wkth a foggy mind, shutting my eues in hopes to be greeted by my creator in the next few momens.

Yet i didnt.

I awoke in pain.

Unbearable pain.

That night was the worst ive experienced, lying helplessly on the bathroom floor with tears in my eeyes, clutching myself in pajn. 4 times i threw up, all through the night.

A grounding pain.

I couldnt breathe.

I was in so much pain,

I called to God

"Im sorry... im so sorry"

And He listened.

"Please let me live.. ill give all my life, all of everything to yoh... i can try, im sorry"

And He listined again.

And im greatful for that. I never thought i woukd be, byt i am.

That night passed, the nexr day i was considered "sick" by my mom, unknowing of my attempt. So what if she didnt knoe.

God knew.

The next few months, self harming grew worse. But i told a friend, a close friend. I told her eberything. All my struggles and attempt and

And she listened

And she cared

She helped me.. she assisted me and affirmed me and gave me love.. whule still knowing my dark thoughts... my tendencjes and habits. Even now she still does. She is a very clos friend tgat will never leave me no matter what,

And friends like that are rare to find, especally today.

So back to the question- is life realky worth livi g? This stressful shitty life that no one truly gives a fuck for? That people kill themselves ocer? That people cut themselves over? That people cry and panic over?

No. Its not,

But

The real worth is those who care. The close friemds tgat are there for you no matter what. Magbe you have them, maybe you dont. If you dont, im terribly sorry. I hope you find someone like that.

So yeah i hate life. Yeah i still have suicidal thoughts. Yeah i still self harm. But guess what? I have people to help.

I have friends

I have close friemds.

I have God.

And He gives me hope.

Thank you for everything @theweirdbox123 . You truly mean the world to me.

As well as @the-ellia-west . Thank yoh so much for everything.

I love yoh all.

[resident-idiot-simp]

More criminal minds crossover ideas

Ft: @orcadork4ever

Od: His struggle with dilaudid and his mourning Emily and then the betrayal he felt when he found out she was alive and JJ helped her go into hiding came up first in my mind

Me: Oof imagine he just leaves for a while and hunkers down with the family. All while the BAU try to figure out where he went and if he was ok

Od:

The only person he contacts is Garcia. Just an “I’m okay and I’m safe. I just really need to be alone with family right now.”

To which he gets an “I understand. But aren’t we your family too?”

Me: They assume he means his mom which is kind of concerning because he probably need someone else as well

Wade sees him groaning into a pillow. “What’s wrong, Spence?” He shows him the texts and Wade hums while he sits on the couch and cards his hair. “Why don’t you have her come over, Firefox? You’ve been wanting to introduce your work fam to us for a while and you said it was hard not to mention us to her. I get being upset at everyone else, especially JJ and Prentis. But Pen’s always been there for you. She’s your sister.”

Me:

She's dubious of the location she was sent. She wasn't expecting to be sent to the middle of nowhere in prime murder country. She was even more surprised to pull up to the place and see a man chopping logs. A few yards away are three others in chairs soaking in the sun.

Spencer was one of them which was a big relief

Od: She’s even more confused when her cab driver also gets out of the car and goes to greet them.

She doesn't know what this think when the young lady and man chopping wood looks up.

The lady calls to the taxi driver "DOPINDER!" The taxi driver or she suppose Dopinder just smiles and waves. "Hello Laura.”

Od:

The other man laying next to Spencer gets up wearing a neon pink sun hat. “DOPINDER!” He comes over and hugs Dopinder.

“Hello DP, it is good to see you.”

The man is covered in what look like burn scars but he has the biggest smile on his face and expressive eyes. He pulls back from the hug and sees her, letting out an audible gasp as well as saying GASP out loud. “GASP! OMG, you must be Penelope! It is so good to finally meet you! Firefox has told us so much about you. I love that dress! Is it custom? Oh Em Gee! And are those black widow earrings?!”

“Wade, let her breathe, please,” Spencer came over to give her a hug. “Hey Garcia. Was the trip okay?”

Me:

She just stares blankly at them all. She didn't know what she experienced but it wasn't this.

The final two made their way over and they were unmistakably father and daughter.

She just hugged Spencer before waving at the others somewhat awkwardly

Od: “So, um, this is Logan, Laura, and Wade. They’re my main family outside of my mom. Dopinder is a family friend.”

She just blinks stupidly for a moment before offering out her hand to them. They each shake it Wade the moment enthusiastic.

She hadn't expected this in the slightest

Od:

“Logie Bear, would you bring Penelope’s bags in? The room next to Spence’s is set up.”

“I’ll grab them, Wade, no need to stop your Logan Show,” Spencer said, picking up Garcia’s bag and heading towards the cabin with her. Wade went back to his lounger and cat called at Logan when he picked up the axe again. “Hell yeah! Split ME like a log, Peanut!~”

Spencer sighed and shook his head, stopping my Laura for a moment and bunting their heads together. “What do you think? Axe to a limb or straight in the chest?”

Me:

Laura thinks for a moment, "Depends on how raunchy he gets with it....and how much he wants to clean the axe... My bets on the chest tho." She decides as she follows them inside.

There is another kid clonked out on the couch. Laura just shrugs and explains "That that's Peter. He comes around every now and again." Spencer humms in agreement.

By the time they put her stuff in her room and make it back out Logan has the axe held threateningly. Wade is continuing to gode him on

Od:

“I’m sorry are we just passively discussing homocide?!” Garcia could hardly believe was she was hearing.

The teen on the couch sat up with a groan and terrible bedhead. “Oh, Logan gonna kill Wade again? Or are they gonna fuck about it?”

Spencer groaned. “I hope the first and not the second. But if he pulls out the claws, it’s definitely the second.”

Laura snorted in agreement. “Well I’m not checking. You two at least can’t smell them when they get back.”

“I’ll check, hold on,” Peter got up from the couch and looked up at the second story windows overlooking the front yard. He shot a web up to a support beam and pulled himself up before crawling on the wall and peeking out. “Oh, nope. None of us were right. He cut his head off. Well, at least it’ll be quiet for a few hours.” He rappelled down by another web, hanging upside down and offering a hand to Garcia. “Hi! I’m Peter.”

“H-Hi… Y-You’re Spiderman.”

Me:

"Yep." Peter agrees easily as he flips back to the ground and stretches.

Spencer just chuckles as Garcia looks at him with wide unbelieving eyes, "What....what is this place Spence?" She asks at a loss.

Laura smiles showing off fangs and Spencer scratches at his neck nervously. "My family I got taken into years ago when I was a kid. Logan kinda saved me when I was really young and I've been one of his kits ever sense." He explained.

Peter just nodded along, "Yep Mr. Logan kinda picks up kids of all kinds. Wade does too. He has Neg, Yukio, Russell, and his daughter Ellie."

Garcia looks like she might faint.

Od:

“Garcia,” Spencer herded her to the couch. “Please don’t freak out.”

“Who’s freaking out? I’m not freaking out. It’s not like I just found out one of my best friends hangs out with mutant royalty and is family with them. Nope. That’s a totally normal thing and makes a lot of sense when I think about it. Dang it, I owe Rossi $20 for the “Is Spence a Mutant” bet.” She rambled as she worked through her shock, trying to process.

Me:

"I never said I was a mutant." Spencer pointed out

Garcia just stared at him, "Are you mutant?"

Spencer rolls his eyes, "Yes."

"As I said I owe Rossi $20." She reiterated.

Laura and Peter just laughed. Spencer just glared at them, "Oh you two shut it. She still doesn't know who Wade and Logan are." He groused.

Laura just raised a brow (God she was so much like her father) and did a fake bow, "Daughter of Wolverine and Deadpool at your service."

Peter just laughed harder as Garcia went bug eyed.

Od: She gaped at Spencer and smacked his arm. “So THAT’S how you got me those sold out Funkos on my desk signed!”

Spencer shrugged and averted his gaze. "Yeah well it was easy." He dismissed.

Garcia gave him a hard look but dropped it before turning to Peter, "I'll get a Spider-man one but you have to sign it." She tells him.

Peter still catching his breath just nods. Garcia pauses once more, "You mentioned others do they just come and go?" He asked.

Laura nods, "People are in and out of here constantly, and not just the kids. Vigilantees, civilians well kinda, X-Men, some Avengers." Laura lists off before frowning, "What do Weasel, Vanessa, and Dormot count as?" She asked the group.

Spencer hummed, "Dermot is the only one I would consider a civilian. Vanessa has a don't touch order in the underground and Weasel.... he's Weasel.”

Od: “The only humans are Dermot, Vanessa, Weasel and the Avengers,” Peter said. “Well, and now you and I’m assuming the rest of the BAU once Spence’s not mad at them.”

Garcia held up a hand, "Ok pause who exactly are Vanessa, Dermot, and Weasel?"

Laura smiles, "Vanessa is Wade's ex fiancé. She amazing and theirs no bad blood about it. It was a whole thing but she untouchable because the last time someone tried to hurt her a helicarrier exploded and a lot of people died. Wade wasn't too happy to say the least."

Garcia just looked bewildered.

"Dermot is her new boyfriend he's pretty cool and chill so he's welcome. Weasel runs the Merc bar we work out of and he's an arms dealer for the underground so he also kinda has immunity.....but forgot about that since....FBI and all...." Laura trails off.

Peter buts in to be obnoxious, "If we're mentioning the bar What about the mercs that comes around? Cable and Domino?"

Spencer rolls his eyes, "You say that like your not a vigilante and Laura's not also a merc."

Garcia just continues to stare at them.

Od: “Because you’re the only legit person in the family, Spence. Went and became a fed~” Peter grinned. “Well, you, Nessa and Dermot.”

Spencer raises a brow "Vanessa was a sex Worker for a while soooo, but no she's got that boring office job now and Dermot is...what does he do again?"

Laura snorts.

Od: “I think he’s an accountant? Or something?” Peter shrugged.

Garcia just takes a deep breath, "Jesus what have I gotten myself in to?" She asked no one in particular.

Peter just smiled, "A lot of fun and good people. Despite our occupations there isn't a bad guest here. You'll love it it's a circus."

Spencer perked up, "Isn't Blade and the others coming tonight?"

Laura perked up, "Yep the void crew is over tonight for dinner. Huh I guess Elektra is another human but just barely."

A moment later Logan walks is arms covered in blood. He is ignoring by everyone.

Od: Garcia watched him walk past. “Um… do I want to…?” Spencer shook his head. “Proooobably best that you don’t. Oh! But if the Void crew is here, that means Anna-Marie will come which means Nega will come. You’ll love her, and her girlfriend Yukio. They’re hackers.” He smiled seeing her perk up. “C’mon. You should probably rest before dinner and I guess we should call the team and let them know you made it alright.”

Garcia just nods stupidly as she's dragged through the huge house. True to their words the next time they entered the main area there were new people. She recognized them too Murdock and his people were on the couch arguing with one another

Peter Laura and Spencer light up.

"MATT!" They yell in greeting causing the argument to cease. Mat gives a dazzling smile in their direction.

Karen and Foggy call their own greetings. The two of them pause however as they lock eyes with Garcia.

"Uhhh." Foggy says somewhat dumbly. Peter cuts him off however, "Don't worry about it She's being brought into the fold. Being Spencer's best friend and all."

Foggy relaxes, "Oh. Well in that case It's been a while Miss. Garcia." He acknowledges. She just nods, "It has been.”

Matt and the others were given hugs all while Garcia squinting suspiciously. Foggy reacted like that for a reason she just didn't know exactly why

"What are you guys doing here so early?" Spencer asks dubiously.

Page just shrugs, "We got done early figures you might as well join for whatever dinner y'all are having."

Peter doesn't bat an eye as he squints at Matt who just scowls at him. They have their stand off for a while longer before Laura breaks it up. "I don't know anything about whatever that is but I don't want to hear about it keep it out the house." She threatens and they both relax and seem to accept this.

Garcia just continues to watch on befuddled.

Od:

Spencer explained, “sometimes things happen or people pass through that have issues together. But the rule is that whatever your problems are they don’t come into the Village. Or the School. One day you’re fighting against someone in the field and the next they’re in the kitchen making a sandwich.”

Peter nodded with a sigh, his shoulders dropping. “Yeah, the Village is a conflict free zone. Except for Wade and Logan. And Charles and Erik. But that’s because they’re always arguing.”

Me:

Garcia hesitantly asks, "Why do you have beef with Mr. Murdoch?"

Peter huffs, "Because he wouldn't let me help with a case." Matt raised a brow in his direction, "Sorry if I didn't want to bring you into a child sex trafficking ring."

Garcia looked back and forth between the two surprised, "Matt you know I can deal with that." Peter argued.

"I am fully aware but it doesn't mean you have to. Wade, Logan, and I were more them capable on our own. It wasn't fun I promise you."

Garcia has a vivid memory of exactly what he's talking about, Daredevil, Deadpool, and Wolverine took down a ring a few days ago... Holy shit... The joking theories were true. Matthew Murdock was Daredevil.

Matt just looked to her and winked and she blanched, "WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT HOW?! HOW ARE YOU DAREDEVIL?!"

Spencer just looked between them with a smothered smile. The bastard.

Matt just chuckled "Super senses makes up for the fact I'm blind. I'm pretty much a bat." He explains.

Garcia just continues to stare at him just believingly.

Od:

“It would seriously make more sense for you to be called Batman but you were late to the punch on that IP,” Wade swanned in with a platter of charcuterie boards. “Snacks? Remy kicked me out of the kitchen until it’s time for me to put dessert in the oven.”

“That’s because if you even look at a stove, it burns,” Spencer said while taking some cheese.

Wade gasped and put a hand to his chest. “Betrayal! From my own son! My poor heart will never recover!”

Me:

Logan appears and swats at the back of Wade's head "You'll live bub." Logan gruffed as Wade started a whole new round of dramatics.

"Peanut how dare you hit your beloved? Do you not love me anymore? This is domestic abuse."

Logan just blinked at him, "If you call that domestic abuse I fear what you call everything else."

Wade without missing a beat replies, "Domestic sadomasochism."

Logan just closed his eyes and lets out a sigh while trying to stifle a smirk. Wade just grins widely satisfied and proud with himself.

[allsassnoclass]

Are there any good 5SOS friendship fics?

the answer is definitely yes! we have fantastic writers in this fandom, so there are great friendship fics here. i can compile a list based on previous times i've answered this question, but i haven't been reading much 5sos fic for the past year and friendship fics have never been my favorite type of fic.

to find friendship fics on ao3, search for any of the pairings with a & sign instead of a / (example: Michael Clifford & Luke Hemmings). You can filter out the romantic pairings by excluding pairings with a / on the filters bar. this is a great way to find friendship fics, especially because asking me is only going to get the fics i'm aware of in my small circle here on tumblr, whereas filtering on ao3 will help you find a whole lot more!

now on to my recs:

with open hearts and open eyes by @lifewasradical: rated G, ot4 friendship, 2k. very highly recommend this one i love it a lot

If he closes his eyes, Luke thinks he can almost believe that he’s 16 again, that they’re in Australia and they’re just starting out, thrumming with energy and excitement and glee that still lingers in their bones if they look hard enough. Some of that childlike wonder bleeds through the moment, Luke’s sure of it, as the others all turn onto their stomachs too. Their outlines are barely able to be seen through the darkness, but Luke would know the contours of the other guys even if he went blind.

If I Can Dream Long Enough by @4thbrighteststar: rated G, ot4 friendship, 2k.

Luke leans back, closes his eyes and lets the setting sun wash over his face, lets his fingers find a rhythm of their own. Third fret, fifth string. Tenth fret - his fingers hop up and down the guitar. Seventh fret. Fifth fret - no, keep the riff. He loses himself in it, until the wind and the birds and the distant, roaring cars fall silent in the face of the music he’s making by himself for the first time in eternity.

(An ode to making music in the toughest of times.)

am i broken (are you the saviour) by jbhmalum, rated T, malum friendship, 4k

He should do something. Maybe take a deep breath, in and out. Maybe turn on the bedside lamp. Maybe go lie down on the cold bathroom floor. Maybe bury himself under Calum’s covers and cuddle up to him; it probably wouldn’t even wake Calum, and Michael would get the comfort he needs.

Michael hears something he didn’t want to and has a hard time dealing with it.

dearly depressed and brokenhearted (i’d like to let you know that boys cry too) by @clumsyclifford: rated T, muke friendship, 2k

Michael returns. He’s wearing a jacket and a beanie and there’s a blanket from off their couch in his hands.

“Michael,” Luke says.

“Please,” Michael says. “I’m obviously not going to convince you to come inside, but I don’t want you to freeze.” He takes the steps, footsteps falling where Luke’s had, and comes close enough to Luke that when he offers up the blanket, Luke reaches out and takes it. “I know you don’t wear jackets,” Michael explains.

(It’s cold and rainy out. Luke goes for a walk.)

crack a smile, stay a while (am i holding for applause?) by @clumsyclifford: rated T, cashton friendship (but the other two are there as well), 1k

Glancing down at Ashton, Michael adds, “What’s with him?”

“He’s convinced he’s going to do terribly and publicly humiliate himself,” Calum says, rolling his eyes again for good measure.

“No, you’ll be great,” Michael says brightly. “Calum’s always saying how you’re the most talented person in his music whatever class.”

“Calum’s stupid and wrong,” floats Ashton’s voice from somewhere underneath the seat.

no love sincerer (than the love of food) by TempestRising: rated G, ot4 friendship, 4k

5 times One Direction fed 5 Seconds of Summer / 1 time One Direction needed feeding.

melancholy & honey by @igarbagecannoteven: rated G, malum friendship, 500 words, they’re bees (yes you read that right)

Michael’s only been resting there for a minute when he hears a familiar hum approaching him from behind. He doesn’t have to turn his head to know it’s Calum.

glitter by @igarbagecannoteven: rated G, cake friendship

Calum has no idea how Luke is able to infect all of their tour gear with glitter so completely.

below are a collection of friendship fics that I personally have not read, but I’ve read other works by the writers so I feel okay recommending them

Jess @daydadahlias has written so many friendship fics that I have heard great things about!!!

 Torn Up (ot4 friendship, 8k)

Tailspin (cashton friendship, warning for alcohol/smoking, 5k)

Lightweight (ot4 friendship, warning for heavy alcohol, non-consensual kissing, 5k)

Tender (mashton friendship, 3k)

Superbloom (cashton friendship, warning for discussions of Skinny Skinny, 3k)

Movie Night (lashton friendship, 3k)

Shoebox (lashton friendship, 3k)

The Craft Club series (outside pov of ot4 friendship, but only Ashton appears in most of the installments. I've heard a lot of really fun things about this series, so while it isn't necessarily a heavy friendship focus I still recommend!)

from Bella @clumsyclifford

you should know i’ll be there for you (lashton friendship, 2k)

maybe this is just as good as it gets (cake friendship, 2k)

our best years are yet to come (thanks for choosing me) (cashton friendship, 1k)

from @lifewasradical

have my back (yeah, everyday) (malum friendship, 3k)

so much older (lashton friendship, 2k)

then if I may self-rec:

takeoff by me: rated G, mashton friendship, 1k

Sweater Weather by me: rated G, malum friendship or pre-slash, 1k

Tornado Warning by me: rated T, ot4 friendship, 2k

wedding vows by me: rated T, malum friendship, background roylum and mystal 5k

if anyone else has friendship fics they want to recommend feel free to add on!

[weekinapril]

sooo hello everyone. my art-blog is going to be kind of a tlt-fanart-themed-blog for a while, as I'm surely losing my mind waiting for ALECTO THE NINTH, so HELP ME G(J)OD, I guess??

Anyways, nice to meet you and please be kind to my lil brain worms out here

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 13

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary: Life was good. No, life was great. Was. Until. Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture. You welcomed him into your life—your home. Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want. At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; sexual tension + tense themes; self deprecation; mentions of toxic + absent parents; vivid memories of sexual encounters; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; jealous!reader; angry!jake; pregnancy hormones of multiple variety; INFIDELITY; manipulation; Y E A R N I N G !!!; elsie + josh being wonderful + helpful; mentions/talk of being unable to have children; BABY KICKS <3333; very sad Jake + reader who want each other so badly, but won’t let it happen; stubbornness out the wazoo; PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter 13 Word Count: 22.1k+

a/n: ok. shit's getting real... and i'm not bullshitting you when i say the next chapter is right around the corner. I FUCKING SWEAR THAT SHIT.

as always, massive thank you to @joshym for being the best sister there ever was and supporting me in my writings + pursuits + listening to every time i have anxiety over my writings <3 i love you to the ends of the earth, lis. you're my person - forever + ever. <3 additionally, a BIG OL thank u to @builtbybrokenbells. you are a queen whose throne is one to be bowed at. always. you'll never understand just how much your help + friendship means to me... in this silly story, other stories, and in LIFE. ily more, canadian me <3 an ode to my wonderful pal @gretavangroupie for being my push to keep writing always, helping me in the final revisions and edits when i release my cry for help. you are a true friend + i hope you know how much i appreciate u <3 a shout out to my homie @gretavanmoon for being my daily partner in flipping shit over anything + everything jake kiszka. you're a fuckin' real one, babe. <3 and, finally, an ever-present thanks to my girl @alwaysonthemend. Thank you, my love, for always being just around the corner when i need you. you're a personal favorite of mine + you know this <3

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

Covet Masterlist

"The covetous person lives as if the world were made altogether for him, and not he for the world." Robert South

When I opened my eyes, I turned to look at her again. 

And I found a woman who was far from who I’d left when I’d closed my eyes. No more tears. Nothing even close, actually. No, her eyes were completely dry and she didn’t look anywhere near sad. 

Thank fuck. That was all she’d wanted. . . Just the gender. That was all it had been. 

Y/n wouldn’t mind. Surely. Right? 

Fuck. I didn’t know. But it was too late now. 

“Now. . . That wasn’t too hard, was it?” Maya said, breaking into the silence that accompanied my still-harsh breathing. 

I simply blinked at her. The fuck it wasn’t. But I wasn’t about to tell her that. “No, not too bad,” I replied, a tight smile stretched across my closed lips. 

After a few moments of rather uncomfortable silence, she was speaking again. “Would it be okay if I stayed the night tonight?”

God. Why did her question make me want to scream? Shouldn’t one want their super hot girlfriend to stay the night? 

What in the fuck was wrong with me? 

I was a seriously terrible boyfriend. . . No two ways about it. 

How in the fuck was I supposed to let her down gently? I really didn’t want her around when I finally got to see y/n again. . . 

Not that anything would happen between us — considering the guilt over Maya that was eating me alive. . . But the idea of having Maya right there when I laid eyes on y/n again. . . Made me want to fuckin’ hurl.

Think, Jake. . . Think. . . I looked away from her (like the fucking coward I was) to process my thoughts.

After a minute, I had an idea that wouldn’t be too harsh, so I decided to just fucking run with it. “I really think it would be best for us to have a couple of nights apart,” I tried, trailing off and finally looking up at her. 

The way her face immediately drooped — from hopeful to heartbroken — it cut me. Fuck. 

Was I being selfish? I damn well felt like it. But I couldn’t help what I wanted. 

Luckily, the words that came out of her mouth next pissed me off bad enough that I was able to stand my ground. Firmly. 

Her dark eyes dug deep into my bones before she began. “Why is that, Jake? Is this about y/n and the mess–?”

“No!” I started, rather loudly, at that. Dammit! Too quick. Too sharp. Pick up the pieces, Jake. . . “Fuck, no. Sorry. I’m—I’m just tired as hell from the flights and I just need some time in my own bed. My body hurts from the hours of travel and shit. I don’t know,” I shook my head, at a loss for what else to say. None of it was a lie, really. . . Just wasn’t the full truth. 

Her features were still crestfallen, but she nodded in what seemed to be genuine understanding. How she’d switched gears so damn fast, I didn’t know. But I didn’t question it. 

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. . ,” she said with one final nod of her head. Her eyes connected with mine over the armrest of her car, made of pristine tanned leather, between our seats. “I’m sorry. . .”

And the crushing guilt again. Why was she apologizing for simply wanting to be with me? And why in the goddamned world had I let myself get so annoyed with her wanting to simply be a part of my life? 

“Don’t be sorry,” I rushed out, questioning my idea to be away from her as soon as the words ‘I’m sorry’  had left her mouth. I needed to handle her with care and I wasn’t. What the fuck was wrong with me? The next words slipped out of my mouth, encouraging the idea I’d come up with, without a single thought for my supportive and loving girlfriend. “I can’t miss you if I’m with you, you know?”

Selfish. I was selfish. 

“Why do you need to miss me?” The frown on her face tore my heart the fuck up. Why I couldn’t just say the right thing, I didn’t know. It felt like everything that came out of my mouth was misconstrued and twisted. I wasn’t trying to make her feel this way, but I couldn’t help it. Being this tired, I didn’t think I could communicate anything effectively. “Wouldn’t it be better to just be with me instead?”

“It’s always better to be with you. . .But I also just want you to have some time to yourself, too, My,” I continued. “It’ll be nice to have a night to yourself before you have to deal with your mom and sister all day tomorrow.”

“Half sister, Jake. . . Only half,” she playfully smacked my arm, making me look at her with a raised brow. She was suddenly ‘okay’ enough to play around? “And praise god for that. . .”

“Yes. . .,” I chuckled at her antics, raising my brows. “Only half. She’s a lot for you to deal with, huh?”

“Yeah. And that’s putting it lightly,” she said, exasperated just at the thought of it. “You’re still thinking you can’t come to my mom’s with me?”

“I really need to be with Josh on Christmas day. Sam is going home with Danny,” I said, even though I’d explained this to her plenty of times before – when she’d asked me the same thing about going to her mom’s. “ Josh won’t have anyone and. . . I just. . . miss my brother. Twins can’t be apart for too long. . . I’ve tested it and it sucks if I don’t get to see him when my brain and heart are telling me I need to.”

“I get it. . .,” She conceded, giving a solemn nod. I knew she didn’t ‘get it’. But, I appreciated the way she was trying to understand. Hoping that was the end of this torturous conversation, I almost cringed when she opened her mouth to speak again. “I’m sorry for everything that got dumped on you. . . . all of the shit from last night. . . I should’ve told you sooner and I’m sorry my dad had to be the one to do it.”

Yeah, I agree, I couldn’t help but internally respond. I’m sorry you handled it that way, too.

On the outside, though, I simply shook my head with knitted brows. “It’s okay, My, reall–.”

“No, Jake,” she shook her head to disagree, speaking to me as if she were a mother correcting her child. Real damn similar to how her father had spoken to me. “It’s not. I should have told you and I’m sorry I wasn’t better about that. Just hard to talk about, I guess. . .”

“Maya,” I started, gathering my thoughts so I could respond properly instead of with frustration. She had gotten enough of that tonight, and I didn’t want to keep giving her shit that she didn’t deserve. “It’s okay, babe. I’m sorry for my short response. Just a lot going on at once when I found out. I’m sorry I got quiet for the rest of the night,” I said, taking the opportunity to apologize for any behavior of mine last night. Just wanted to say sorry however I could – without telling her anything. “Just going through a lot of emotions lately and that’s not your fault. That’s on me.”

“It’s okay, Jakey,” Maya pushed a smile onto her face, but the tiredness from the past couple of days was starting to weigh very heavily on me. So much so that I had a seriously hard time telling if the smile was genuine or not. To make matters worse, I couldn’t even find the energy to care, let alone get to the bottom of it. 

All I knew was she had been acting strange. And, I couldn’t figure out if it was because I was tired or if she was in a tough place mentally. . . To be fair, the past several hours had definitely been emotionally taxing for her. Any woman with a heart like Maya’s would be struggling after all of that came to light.

Fuck, Jake. Just get inside, I counseled myself, watching Maya’s lips move as she continued on about something I couldn’t find the energy to listen to. Whatever this is with her, surely it can wait until the morning. 

Yes. Seriously. Waiting until morning sounded best. Ideal. I was too irritable at the moment, and her eyes were still so sad. . . It was hard to watch her like this. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I had ever seen her express so much emotion. And normally, I would be eager to ease her mind, but right now I just wanted—no, needed–to see y/n. 

After all of the shit I’d done to her – fuck. Leaving her here, the texts, the pictures, leaving the phone call like an asshole, not speaking to her all day because I was in my damn head. . . Fucking selfish. I was such an asshole. And to do that to the woman carrying my child? Made me feel pretty goddamn worthless.

Then, there was my girlfriend. My perfect, stunning, beautiful girlfriend who was going through something. And, I couldn’t even find it in me to care. After everything, all of the shit she’d helped me with during and after the summer. . . Selfish, Jake. 

The guilt was eating me alive, but I still couldn’t seem to give her any more than I already was. Not at the moment, at least. With a quick eye at the stereo screen, I noticed the time. Past midnight. It was past fuckin’ midnight after a day of travel. And we were still sitting here. Outside of the complex. In her car. 

What more did she want? She’d spent the entire past two days with me, save for an hour and a half of me giving into overwhelming desires. Then, she’d forced me to tell her things about Lav, about our baby—not hers. I was just tired from all of it. 

More than anything, though, I was not sure if it would ever be enough for her. . . Not after witnessing the way her dad treated her. Like a goddamn princess. I couldn’t do that shit for Maya. Couldn’t treat her like a princess. In a few short months, I was going to have my own girl to treat that way. My baby girl. And I’d be damned if I gave that type of energy to my girlfriend before my daughter. 

Still, I sat in the car, not daring to move as her eyes threatened more tears. God, I just couldn’t take it. 

“You know, it’s just. . .,” she trailed off, another sniffle, another stab straight to my chest. “I gave up on the idea of ever having kids, even though I wanted them so badly. A shame, I think, that so many people can have as many as they want and treat them terribly, when I. . .,” she let out a shrouded sigh, likely trying to hide the quiver in her tone. “I would give anything to just have–.”

“My,” I tried, knowing I should reach over and touch her, even if it were just a reassuring hand on her knee, but I couldn’t. Didn’t want to touch her. So. Damn. Tired. My brain hurt, struggling to keep up with everything that had been thrown my damn way. 

“I’m happy for you, Jake. Really. So happy.” And there it was again, her voice had cleared and confidence had come back like she’d never cried at all. Another wave of guilt took over, making me realize just how hard she was trying to keep it together, so I wouldn’t feel bad. She was too good for me—especially this version of me. “I guess I never pictured it like this. Maybe that’s why it’s been so hard for me lately.” 

“Why ‘lately’?” I bit the tip of my tongue, holding back the sigh that was begging to escape. God, Jake, just listen to her. Let her talk. 

“Being so. . . Uninvolved. It’s difficult. Knowing that I’m going to be a mom–finally–but not actually getting to be a part of it. . .,” Another sniffle shuttered between us to show just how cut up she was about it, effectively tearing my heart straight from my chest. “And y/n is great. Seriously. Love her. . . but, I don’t feel like she wants me involved. I know it’s not you keeping this all from me, Jakey.” 

There was a fire lighting up in my chest for the briefest of moments at the idea that she was somehow insulting y/n. . . Why would she be insulting y/n? I knew way fuckin’ better than to think y/n would ever treat anyone badly.

Fuck, I felt defensive and I was not liking the way her name was about to fall off of Maya’s lips again – I saw it forming. So, I interrupted it. “She wouldn’t ever—.”

“It’s okay, Jake.” She cut me off again, wanting to make sure I knew she wasn’t attacking anyone, probably. But if she wasn’t, why had it felt that way? I knew she wasn’t, and she would never, but everything felt so different right now, so wrong. I was wrong for throwing her in the middle of this, and perhaps I was even more of an asshole for keeping her out of it. 

And I knew her dad would have said the same damn thing to me that I was telling myself. He’d put me down if he got the chance. Like he already fucking had. . . The man had known me for less than a day before he was tearing into my ass. All that had told me was how I’d apparently made a very bad first impression. Made me feel like utter shit that I hadn’t done better for Maya and her family. . . Too absorbed in my own musings. . .

It was really starting to feel like nothing I did was right, for anyone. Every time I turned my head, y/n was upset about something. And when she wasn’t, Maya was, now. I couldn’t fucking win. At least I’d learned y/n’s ups and downs. . . Maya had hardly shown me anything but ‘ups’, so I was still learning her ‘downs’. . . 

But. . . Was it even worth it? Was it worth learning another woman like that with the immaculate woman upstairs waiting on me. . .?

Fucking shit. I was not doing well. Sleep. I just wanted to sleep. 

“I’ve always wanted kids, and I know I’d be–I will be a great mom. It’s only. . .having no say in this situation has definitely made it more difficult, but I am excited too, Jake,” she leaned over to hold my limp hand in hers. “This is my only chance, so I’m sorry if I’ve been too. . . Pushy. I just—I don’t want to miss out on this experience, even if it’s not how I thought it would go or how I want it to go.” 

I had to close my eyes for a moment, taking in a long breath through my nose to calm my nerves. It wasn’t like that, and she knew that. I wasn’t trying to make her feel bad, or unimportant, or anything like that. And neither was y/n. Not in the slightest, actually. I wanted Maya around – wanted her involved. But, all of this stuff, everything about Lavender was just so. . .  Sacred. To me, to y/n, to us. 

Sometimes, it felt like that was the only part of us that was still right – that was never wrong. Lavender was like this safe, hallowed ground. . .

But I didn’t want to make Maya feel like shit in a situation she didn’t ask for. . . didn’t want to leave her out of things. It was just so damn difficult, all of the time. 

I felt so frustrated and guilty over so much shit. And now – it was a hundred times worse. Every time I looked at her after last night, guilt was the resounding emotion. And remembering what her dad had said. . . 

The insane reality was none of it mattered to me at the moment when I knew I was so close to. . . God. Fuck. 

And that made it a fucked up mess. I didn’t know what to do at the moment, and I didn’t want to try to know. Not right now, anyway. 

Just needed to get inside.

But, with a twist in my gut, I realized that even the thought of seeing y/n wasn’t even comforting me anymore. The thought was only adding more complicated feelings to the stack of guilt. And that made me want to crawl in a fuckin’ hole. 

I just wanted to go to bed, to forget about every part of this damned trip and especially this conversation. 

It wasn’t y/n’s fault. Not at all. It was all on me. I didn’t like the idea of going in there to face y/n, knowing I let the gender slip, knowing she would know something was wrong. It just wasn’t something I wanted to face right now. 

None of this fell into place with how I’d originally wanted to greet her after this trip. And I really hoped y/n wouldn’t be mad if she found out how I’d told Maya the gender. Things had just started to feel okay again. And I’d be damned before I let it go back to whatever the fuck it had been before November.

“I love you, My. Seriously. I hope you know this,” I said, forcing another smile. I just couldn’t talk about this anymore. I needed this night to be over. I felt sick with stress, and I just wanted to be alone. “I want you to be a part of this. I will make sure you’re a part of this. Okay?” 

“I love you, Jake.” And finally, I took some goddamn initiative and leaned across the console, giving her a quick peck on the lips to cheer her up. . . . also wanted to get her to stop talking. “Thank you for understanding my crazy head. I don’t want you to think that I’m upset or angry. . . Just a bit sad. I feel better, now, though . . . Thank you for letting me be a part of this at all. It just means so much to me.” 

This was becoming too much. . . Just needed to get out, to go upstairs and go to bed before I let her keep me in this car any longer. Her words were all twisting around each other in my head. Her eyes, so sad, I just felt so horrible. But her back and forth was confusing as shit. 

I just needed to be alone, and the longer I sat with her, the worse I felt. I needed to leave before I gave in and told her to come upstairs with me. I really didn’t want to do that. Didn’t want to tell her to come upstairs. 

I just couldn’t take it anymore. 

I couldn’t spend another night with her. Not yet. Figuring out whatever the hell was going on in my head was priority number one. And right now, everything I felt would likely be fixed with a good sleep. In the morning, I would feel better. I wouldn’t be so. . . Apathetic, to whatever she was feeling. We could talk it out after the holidays, and we would be fine. At least I hoped so. 

I really needed us to be fine. At the end of it all, I couldn’t lose Maya. And I wouldn’t let whatever this was, whatever I was feeling, get in the way of being with her. I felt like shit that I’d spent my entire weekend away with her thinking of y/n. I used a lot of time that should’ve been dedicated to Maya, with y/n — whether it be on the phone or in my head. 

I’d ignored Maya — my girlfriend — and turned her into an idea more than an actual person I was supposed to be paying attention to. 

A girlfriend, who only deserved the best of me. . . Not leftovers from what I was giving to someone who’d torn me up so badly. Hell, y/n had hurt me so badly that I’d led myself back to Maya. Maya had picked up every piece. 

What. A. Mess.

My eyes were heavy as I stepped out of the car, and even if I was completely wiped, I spent an ample amount of time holding and hugging this dream of a woman who I got the privilege to call my girlfriend. 

After a while of standing beside her car, I felt as though I might’ve fallen asleep standing up. So, with a bit of hesitance due to the guilt still swimming in waves through my chest, I pulled away before holding her lovely face in my hands. Those deep pools of dark chocolate. Irises so dark, I could hardly ever see her pupils. . . Beautiful eyes. . . But, as I looked into them, I couldn’t help but wish they were someone else’s. . . The fuck was wrong with me?! I gave her a kiss, intent on feeling that spark with her. . . 

And, thankfully, it came when my lips touched hers. I sucked her bottom lip between both of mine, savored the taste of her. . . She always tasted like a mix of Wintergreen gum and cherries – a staple taste in her favorite brand of lipstick. . . Didn’t know lipsticks could taste good until Maya. Knew about chapstick and shit. . . but not lipstick. 

Maya was funny like that, though. Teaching me all about shit I’d never known before her. I really loved all of the things she taught me. . . She forced me into a version of myself I’d yet to explore before her. A man who was confident, but curious. All of the time. . .

As she drove away, I waved goodbye slowly and sleepily. The best smile I could muster was a tight one, close-lipped and slightly forced. I stood there a few moments after, watching to make sure she was safe while pulling out of the parking lot. 

But, while I did this, my duffel slung over my shoulder, I momentarily felt myself falling asleep. I had never felt so exhausted in my entire life. My mind and heart, tired. Conflicted in ways I fucking hated. Shouldn’t have even been conflicted. 

By the time I reached the front door, I couldn’t even think anymore. I couldn’t give either woman any more of me tonight – because I didn’t have any more to give. 

In the morning, it would all be okay. I knew it would be. It had to be.

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

The keys jingling in the door wouldn’t be heard by a normal person. 

But you were nowhere near normal at the moment. Lav’s kicks were still lighting up your palm and you knew Jake was supposed to be home soon. It had to be him at the front door. And while you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him by being too excited after he’d openly ignored you for a day, you couldn’t help but get excited over him finally being home. 

The fact that it coincided with Lavender’s first movements you were able to feel – it made the largest smile you’d emitted in a long time brighten your features. It was simply too perfectly timed for you to slow down from opening your bedroom door as eagerly as you did. 

And when you saw him. God. 

He looked so damn good. 

You’d missed the fuck out of him, and to have him back home had you feeling whole. Like everything was clicking back into place after two days where things had felt slightly off while he’d been away. 

Granted, for the first few seconds of admiring him, it was his back facing you. 

But, still, you had to admire the way his long brunette waves fell over his shoulders and graced his upper back. His peacoat, hanging just right at his hips. . . And, while the back of him was incredible, yes, when he turned around. . . your mind blanked. 

So handsome. The most handsome. . . He was everything to you in that moment. Having him standing there in front of you felt like a pipe dream, but it was actually happening and you couldn’t believe he was back. . . The love you felt for him was inexplicably strong and you were coming to realize this more and more by the damned day. 

The emotion you felt at simply having him home again was unlike any you’d ever felt before Jake Kiszka. 

He just brought this fire out in you. Your heart, only ever beating this feverishly for him. His cheeks, red from the bitter cold outside. A whopping sixteen degrees and lower, all day long. Freezing temperatures to welcome him back to Brooklyn. 

The smile he gave you didn’t reach his eyes. . . And you noticed his eyebrows were scrunched, like he was deliberating something. . . Whatever it was, you were sure you could brighten his night with your news. This was the most idyllic way to welcome him back. . . His mood was bound to improve once you told him.

“Jake,” you breathed, the air around you buzzing with the cloud you were floating on. The elation over feeling her, rushing through your veins. “I have the best news. . . I just felt–.”

But, before you could finish, he was holding up a hand with a shake of his head. With this action, you were taken aback. Your face fell slowly, your own brows furrowing to sort of mirror this odd expression he was giving you. He wasn’t really frowning, but he definitely wasn’t smiling. His mouth was set in this straight line, unamused. . . 

Had you made him angry? Was there a reason he’d been ignoring you? One that you hadn’t caught on to?

This expression he was donning was one you’d seen before – when he’d be deep in thought after a serious conversation. 

Maybe he and Maya just talked about something serious. . . But. . . what about? Her? Him? Them? You? He had cut you off rather abruptly the night before. . . Had he realized it was a mistake he’d made? The shit in the shower, your bedroom, over the phone. . .? Had he told her about what had happened between you two? Or worse, had she found what was on his phone? 

You really honed in on the sight of his eyes. They were sunken and dull; held this incredibly vast emotion that you were struggling to pick up on in your state of delirium. The dark bags under his eyes told you that, at the very least, he was tired. 

But still, there was more. . . 

More that you were not too sure you wanted to try to figure out with the way he looked sort of corrective and dismissive of you. 

It all left a sour taste in your mouth. You’d put yourself out there for him: sent your first titty pic ever, called him to talk him through an orgasm, worked yourself up to an orgasm (with his help) in a public restroom (granted, it had been a single stall – but still). . . . The whole nine yards, only to be ghosted over the phone and now fully rejected in person. 

“I’m just not feeling the best and I need to go to sleep,” he said, voice raspy as ever. But his tone – it was off. He was off. What in the fuck had happened over the past twenty four hours? It was like the bathroom incident had never occurred. . . 

Understandably, you were very hurt. Your ego and heart, holding hands and equally bruised. But you did the best you could to play it off. Didn’t want to put any more on his shoulders. So, you didn’t bother him with it. Didn’t tell him. Even as you stood there, right across from him. Your hand, still on your tummy as Lavender was kicking away in your womb, waiting for her daddy to notice her. 

But her daddy couldn’t handle it tonight. And you weren’t about to push him any further over the brink of his very apparent weariness over whatever the hell it was. At this point, any person worth their salt would have been able to put two and two together. . . It was obvious to any one that it was you he was exasperated with. . . All of the signs pointed to it. 

So, you nodded your head with finality and did your best to smile as genuinely as you could. . . Worked to make the happy emotion seem real. . . Who knew how well it was turning out. All you knew was you didn’t want him tainting any more of this precious moment. You didn’t want this magical moment to be forever marred by the emotion he was carrying home with him from South Carolina. 

If only he’d stayed home. God. Fuck it all. Truly. 

“No worries,” you squeaked, clearing your throat to deepen your voice to sound more normal. “I know you’re definitely tired. Obviously. I’ll let you go to bed.” 

If you kept going, you would continue to ramble. So instead, you clamped your mouth shut and didn’t say a word as a grin stretched tight across your lips. Had to let him go to sleep. . . You could’ve screamed, though. You’d really fucking missed him. Didn’t want him to leave to go to bed when he’d just gotten home. . . But he wanted space from you. 

Since you were already up, you went ahead and moved to escape to the kitchen. You were thirsty and needed to fill one of your Stanleys – just not the one he’d purchased for you. 

The next words that left his lips shocked you, realizing he wasn’t ignoring you completely. It stopped you — right before you made it to the doorway of the kitchen. Hand still on your tummy to feel the flutters, but your ears, irresistibly in tune with Jake. 

“Hey,” he called after you, making you turn to face him with unmasked hope. Yet, he was already at his door, with it half opened behind him. That duffel bag strap, showcasing the strong shoulders you longed to wrap your arms around. “Merry Christmas.”

You didn’t even have a chance to respond before he’d closed the damned door, locking him and his shitty mood away in his bedroom. 

Really, you tried to be understanding. But you couldn’t help the wave of rejection that washed over you, making you want to hide away in your own room. At such a happy moment, too. 

Blinking away the tears brimming your eyelids (damn baby hormones), you tried your very best to just enjoy the moment, the milestone, the very thing you’d been waiting to feel for so long. You stood in place, hand on your tummy in the same spot Lav’s little feet were thrumming against you, even more so now. You wondered why she was so enthusiastic, what had woken her up and why she was so intent on letting you know she was there, too. Letting your palm rub slow, tedious circles on the bump that held your energetic, enthusiastic baby, your eyes stayed trained on Jake’s closed door. 

Could she have been kicking because of him? Did the sound of his voice cheer her up the same way it did for you? Could she recognize her daddy, even through your tummy? 

Feeling a tear escape your eye, you began filling your Stanley cup with ice, and most definitely not the one Jake had so graciously bought for you. You just wanted to enjoy the feeling, the fact that Lavender was healthy and happy, but it just felt like something was missing. The apartment felt emptier, lonelier now that Jake had come inside and closed the door on you. On you both. 

He was missing the biggest milestone yet. Willingly ignoring you, not giving you a chance to include him. 

You couldn’t help but feel slightly upset that he was so quick to walk away. . . Yes, walk away on you, sure. . . He had no reason to sit in the kitchen and talk to you, especially not after spending time with Maya and her dad. (You felt stupid, thinking he would be excited to see you after just leaving his perfect girlfriend. That was understandable, even if it hurt.)

But it wasn’t just you. Not anymore, anyway. 

You were hurt on behalf of the tiny one in your tummy.

The ice cold sip you took from your now-filled cup distracted you from the hurt for a moment, just because it was so damn refreshing. Pregnancy really took it out of a person. You wanted more of everything. . . Food, water, Jake. . . 

You wanted to knock on his door, to tell him to fuck off for missing this, but you didn’t. It wasn’t his fault, even if you were pissed at him. For the texts, for the phone call, for the ignoring, for the rejecting, and now for this. . .

Even if you were sad he was missing it, you should have just said something sooner, before he went to his room. Maybe if you had just gone for it, he would have stayed. You wanted that for her—not for you. Always for her, because she was most important. 

Yet, selfish as it sounded, you did want him to stay for you. And maybe that was why it hurt so damn bad. . . You were doing this to yourself, in the end.

Merry fucking Christmas to you. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

December 25, 2022  

The sun shone in beautifully to escort the bright, cheerful winter day into its rightful place. 

Christmas. You were so damn ready for the joy the day never failed to bring with it. Last night had been a fucking drag and you didn’t want to spend an unnecessary amount of lamenting over it. It sounded most attractive to simply avoid the apartment at all costs. . . So, you knew getting ready for your grandparents’ Christmas was bound to take no time. 

You were past ready to get to their house and sink into their unwavering love. And, if you were being completely honest, you were also past ready to involve someone else in the unexplainable joy of Lavender’s kicks. She wasn’t doing it again (yet) this  morning, but you were seriously hoping that she’d do it again. . . Surely she would. But. . . you were trying not to overthink it. 

Before leaving your room to feed Stevie, you’d tentatively glanced in the direction of Jake’s room. You didn’t want to accidentally bump into him. Because, try as you might, your mind was stuck on a loop of the look he’d given you last night. How he’d dismissed you so easily. You saw it over and over. It was embarrassing as hell and you weren’t anxious to see him again after that. 

You were beginning to lose hope that he’d actually meant the shit he’d said before leaving for his little trip and on his trip. . . It was very possible he’d lost interest. And that broke your heart more than you cared to admit. You’d ghosted people before — acted short towards them to try and get rid of them. That was what it seemed like he was doing with you. Or, at least something similar. 

It was safe to assume he was appreciative of your body and what you were doing for his child. But, what you feared was that he didn’t think you were worth risking anything with Maya. . . 

So, it had been your lucky day when you peered curiously to his door and found it to be closed. And no other room was in use by him, from what you could tell. 

It was stupid that your heart fell at his lack of presence. 

Fuck your foolish heart. 

Majority of the time, it couldn’t be trusted when it came to him. But, you were coming not to care. You felt how you felt and there was nothing you could do about it. And you had more important things — like a literal baby — to worry about than controlling the natural way you felt for him. It was what it was.  

You just couldn’t have him. And that was that.

So, you went about your morning like normal. But, you did so quickly. You wanted to take advantage of the time he was still sleeping with his door shut. 

After feeding Stevie, a quick shower was necessary to wash your hair and do a quick shave. You hadn’t done either in the bath last night and you were enjoying still being able to shave. The inevitable was coming in a few months where it would be impossible to do so. No more reaching your legs or anything else below the waist once the belly got to a certain size. 

Thankfully, the no-no area wax was still holding up from the other night, so the shaving went fairly quickly after the hair rinse. You’d done the blow drying of your hair in the bathroom, not wanting to wake Jake from his sleep. 

As you’d dried your hair, you’d had time for your irritation to rev up at the idea of walking out and perhaps seeing Jake. Thinking about the idea that he could be ignoring you — or trying to avoid you — made you want to throw your blow dryer into the mirror. After what he’d done to lead you on in the days prior. God. If he was trying to get rid of you after pulling all of that shit, it really did make you want to scream. But you wouldn’t. 

He could do whatever the fuck he wanted. 

Whatever floated his fucking boat.

 In fact, by the time you were wrapping the cord around the dryer, you’d decided you were glad he was ignoring you. Seriously. You didn’t need to see him and get all sad on Christmas Day. 

Once you were safely back in your room, with your still-sleeping roommate in his room, you put him out of mind. 

You focused on getting dressed and to your grandparents’. And once you were all dressed,  you took a minute to admire your outfit. It was really cute. Comfy. 

The mirror saw you looking at  your brand new lounge set from the TikTok shop. The prettiest cream color. Not see-through in the slightest (you’d been worried it would be flimsy material —TikTok shop and all that). You had to admit, TikTok shop wasn’t totally unreliable. . . At least when it came to winter lounge sets. 

Your bump looked adorable in the smooth, cashmere outfit and your ass looked incredible. In fact, you looked so damn cute — so good — that you weren’t even thinking about Jake. Or his attitude towards you only hours ago. 

With the lightest and easiest makeup on, you loaded up your oversized tote bag with your family’s presents. And once they were all packed up, you were ready to go. Had to get there to help Elsie get the food ready.

But, with a forlorn gaze, you eyed the two smaller flat presents, still sitting in the corner of your room. Wrapped in the same shiny red paper as the rest. You couldn’t help but feel slightly saddened at the fact that you weren’t sure you’d ever find the time to give them to him. . . Couldn’t be sure of jackshit when it came to him. 

At least not this morning. 

Nope. Didn’t matter.

You gave one final and reassuring swoop along Stevie’s back and promised her you’d be back that evening to feed her. Then, after swiftly grabbing your overnight bag, you were slipping on your long, black peacoat and aviators. You were ready to escape the suffocating feeling that encompassed your entire apartment. 

Making it down the exterior stairs of the building proved to be more of a feat with the additional bag, full of presents, on your shoulder and the overnight bag in your opposite hand. Gravity was something to become acquainted with again, the bigger you got. And additional baggage obviously didn’t help that. But, by the grace of god, you made it to the bottom step and were well on your way to your car within a few minutes. 

But, just as you were closing the back door, bags safely secured in the backseat, you heard a very familiar voice call out your name. 

The butterflies were flying rampantly in your tummy upon hearing him. 

And try as you might have wanted, you couldn’t resist looking up towards him. He was running down the stairs, his torn-up white vans hanging on by their singular thread as he was jogging towards you. He was wearing sweatpants that were haphazardly pulled on and the t-shirt he was wearing, the same heathered one, burnt-red in color, that he’d been wearing the night you first. . . . Damn.

But no coat. And it was frigid out.

“Jacob, where is your damn coat?!” You worried at him, not giving him a chance to say a word as he finally settled in front of you, breathless. 

“It’s not necessary,” he replied, the three words sounding more like harsh breaths than anything. “Goddamn, I am out of shape, huh?” He laughed, his hands settling on his hips as he briefly looked down, chest expanding to allow him a minute to catch his breath. 

Then, he was looking at you again. Whatever you wanted to say was trapped at the back of your throat. He was so handsome. His skin, ever-tan, glowing in the winter morning light. And the day’s new sunshine was doing the amber in the center of his eyes wonders. . . 

You almost forgot you were more than borderline mad at him. Almost. 

“What do you want, Jake?” You spit, blinking once with a roll of your eyes. The sunglasses that sat on your face were translucent enough that you knew he could see the motions of your irises. 

And, you were damn near elated at the thought that he could see your annoyance as you’d so blatantly seen his the night prior. 

He looked taken aback at your tone – yet, not surprised in the slightest, at the same time. 

“I just wanted to tell you Merry Christmas,” he started, looking desperate for you to understand where he was coming from. . . That this was somehow more than a simple ‘Merry Christmas’. 

The sincerity in his eyes, with the traditional saying, was enough to make your knees weak. . . Though, it didn’t matter how sincere he was – or if he was trying to translate more than a holiday greeting. . . all that mattered was how your mind was still reeling from last night. 

So, you didn’t want to give in to any of the butterflies fluttering around in your belly. This time, you didn’t want their jittery, rousing influence. So, you stood your ground. Stayed mad at him. He’d rejected you last night. 

Rejected you — even after the (very) intense phone sex. . . After what had happened in the shower and your bedroom. . . After all of the shit he’d promised he’d do upon returning home. . . 

He hadn’t even stopped and taken a few minutes of time to hear you out. Hadn’t cared to. . . All while his baby had been kicking. For the first time.

It’s his loss, your brain echoed on a repetitive scream. And, at this moment, with your anger and hormones taking charge, you agreed. His fucking loss. He missed out.

“You already did that last night, Jake,” you clipped at him, resting your hands, subconsciously, on the small roundness of your belly. His suddenly-downcast eyes followed your movements momentarily, but quickly found their way back to your irises when you started speaking again. “You told me ‘Merry Christmas’ before you went to bed. Remember?”

“I—uh. . . Yeah, I know,” he rubbed the back of his neck, shifting nervously on his feet before he decided to tuck both hands in his sweats’ pockets. “I also wanted to apologize for that. How tired I was.”

“Why the fuck are you apologizing for being tired? God, Jake,” you snapped the words, without even thinking. 

His head pulled back, once more, in shock. Those beautiful lips pursed, before he briefly chewed on them, his eyes wide as he looked to the side, shaking his head in shock at your tone. All of this, blatantly showing his growing irritation. 

But no. He had no right to be anywhere near irritated. 

It made you angry that he had the audacity to feel any sort of negative emotion. It was your turn to feel hurt. And it pissed you the fuck off that he was apologizing for being ‘tired’. 

Last night, in his eyes, you’d seen more than tiredness. There had been an unnamable, heartbroken emotion that you couldn’t figure out then or now. The way his expression had hardened and wilted, all at once. . . It was stuck in a loop in your mind. 

He’d been more than just ‘tired’. And, on top of you not being able to figure out why, he was now lying to you by omission. 

But you were starting to come to terms with the fact that you didn’t want him to see how it had affected you. If he wasn’t going to be honest with you, you weren’t going to be honest with him. So, you straightened up and hesitantly stretched a forced gentle smile on your lips. 

“You had a long weekend, Jake. It’s fine,” you tried again, grabbing hold of your belt bag’s strap with one hand. The other hand, going to rest on your lower back. This dull pain in your lower back. . . It truly had been a persistent enemy in recent days. And you’d been standing in your flat-footed platform Uggs long enough, on the concrete, that your back was feeling quite ungrateful for the combination. “Thank you – so much – for apologizing. Means a lot,” you continued, semi-kindly, before your voice dipped to a tone that didn’t mask your frustration as well. “But, if that’s all. . . I’m gonna go. My back is killing me and I’m past ready to get to my grandparents’. Thanks for the Merry Christmas. ‘Preciate it.”

You never said you were going to be completely dishonest. . . Just dishonest about your feelings towards the situation. Your feelings towards him. Just as you were going to turn on your heel, he was speaking again. 

“Uh—yeah. Um. . . Of-of course,” he stuttered, stepping back with a shake of his head. “I just–I just couldn’t go the whole day without saying something to you about it.”

“Mm. I get it. Thanks,” you bitterly replied, eyes squinting a bit with a sarcastic smile. 

Without even taking another second to consider saying something else, you turned away from him. Before you could expose your heart any further. And, just as you got to your driver’s side door and opened it to get in, you turned to him once more. 

And. . . there he was. Majestic beauty, in human form – now standing before you. 

He got to be the rejected one this time. Rejected by you. You got your revenge. 

His stare was pointed at the ground and his eyebrows screwed together in a conflicted manner. He was then saying something silently to himself before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, afterwards running an open palm down his face.

He was unhappy. Whatever. He could get over it.

But— it was when the same hand went to fluff the hair on the right side of his head. . . The strands of chestnut, left skewed in the wake of the tousle. Still looked effortlessly beautiful, even with more than one hair out of place. Then, once more, he was doing it again. 

He was jittering – feeling unsure of himself, most likely. 

The doubled flustered motion made your heart sink in your chest. He was nervous. And you hated it for him. And you. For both of you. You didn’t want him to feel nervous around you. . . Hell no. Losing every bit of progress was not the goal. . . 

You were just upset. It didn’t mean you wanted to lose him if it was possible he could still care enough to stop you to tell you Merry Christmas – and apologize. Even if the apology didn’t encompass the complete truth and he was masking something else, you couldn’t knock him for doing it. For, it was something you’d done a million times before. . . 

And, pathetic as it was, even if he wanted you — just a sliver of how much you wanted him — you’d take it. The way your body and soul craved him was overwhelming. The desire to satiate it meant your morality and feminism suffered for it at times. . .

With one leg in your car, you decided you could tell him one more thing. Before you left. Just to make sure he knew your opinion on a particular matter at hand. Something he’d previously mentioned, offhandedly. 

“And, no,” you began. 

His head snapped in your direction, mouth forming an ‘o’ in surprise – surely not planning on hearing your voice again. Those handsomely thick eyebrows dipped before he lifted one in confusion. 

You continued. “You are the furthest thing from out of shape, Jake. I think I can confirm that much. . . Based on recent events and all. . .Yeah?” The lilt in your tone coincided with the blush in your cheeks. His lips quivered in satisfaction, just the slightest bit at your implication. You kept on, “Maybe it’s just a good idea to not bolt at full-fuckin’-speed down the stairs and across the lot.”

“I had to, though,” he said, his smile drooping just a bit to indicate his seriousness. With a gentle backwards jerk of his head, his brows still furrowed at you, acting as though it were supposed to be obvious that he’d been pulled to do it. He continued, “It wasn’t right for me to not hear you out when I got home. . . Real dickhead move.” 

Yeah, it wasn’t right, you mused internally. You are correct in that, Jacob Thomas. Thank you for seeing the truth of the matter.

Mentally, you were nodding your head to agree, but on the outside, you merely stuck out your bottom lip in contemplation before slapping on a tight-lipped smile.

“It’s fine,” you shook your head, once again not being transparent in your emotions regarding the matter. 

“No, it wasn’t ‘fine’, y/n. And you know it,” he replied, trying to continue this conversation that you needed to end. 

“Jake. I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t owe me anything. I survived. It did not affect me at all,” you lied, each word like battery acid against your tongue. Felt wrong. “It wasn’t a big deal.” 

Except that it was, an inner voice tried to remind you. A big ass deal, in fact. Your daughter had made it a big deal.

But you didn’t want to tell him right now. Not yet. Sharing the news would keep you in this parking lot longer and you were ready to leave. Needed some time to breathe. You could tell him next time it happened. He had no clue it had happened in the first place, so it didn’t matter anyhow. Ignorance was bliss. . . Right? 

“What was it?” He asked, stepping forward just a bit. It seemed he was letting the tender moment take over for him. 

You knew he wanted to continue this and for everything to be okay. . . But now wasn’t the time for that. You didn’t want that right now. Because, you wanted to continue being dishonest with him. You didn’t want to let the tenderness influence your actions. . . You’d already given in to it by turning to reassure him of what sort of ‘shape’ he was in.

“It wasn’t anything,” you said the same lie as before, just with different words that were laced with dishonesty. Needed to go. Seriously. There were quite literally people waiting for you. Elsie was surely counting the minutes until you got there to help with the Christmas meal prep. “I’m gonna go, though. . .”

You positioned yourself to get in the car completely when he cleared his throat to speak again. “What are you doing for Christmas today? Just gonna be with your grandparents and Elsie?” 

One of your feet was in the car, your ass nearly touching the seat. But you stayed slightly elevated to be polite. “Yeah,” you grinned, the thought of seeing them made your heart thrum. 

You truly loved your family. . . They were so damn special to you. They’d been with you through the lowest of lows and the highest of highs. . . You felt safe with them. 

But, what was strange was that you felt that safety with new people now. When, years ago, you didn’t think you ever would. . . Josh, obviously, had worked his way into your heart, yes. That had been a shock, all on its own. 

But. . . the man in front of you? He’d completely, unexpectedly, nestled into your heart further than any other person you’d ever known. It had resulted in you truly feeling safer with him than anyone else. Even with the amount of hurt that hung in the air between you, he brought a sense of calmness that no one else could. Peace. . . An unreal, inexplicably captivating amount. 

He was your Safe Place, after all. Your subconscious, completely uninhibited mind said so itself. 

You assumed it was all due to the sensation of being ‘in love’ with him. . . He was simply more than anyone else. Your love for him went to places it didn’t — couldn’t — for other people. Never had.

It took him a bit to respond, his gaze looking just as torn as you felt. “Cool,” he rasped, the smallest smirk on his lips as he took a step back. “Tell your grandparents I say hey.”

“Not Elsie?” You joked, winking his way. Continuing this interaction, against your better judgment. “I’m sure she has some stupid ass Urban-fucking-Dictionary thing to call what you’re asking me to do. . . Snubbing her and all,” you wrinkled your nose, feeling sort of cringy with your words. 

You continued rambling to stay in the moment with him. Being in his presence was what your heart craved. “Because, if this woman can’t be normal about the way she refers to human body parts and what stimulates them – something that none of us want to hear about, anyway – she sure isn’t going to be normal about other shit. . . She’ll be quite offended and I’ll have to suffer for it.”

He responded with a roll of his eyes that indicated he was in on your humor. The curve of his lips was becoming more prominent by the second. God, you didn’t want to leave him. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he responded with an intoxicatingly raspy half-laugh. “Best to not upset your sister. Tell her I said hi, too.”

He continued to back further away, out of the way. He was giving you space to get in the car. To drive away. To leave. . . And while you should have wanted to leave, you couldn’t. Didn’t seem like the right method of action now that he was apparently okay ending the conversation. Because, even if he was okay with leaving you be, you didn’t want it to be over.

No – what you wanted was for him to be at your grandparents’ with you today. . . 

So, without even thinking, you began. “Why don’t you just–?”

Fuck! No, y/n! What the hell? That is way too damn much to ask of him, the voice in your mind heckled you. Know your place, y/n. . .

Phone sex and his face between your legs was one thing. . . Inviting him over for ‘Christmas with the Family’? Another thing entirely. There was no way that wouldn’t freak him out, right? Besides, you had a feeling he already had plans with Maya. . . . It was safe to assume she’d already included him in some sort of festivity with her family today. . . .

“What was that?” He wondered aloud, a brow raising to encourage you. His tone was genuinely curious. . . And aggravatingly knowing in his question. 

You knew he knew what you were going to ask. 

But, you weren’t going to say it. Nope. 

“Nothing,” you replied with a gentle shake of your head, tucking some stray hair that had fallen behind your ear. “Merry Christmas, Ja–.”

“Wait. Before you leave–I have to ask. . .,” he began, his voice lowering a decibel that had your tummy flip-flopping. He rubbed at his chin in a way that you’d deem delicious in your increasingly hormonal state. Fuck. . . “Are you saying you don’t want to talk about stimulating body parts?” He grinned, the corners of his lips turned up. The dirty words, combined with his demeanor, was making your entire body light up. “Because. . . I’d beg to differ, babydoll.”

Babydoll. Shitfuck. The new pet name. The one that’d had your body keeling over and aching as you’d worked yourself up for him, not even forty eight hours ago. . .

Without any warning, the use of the name had you suddenly remembering everything you’d felt, holed up in that fucking family stall. . . How badly you’d needed him – needed him with you. The way your entire body had prepared itself for him. . . The mess of your release, all over the inside of your thighs. . . You’d been needy for him. All while he’d been hours away from you. . . 

Yet, now, he was right here. 

And, well, you still needed him. Badly. 

The flush in your cheeks took over as you stood before him, completely disorienting you for the time being. . . . . How long would it take for you to just go upstairs and let him. . . . .? God! No.

Christmas. Elsie. Grandma. Grandpa. Food.

So — before you could decide against it one more time, you shot him one more toss of your eyes and the tiniest smile. Weren’t going to be honest about how you felt about the matter. You’d made that deal with yourself already. Doing the same as him, and avoiding the full truth, was safest for the time being.

The blush in your cheeks absolutely gave you away, though. . . Unfortunately.

“Merry Christmas to you, Jake,” you said, stilling one final time and catching his eyes before you slipped completely inside of the Jetta. “And, yes, I will tell them all that you said hi.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Mostly, you were giving her shit when you said it. The wine had not been tempting to you in the slightest. But, the urge to give Elsie shit? That was very tempting. . . Especially as you watched her pour her glass of red and take a generous sip.

“You know how fucked up it is for you to drink that in front of a pregnant woman?” 

Elsie only rolled her eyes at your words with a swish of her wine before she took another sip. The pour, already nearly gone as she poured a touch more into the pretty holiday-themed glass. Her lips, the color of mulled wine, staining the holiday green and berries that decorated the glass. 

“You know how fucked up it is for you to say fuck on fucking Christmas?” She challenged back, setting the wine down to check her phone. 

With a little smirk, you went about finishing up the green bean casserole. When it was mixed to perfection, you opened the oven and popped it into the preheated chamber. Only a few spaces left for the rest of the food on the hot trays. You eyed the incredibly sized ham. The smell of it made your mouth water from its place on the bottom rack. 

Before your stomach threatened to fall to your feet from hunger, you shut the oven and wiped your hands. It was time to move on to the final touches of the sweet potato casserole, anyhow.

As you began peeling the boiled orange potatoes, you smiled upon hearing your grandparents’ laughter from their bedroom. It had become a tradition when you’d grown up and left the house that your grandparents wrap your presents Christmas morning while, respectively, you and Elsie would cook for everyone. 

As adults, you and your sister had insisted on making Christmas dinner for them. Both of you, finding it as a teeny-tiny way to pay them back for everything they’d done for you two over the years. A giant, delicious dinner to finish up every year – with all kinds of delicious foods, that showed gratitude to their unfailing, limitless love. A consistent love that you hadn’t known until living with them. Your mother had not even been close to being the one to ever show you the authenticity of an unconditional love. 

Which reminded you. . . Elsie still had no clue about your revealed memory. Mr. Morgan. Mom.

So, you decided you’d tell her. No better time like the present. And a little bit of fun talk for Christmas morning. . . . “You know how I’ve been doing EMDR?” 

“Yes!” She replied, looking up from her phone for the umpteenth time that morning. Thankfully, she was slipping it in her back pocket, not allowing it to be a distraction. “How’s that going? I’m sorry I’ve been shit at asking about it. Job change and the big move does have my mind a bit fucked,” she said, stirring the gravy before checking on the tenderness of the boiling potatoes that would soon become mashed. “From what I’ve read, that type of therapy can get pretty dark. . . Are you doing okay with all of that?” 

Though, as soon as she was saying her last few words, her phone was gaining her attention again, must’ve buzzed in her pocket. You thought you’d be lucky to have her attention, but you were quickly mistaken as she was checking her phone again. 

But it didn’t take her as long to answer this time, and she eventually sat her phone on the counter, giving you her undivided focus. 

Seriously. All morning. The texting.

Well. . . to be fair, it had started about an hour after you’d gotten here. The texting and/or simple act of checking shit on her phone had been nonstop. You assumed she’d been texting, though. You knew the way her mouth rested when texting. And the occasional blush on her cheeks, accompanied by tiny grins indicated it was most likely Josh on the other end. 

You caught a sly glimpse of the phone, since she’d actually set it on the counter this time. It had only been in her back pocket until now. But now that it was visible, your curiosity got the best of you. 

And, you were able to see the presumed perpetrator pop up on her screen. Three messages popping up under his name. One after the other. . . . And then a fourth, right before your eyes. Dear lord.

The man did not know how to send one concise text. . . One thought, never failing to be split into multiple bits.

Elsie had told you already that the curly headed twin would be coming later. You didn’t know where he was now — all you knew was he wasn’t there yet. You assumed he was spending Christmas morning – at the very least – with Jake and Sam. Even if Jake did have plans with Maya, you knew him better than to believe he hadn’t carved out time for his brothers on Christmas Day. 

Danny had mentioned going home for Christmas on game night, so you knew it was just the three brothers here in New York for the holiday. There was no way they hadn’t decided on doing something to celebrate.

Though, selfishly, you wanted Josh here with you; he was a comfort. And, Christmas mornings being more comfortable didn’t hurt. And, stupid as it was, on Christmas, you always began to miss your mom the slightest bit. . . The woman had more negativity associated with her than positivity – by a landslide. 

But. . . She was your mom. And she was gone. On Christmas. What was supposed to be the happiest day of the year. . . 

Although, (of course) the ‘missing’ always came with overwhelming resentment. . . so you only ever tried to block it out. But, with lovely EMDR, the feelings were much more prominent than usual – harder to block.

So, seriously. . .Warmth and comfort was a necessity. 

Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be experiencing your favorite source of comfort any more today. . . In the form of Josh’s twin. Fuck Maya. Seriously.

“Well,” you began with a slight pause, shifting your mind away from his goddess girlfriend. To busy your hands, you decided on grabbing a Bubly from the fridge. A newfound staple drink in your Grandma’s kitchen. Cherry, specifically. You popped the tab and took a sip before continuing, going to stand next to the sink as Elsie went about draining the now-fully boiled white potatoes and placing all of the food you’d prepared on the island. “I haven’t had too many dark sessions of unraveling the shit from our past. But. . . I did see mom again,” you paused, giving her time to respond to the words. 

But, she didn’t respond. No, instead, she was checking her phone. Yet again. 

So, you went on, trying to emphasize the importance of the previous words with your next to get her attention. “The first time I’ve been able to fully make out her face in years. . .” 

Still, though. No response. Her hands were slightly shaky, but the small, secret smile on her face as she stared at her screen, said it was a positive sort of shaking. They were truly insatiable. Whatever. Good for them and their happy relationship.

You continued, essentially talking to yourself at this point, it seemed. “EMDR is intense, but it has seriously worked wonders for me. . . You know, remembering things that I’ve forgotten and need to remember. It’s been a lot — especially with all of the mom shit. . . but it’s been worth it.”

To your surprise, she actually gave a response. But it was barely a response. She’d only offered a gentle,  “Yeah. . . Sounds like it.” But, still. She hadn’t stopped for a second what she was doing. 

She just kept busying herself with the food and her phone. Food, phone, food, phone. . .

Then, she was taking the lid off the pan on the stove to check on the cranberry sauce your grandma had put on. . . The vinegary, bitterly sweet cranberry sauce was the one thing your Grandmother still insisted on making. And, after a taste, Elsie was adding a touch more of raspberry vinegar to the pan. 

Normally, you loved your Grandma’s cranberry sauce. And, the smell of the red fruit and vinegar combination usually made you feel excited for the taste on your tongue. 

This Christmas, however, it was much different. 

The smell of the additional vinegar with the lid off of the pot, was making your stomach churn. And, as Elsie stirred it to mix the vinegar, your stomach rolled as the potently sour smell wafted through the air. 

The suddenly upset tummy only told you one thing: Lavender was not a fan of vinegar. . . And, chances were, she wouldn’t love Grandma’s cranberry sauce like her Mommy did. 

So, you backed away from the stove, your nose saved as you held your breath. You decided it was best to go to the opposite side of the kitchen with your sweet potato supplies. 

And once there, with your back turned to the stove, you let out the breath you’d been holding and finished peeling them. 

Once that step was over, you were dumping them into another bowl before holding your breath to gather the brown sugar and syrup that you’d mix in with them, from Elsie’s side of the kitchen. 

And, once you were at your counter again, you let out a ragged breath, your lungs not able to hold air to the same capacity they once could. With a baby steadily growing and taking up space that your organs usually did, something as simple as holding your breath looked much different now. 

The bright orange vegetables were cooked to perfection, breaking up smoothly under the potato masher you were wielding. The brown sugar and syrup were measured by eye, and dumped into the dish soon, once the potatoes were mashed properly. As always, you were readily looking forward to this scrumptious casserole. 

This was your favorite holiday dish. And, a big part of the reason you loved it so much was because it would eventually be finished off with little marshmallows. . . Yum. 

Thankfully, Lavender seemed to agree with her Mama on this one. 

Your mouth was still watering, as usual, at the smell of sweet potatoes. Your tummy rumbled as you held your breath again to face the direction of the stove.  

You dumped the mixture into the casserole dish sitting on the kitchen island. The dish had patiently awaited the potatoes on the kitchen island. 

The island held a variety of salads, fruits, crackers, dips, and veggies — all of them, littering the surface. These items were always first on the list to prepare, since they were good to snack on and couldn’t ‘get cold’. 

Once the sugary potato mix was pristinely pressed against the glass pan, you took a healthy whiff of the food you’d been working on. Then, you made your way back over towards the oven with the potatoes. Mouth closed. Nostrils saved, your stomach not in peril.

When you got to the stove, Elsie was opening the oven door to check on the ham. And once you were bending over to place your food on the last available spot in the oven, you quickly realized your sister was damn near shutting the oven door on your arm. 

“Elsie! Careful!” You urged, eyebrows creasing at the way her body seemed to be buzzing beside you. “Goddamn, sis.”

“Sorry,” she said on a distracted breath as she poked at the ham with the thermometer. “Just trying to finish this shit up. I’m starving.” 

You ignored her, your skin heating with annoyance. And, not just at her refusal to listen to you. No, it was because, for the second time that morning, you were being fibbed to by someone you loved. First, Jake. Now, Elsie. You knew there was more to why her shoulders were quivering with some sort of pent up emotion as she moved away to give you space. 

Whatever she and Josh were discussing was distracting her to a point of oblivion. . . It was just lovely. But, for now, you’d give her a pass and let her live in her own little world of bliss. One of you should get to.

Yet, her nervous energy was translating to you in a way you couldn’t ignore. Your hold on the dish, a little too tight. And, too late, you realized your unwavering hold on the glass had your pinky briefly touching the oven rack as you placed it there. The searing heat was instantaneous in its sensations, all the way from your smallest finger to your elbow, you felt it. 

Dammit! 

“Mother of fuck! Fuck it all to damn hell!” 

That sharp, stinging, and blistering pain was already forming a welp on your finger as you carefully removed your hand fully and shut the oven. Fuck, it hurt! 

The previous slew of dirty words blurted out of your mouth a touch too loudly, alerting your Grandmother, all the way from her bedroom. “Y/n y/m/n!” The older woman screeched in a motherly tone from the other room. Curse her super hearing abilities. You’d been blessed with a grandma who could hear a damn pin drop. . . her ears, continuing to refuse aging. “Watch your damn mouth!”

“Mary Jane!” You heard your Grandpa scolding her, just the same as she had you. 

Even with the pain that was radiating up throughout your entire hand, you couldn’t help the tiny grin at her own slip-up. At the same time, you turned the kitchen sink to the coldest it could go as you waited for it to chill completely.

Your Grandma was not a typical elderly woman. And you loved her so much for it. Prim and proper and so clean cut – yes. She was beauty, she was grace. . . But her mouth had always been one to slip a curse word in – whenever she wanted, a dirty word or two was known to slip past her lips.

It was no shock to you when the older woman came racing into the room to check on you. It seemed Elsie noticed your pain at the same time that your Grandma was entering the room, the younger woman’s body sidling up beside yours at the counter. Just as you were putting your hand under the chilling sink water, your Grandma was popping up at the other side.

The cold water against your hot flesh felt like heaven and hell, all at once. 

“Y/n, honey, put your hand under the water,” your Grandma said, on a hurried breath, even as she watched you do exactly that from her new spot beside you. “Goodness gracious, Lord have mercy, y/n.”

“I am, Grandma,” you replied with a small, huffy laugh. “Calm down.”

“Is your heart racing?” Elsie asked shortly after you finished speaking, her voice a bit shaky still. “Are you okay?” 

Are you okay, Elsie? You internally bated her as you turned to her to give her a look.

“Yes, babygirl. Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” Your Grandmother asked at the same time as your vibrating sister.

“You two. . . I am okay. Baby is okay,” you replied with a small grin, glancing over at your Grandma before focusing on your finger. “Can one of you get me a towel though?”

“Oh, shit. Yeah. I’ll get it. God,” Elsie responded instantly, seeming disappointed in herself. She slapped a hand to her forehead as she walked to do the task. “I’m sorry I’m so spacy. . .”

“You think?!” You hissed, though your mouth stayed curved in a smile. Staying mad at Elsie wasn’t easy.

“You’re spacy, Elsie Bug?” Grandma pondered from beside you, placing her hand on your back, the firm and reassuring touch floated soothingly  through your entire body. “What does that mean?”

“It means her head’s in the clouds, Grandma,” you said, on behalf of your bumbling sister. “Josh has her all weird and googly-eyed. Even over the phone. . . All morning and afternoon.”

Just as soon, Elsie was beside you again and slipping the tea towel under the sink’s freezing spray only briefly before holding it out for your hand. It took you a bit of time to oblige her, enjoying the feeling of the coolness against your burning flesh. Felt nice. 

But, the idea of the icy cold towel being snugly wrapped around your warm, persistently stinging finger sounded like a dream. So, turning off the water, you spun on your heel to face Elsie. Your back, now, to your Grandma. 

“You know why, Grandma,” Elsie insisted, shooting a look in the older woman’s direction, over your shoulder. “Remember what we talked about earlier? What I asked you about?”

“What does that mean?” You pried at her, brows drawn in with utter confusion. 

What in the fuck could she be hiding? And your Grandma knew about it, too? Was this why Elsie was acting so weird? She always got nervous and edgy when it came to surprises. . . 

After budging at her figuratively, you did so literally, with your elbow against her arm, as she attempted to wrap your finger tightly in the soft material. The movement of your arm took your hand from her grip momentarily, making her growl. 

“Y/n. Quit. Let me wrap your finger.”

“Elsie.”

“Oh! Yes! Our extra gue–.” But, before she could finish, she was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Well, lookie there! That must be them!” 

Them? What? Your mind was going a mile a minute. What were they implying?

It took almost no time for your Grandmother to race to the front door on her spindly legs. The woman was still rather fit for her age of almost 75. She’d taken her health very seriously, always. . . which you’d always admired about her.

It took less than a minute for her to get there, with the door to the house being on the other side of the wall. And, instantly, upon opening, you heard Josh’s rather cheerful voice through the wall. 

Elsie’s hand stilled on top of yours, mid-towel wrap. You looked at her curiously, her touch slightly clammy on your skin.

“Ms. Mary Jane!” He exclaimed familiarly, his voice quite actually reverberating off the walls of the house. “A very Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays to you, madam!”

Then, without any warning, he was very loudly singing “Mary Jane” by Rick James. . . to your Grandmother. Thankfully, he was leaving out the slightly explicit parts about Mary Jane turning him on and shit. Your eyes went to the wall, as if he could see your raised brow at the song choice.

While you were cringing at the song, it was only sending your Grandma into a fit of laughter. 

“Woo!” You heard your Grandma squeal from the entryway. “I wasn’t prepared for the dancin’, Joshua!”

Oh, Josh. . .

“Oh my god,” Elsie said to you, snickering under her breath. A little laugh left her lips as she rolled her eyes. “He is a mess.” 

The continued laughter that came through the wall made a smile fit to your lips. But you couldn’t let the moment pass without a comment about the song. With a tap against your hand, you noticed Elsie tying a bow with the small towel, leaving your now-wrapped hand. 

But, rather than running to Josh, she was checking on the ham – again. It shocked you that she wasn’t rushing to Josh. But, since she wasn’t, you didn’t. 

You also took notice of the fact that she wasn’t shaking anymore. . . Which relieved you. . . . But left you wondering what it meant. Had she just been dying for Josh to get here?

You stood in your place to joke with him, through the wall. Your voice raised slightly for him to hear you through the love song he continued to sing. “Rick James, Josh? Seriously?”

Just as soon as you’d asked your question, he was rounding the corner into the kitchen. 

But, the joke died on your lips – your mind completely blanking – as soon as the curly headed man made it into the room. 

 Because, trailing behind him was. . . Jake. 

You were pretty sure your heart stopped in your chest at the sight of him. The breath in your lungs, completely desolate from your chest with a single gasp. 

Oh, Jake. 

He looked so handsome in his all black attire. Black sweater, black jeans. And those worn, black Chelsea boots. . . The coins he’d started wearing, laying just right between his chest muscles. . . His long hair — various strands still damp from an apparent shower. . . Fuck. 

And his face, the most stunning part of all. He rivaled every other man you’d ever laid eyes on. No, didn’t rival — kicked them out of the ball park. He was immaculate, perfection in the most incredible form. 

Those features you’d studied for mornings and nights on end, nearly mirroring whatever expression you were making. A sort of stunned look behind his dark, deep set eyes.

You could see his apparent delight at the sight of you — in the loose grin that adorned his pretty lips. 

Though, rather than shock on his face (like you knew was painted on yours), he was waiting to see what your surprise entailed. It was as though he was waiting to see if you’d be more thrilled or upset by his presence. 

You observed his brown eyes, golden in the late afternoon sun shining in from the window behind you. Just like this morning. . . 

Those eyes, scanning your face, waiting to see how you felt about his arrival. And, rather than making the man suffer, you decided to show him. 

While you knew you couldn’t walk over to him and create a display, you knew you had to do something that would properly express the hope blossoming in your chest at the sight of him. The lack of display was upsetting, yes, but you were sure it would stun your poor Grandmother. The woman was oblivious to all of the parts and pieces of the ‘Jake and y/n puzzle’. 

Completely and totally oblivious.

You had to trust that your response would be fitting.

As he moved towards you, your heart plunged into the pit of your throat. He was coming up to you, just as Josh was to Elsie. He wasn’t touching you, but he was only a foot away, at best, as Josh and Elsie collided in a hug. 

He was still not as close as you wanted him, as he shuffled on his feet. But, he was as close as he could be. . . And the fact that he was near at all — in the same damned house as you — that was all that mattered. 

You let your lips rise in the most natural smile you’d felt since his initial return home last night. 

The same appreciation and whim that had been evident in your heart then was absolutely present now. Was this your second try? After all, he had come here. . . Though, had it fully been his choice? 

God, you didn’t know. And that was all it took for you to tone down just enough to stay in the reality of the situation. He was here, but he wasn’t yours. . . He wasn’t here as your boyfriend. He was here as Josh’s brother. 

But still, you didn’t hide the feelings swarming in your heart. You let your eyes communicate your unadulterated, contented bliss. . . 

And with the way his own eyes sunk into yours, you knew he understood — just enough. 

He knew that you were happy he was here. You could tell by the way his features softened.

And, that was all you needed at the moment. Just wanted him to know — ‘all was well’. 

“What brings you here, Jacob?” You asked with a bit of a teasing lilt in your tone. You had to remember you were being watched by an unassuming Grandma.

But, to your appeasement, she was soon escorting herself out of the vicinity. “I’m going to help Grandpa finish the gift wrapping! We are just about done,” she clarified. And, to not seem suspicious, your eyes went to watch her instead of the man who stood a few feet in front of you. “We’ll be ready to eat in an hour or so, girls!”

And, as she left, Jake came just the slightest bit closer. . . Enough closer that you could smell the vanilla laced with the sandalwood and amber in his cologne. . . Your favorite smell. 

“Just thought I’d join Josh on this excursion,” he clarified, his words authentic with the slightest bit of mystery hiding behind the phrase. “Sounded to me like this is the place to be. . .”

And, at the sound of his voice, you felt her. 

For the briefest of moments, for the first time since last night, you felt a little rustle in your belly that you now knew as a Lavender kick. 

And after the first, came another swift one, right where you’d felt her the night before. Her body was positioned in a way that you felt her little feet, right below your belly button. 

The timing was perfect for you to tell Jake about the kicks. He was right here this time. Right in front of you. And, you were just about to when he reached up to rub his chin. 

It was then, though, that you spotted a thick, dark silver ring on the middle finger of his right hand. . . Wasn’t wearing any of his other rings around this one. . . It was obviously a special piece of jewelry. 

This one, seeming to match the coins around his neck — that one-of-a-kind, antique silver that is unattainable unless you have money. . . A new ring that appeared to cost a lot of money. . .

You were hoping against hope that Josh had bought it for him. . . Or, maybe Jake had purchased it for himself? 

Surely Maya hadn’t. . . Right? It looked like an old, piratical relic. And last you knew, she couldn’t remember the difference between pirates and fucking mythology. . . Seriously, again — what in the fuck? Knowing that about the woman still got you.

So, really, you settled a decent amount. . . It was near impossible that it had been from her. 

Perhaps, he’d had it for a while, but had never worn it around you? Or you just hadn’t paid close enough attention to his wardrobe to notice? Yet, that was a fat chance. 

Maybe he’d bought it for himself with these new label paychecks. . . However, you knew the jewelry he gravitated towards. 

And, really, you paid very close attention to his wardrobe — perhaps more so now, than before. It was all your longing gaze had to torture you with. . . Concentrating on every Jake detail was the gospel for you. 

All of that to say, he had his ‘go-to’ rings. The same four or five silver rings — anytime he wore hand jewelry, those were his staples. So, truly. . . You knew this had to be a newer ring. One you’d yet to see. . .And, even if you hated the answer, you had to know who had bought it. 

Stupid, stupid idea. . . Why did you choose to do this shit to yourself? 

Whether you should have or not, you (foolishly) asked. “Who got you the fancy ring? Haven’t ever seen that one. . .”

The moment you saw the little twinge in his brows and the thoughtful purse of his lips. . . you knew you shouldn’t have asked. Fuck it all. His eyes glanced down at the hand he was, now, holding out at his waist between you two. Like it held all of the answers on how to respond to such a question. 

As if she’d sensed the new topic of conversation, and her mommy’s stress, Lavender began kicking harder. She was trying to gain your attention, it seemed. And while she absolutely had your attention, so did her father. . . Who you were still waiting on an answer from. 

After he’d taken a few too many seconds to deliberate an answer, and Elsie and Josh were seemingly in their own world, you decided you’d pry further. If they were distracted, you couldn’t embarrass yourself in front of your sister and your friend if Jake were to act annoyed with your additional prodding. 

You raised your brow at him. And, doing your best to ease any tension, you lightly tapped the top of his boot with a sock-clad toe. 

“Hey. . .,” you tried, leaning over a bit to get a better look at his face, which was now looking up from the floor. But, not at you. No way. He was very concerned with the window to Grandma’s garden behind you. Why had you asked about that damn ring? “Jake. You okay?” 

And, still, he didn’t respond with words, but he was at least looking at you again. All he did with his mouth was lick his lips; which, in turn, caused your insides to shiver with desperation for him. It made you feel even worse. This entire situation was so fucked. 

So, you back-tracked. Tried to save face. “Y-you don’t have to answer; I was just being nosy. It’s not my business to—.”

“You know who did, y/n,” he finally spoke, so quietly and with a tone that seemed too short for your taste. 

There wasn’t any way to stop the way your eyes leveled with his. You glared at him, hard. Right into those eyes. The same eyes you saw behind yours in every dream, the ones you wished to be the same to grace Lavender’s pretty face. . . 

But you weren’t feeling sentimental. Even as he seemed to soften, once again, under your penetrating, pinning stare. You weren’t having it. He’d made you mad. 

What was his problem with you simply asking a damned fucking question? You instantly took back feeling bad about asking. While it might not have been your business, it was a friendly conversation starter. 

And he was cutting you off mid-ramble, acting put out with you for asking about a motherfucking ring?

Lavender’s kicking continued on, growing feistier by the second. And with one particular jab to your bladder, you suddenly had no time to entertain Jake’s moody ass. Fuck him and his stupid ring, you suddenly had to pee. 

You were absolutely going to pee down your leg if you stood there a second longer. 

She was pressing so adamantly against you that the pain was sharp and dull all at once. You felt the buzzing throb, warning that your body would open with no chance of stopping if you weren’t quick.

Fuck. 

Without taking another second, you were shoving past him, taking out your frustration a bit while you could. Before you could leave the kitchen to get to the hallway bathroom, though, he was softly grasping your arm to make you pause. 

God. No, Jacob. Not the time.

He was already pissing you off. And now his daughter was insisting you needed to piss this badly, because of the bit of Bubly that you’d indulged in over the past hour. 

And, his surprise arrival definitely had you feeling all jittery and on edge. . . In a way you wanted to enjoy. But you couldn’t. He was making that impossible. With the blessed piece of silver on his finger and his snippy ass mouth. 

All of the fire you felt in your chest, you channeled to reflect in your irises as your eyes snapped to his. 

He looked apologetic. Good for him.

And, when he spoke again, his inflection proved the emotion emanating from his beautiful, amber-brown eyes. “Y/n, I didn’t mean—.”

Just as you felt his hand flex around your forearm, you yanked it from his grip, stumbling back a bit with the action. Which, of course, he reached out to help with instantly. 

“No, Jake,” you growled, holding both hands out to avoid his touch. Didn’t need his hands distracting you. Fuck him and his incredible hands. On top of that, a fucking tsunami was threatening to burst the dam of your body, lest you leave. “Not now.”

Seconds later, you were finally on your way out of the kitchen. And even as he tried to stop you again, calling your name once to stop you, you didn’t hear him. . . 

Because, all you could focus on was the heavenly hallway bathroom that finally came into view. The room that would offer you sweet, sweet relief. Relief of the heinous, painful strain of your damned bladder. . . 

As well as relief from the unexpected, aggravatingly delicious presence of Jacob fucking Kiszka. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

“What’s got your panties in a twist, Jacob?” Josh poked, raising his brow at the twin that stood behind you. 

He was right. His brother’s panties were, in fact, in a damn twist. 

For the past hour since they’d arrived and he’d pissed you off in the kitchen, Jake had become oddly quiet. 

You hadn’t gone out of your way to talk to him and ask him about it. . . Couldn’t. Didn’t want to. . . . Or so you tried to convince yourself. And, you were succeeding by playing oblivious to how your shitty response had turned into his now-shitty mood. 

It was annoying how you were still feeling in his presence, no matter how badly he made you want to punch a wall. Where Elsie had once been ridiculously jittery and weird, you now were. It felt juvenile. . . Felt like you were a preteen girl whose damned crush was hanging out with her for the first time. 

Every time you glanced his way, your heart quite actually twisted in your chest at the mere sight of how handsome he was. . . How damn good he smelled, attacking you, every time he came near to you. . . 

And, while you were finally (mostly) over the little fit concerning the ring, you didn’t want to make yourself vulnerable to him. You knew you couldn’t handle a conversation and keep face. Especially not one about how he was feeling. You were not going to ask if he was ‘okay’ again. Not right now. . . 

But. . . there was a conversation was coming. You could feel it.

“They’re not in a twist, Josh,” he growled with a huff, his voice close at your back. Goosebumps were persisting on your neck. He’d come to stand behind you a few minutes prior as he’d finished conversation with your Grandpa in the other room. 

He’d joined you immediately after his conversation, as you took photos of Josh and Elsie. “And panties?” He hushed at Josh, tone distressed, worried. “Really? In front of their grandparents?”

“They’re not even in the room, Jake,” Elsie said with a snort, snuggling closer to Josh for another picture. “And they’ve heard worse than panties. Scout’s honor.”

Jake scooted closer to you. He hadn’t been bold enough to come much closer until now. He’d kept a safe distance from a couple of feet away. 

But, not now. Now, he was inches away from your ass. You could feel how close he was, by the way his body heat radiated to your body. 

Deciding to just suck it up — and not able to resist the urge to tend to his needs — you looked up and over your shoulder at him. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. You would never get used to how handsome he was.  

“Jake,” you tried quietly, immediately gaining his attention. His face softened as soon as he was looking at you. Josh and Elsie were in their own little world already, giggling with each other and having a tickling contest or some shit. Gross. “There’s no need to be tense or anything. Just relax and enjoy yourself. It’s Christmas.”

His jaw went loose momentarily, then it was flexing again, before his next words. “Yeah, but you haven’t been acting like yourself and I feel like it’s my—.”

“Rolls and cranberry sauce are finished!” Grandma was suddenly piping up from the kitchen doorway. 

It was time for Christmas dinner. . . And, as if on cue, you felt your tummy rumble a bit. 

Somehow, you’d been able to put off how insanely hungry you were for all of this food. . . As a constantly hungry pregnant woman, on Christmas, you’d ignored your hunger for the holiday food. Damn. That was saying something about your headspace when it came to Jake.

“Let’s eat, girls and boys,” your Grandpa added, coming up behind the white haired lady. His thick, black and gray eyebrows raised as he looked at you all, awaiting a response. “Gotta get this goin’. I’m hungry.” 

And, then, they were both disappearing from the doorway. You assumed they were on their merry way to find their own places at the table. Following in their lead was all you wanted at the moment, as your tummy tickled at you again for satiation.

“Let’s go eat,” you brought the phone down, clicking it shut to give your full attention to him. Both of you turned a little until you were fully facing each other. You tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “You can sit next to me?”

The offer came on its own, your heart speaking for you. And there was that fucking vulnerability you’d been afraid of showing. 

He breathed, his chest visibly deflating with relief. A grin quirked his lips, his brows rising. “I would love that.”

“What about our picture?” Elsie whined from where she stood, now-behind you from where you’d turned to Jake. 

Jake’s loose, lopsided grin made butterflies swarm your chest and belly. You felt his emotion, throughout your veins. His eyebrows raised in amusement, as you rolled your eyes at Elsie’s continued bickering. 

You had to turn to her to show her your irritation, forcing you to turn your back on Jake again. . . Which only irritated you further.

“Come on, y/n. Please,” she huffed, literally stomping her foot. “I took too damn many of you the other night for you to not return the favor. And you were basically fucking naked! This is nothing.”

Jake’s throat cleared behind you and your cheeks blushed as crimson as your grandmother’s living room walls. “Elsie Mabel,” you scolded her. “Seriously?!”

“Oh my god, Hormonal Holly,” she sassed, narrowing her eyes at you. “Cut the shit, shut the fuck up, and just take one more picture. Goddamn.”

“It’s nice to be young and in love on Christmas,” Josh explained, unnecessarily. 

Seriously. What the fuck, Josh?

“It absolutely is,” Elsie reiterated, pressing against him and pressing her lips to his. 

O-kay. Dear God. You couldn’t take anymore of the cutesy couple-y shit. So, yanking the phone out again, you started snapping pictures. 

Whatever ploy this was, it was working to get under your skin just enough. 

And you had a damned good feeling you knew exactly what they were doing. . .

-🌼🌼🌼-

When the cranberry sauce was being passed at the table, two people away from you, you instantly stilled and closed your eyes. You really didn’t want to puke. . . So, you did your best to ignore the smell, holding your breath. 

Jake noticed, placing a gentle hand on your thigh under the table as soon as your body stiffened. Your skin heated at his touch immediately. The butterflies were flying rampantly in your tummy. 

Naturally, you leaned over towards him and away from your Grandmother on your right side. When you were facing him completely, you looked up and into his eyes. 

“You okay?” He asked, Amber-brown eyes wide and curious. 

“The sauce—,” you gasped momentarily, catching a brief whiff when you stopped holding your breath. 

Your stomach rolled, the nearer it came. His hand tightened on your thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. So, you decided to not try to speak, instead, throwing your pointer finger over his shoulder and placing a hand over your mouth. 

He peeked behind him, seeing exactly what you were referring to. 

“Oh. . . Don't like cranberry sauce?” He quietly asked, grinning down at you. Both of you, in this little world with each other as everyone else rambled on about nothing around you. 

His hand was still comfortably on your thigh, his thumb creating soothing circles on the top of it.

Rather than taking the easy way out and just shaking your head, you decided to try speaking again. You opened your mouth, hushing the word, “Vinegar.”

Though, when the smell momentarily infiltrated your senses with the opening of your mouth, you almost hurled. 

Your eyes pinched shut to find a sense of calm, covering your mouth and nose with one hand. His thumb was now creating careful stripes against your cashmere pants. You blinked your eyes open at him again. A small grin settled on your lips as you went to hold your breath once more. 

The way he was looking at you had your skin growing warm. His irises held every bit of care the man could muster, you were sure of it. His own smile was secretive and it made you want to kiss him. . . So, so badly wanted to kiss him. . . Especially as his thumb went to move nearer to your inner thigh. His fingers, now nestled on the softer, inner part of your thigh, in the crease made between your legs. 

Your core was heating up at how near he was to where you needed him most. For a second, you forgot you felt sick at all. . . Your heart, thumping hard against your chest and distracting you from the momentary crisis. 

Then, he was speaking again. “I don’t like vinegar either,” he said with a wink, his hand held tight to your thigh. You were glad you were turned away from your Grandmother, not wanting her to be privy to this interaction that was making your skin catch fire. “Hate it, actually.”

Wait. . . . Your brows crinkled in wonder. . . .

Oh my god. . ., you realized, watching the sparkle of the dining room light flicker in his eyes. Is it because of him? Can babies inherit food aversions in the womb? 

You didn’t know, but it seemed like a logical assumption. Your heart leaped at the thought of her already inheriting his traits. It was at that same moment that he also let go of your thigh, coming out of the little world you two had created to address his brother. 

Josh was apparently speaking, trying to get Jake’s attention and effectively broke you two out of the little world you’d created for the past couple of minutes.

You were definitely upset by the loss of contact for a few seconds before you found reprieve in watching the back of his head. . . His gorgeous, long locks. . . Thicker than one might think, always taking so long to dry. Even though they’d been here for over an hour, you still saw a couple of damp strands from a shower he must’ve taken before arriving. . . . 

It was ridiculous that his hair was enough to make you feel better. 

God, you had it bad. . .  That was for sure.

You watched as he held a hand up towards Josh. Thank god. Because he was just about to pass the cranberries to Jake. . . . 

Oh, Jake, your hero. . . .

“Oh, yes. . .,” Josh said, snapping you completely out of your reverie. You turned back to face forward in your seat when you saw him pointing a finger towards his brother, whose hand now sat on his own thigh instead of yours. You admired the veins in Jake’s hand as it laid on his leg. . . His long fingers. . . . Those digits, so skilled. The sight and thoughts had your head spinning. 

The louder twin was turning back to Elsie with the sauce, where she held it, curiously eyeing you, not yet placing it back in the middle of the table. 

The curly headed twin decided to inform the whole table of what was happening when he spoke next. “Jacob, here, has an aversion to vinegar. . . Always has hated it.”

“Grandma’s one dish, Jake? Can’t even try it?” Elsie questioned, jokingly. She wanted in on it, but she was still silently questioning. 

She was still holding the bowl in her hands. Though, she was about to ask a follow up question — you could see it in her eyes. You had no idea what it was going to be, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to hear it.

But, thankfully, Grandpa beat her to it with his own reassuring statement. 

“Eh, it’s alright, kid,” Grandpa said with a small smile aimed towards Jake. The gray-haired man was putting some mac and cheese on his plate before passing that ceramic bowl to your Grandma. “It is delicious, my MJ. . . Just can’t be everyone’s cup of tea, hm?”

“Of course not, Harold. No harm, no foul,” she agreed, looking over at Jake with understanding painted on her beautifully aged features. She truly did age so incredibly well. You could only hope you’d be so lucky. “I’m not offended at all, Jake.”

Grandma smiled at something Josh said. But, you weren't aware of what he’d said because you could only stare at Jake, as he turned towards your Grandmother. 

“I promise I’ll try anything else you cook, Ms. Mary Jane,” he said in response to her, giving her an easy smile. Your chest ignited at the sight of the dimple in his cheek. “It’s not you, swear.”

“I believe you, sweetie. You’re welcome here anytime to try any and all of my other cooking,” Grandma assured before she was tapping you with a graceful finger. “Y/n. . . I’m sure you want some of the mac and cheese? You make it so deliciously, honey pie.”

When you were turning from Jake to grab the bowl from her, your Grandpa was still carrying on with your roommate. 

“Oh, Jacob. . .,” your Grandpa started as he forked at his green bean casserole. “Y/n’s homemade mac and cheese, kid. . . Woo-wee! My little Sugarplum is a fantastic little chef when she wants to be. . . You’ve gotta try it, son,” he encouraged, before taking a bite of his green beans. 

“Of course I’ll try it, sir,” Jake responded, nudging your shoulder with his own. You blushed under his attention, trying to focus on the warm noodle dish in your hands. “I do a lot of the cooking at home. . . Never really give her a chance to cook for me. Guess I should sometime, hm?”

Fuck. That sounded domestic. . . Too domestic. You didn’t look at him, kept your head down with a little smile on your lips as you hummed a sort-of response. When you passed the macaroni his way, your Grandpa’s little giggle caught your attention.  

Yes, giggle. 

What the hell? 

Had he caught on to Jake’s couple-y remark? Shit.

You looked his way, seeing he’d swallowed his last bite and was taking a drink of water. Then, he was grinning. “There’s no vinegar in it, Jacob – don’t worry,” he grinned, winking at Jake with a twinkle in his eye. “Unless y/n slipped some in this year. . .”

Thank god. You were very relieved that no one had picked up on Jake’s previous statements. . . Didn’t need anyone thinking too much of anything.

“Oh, yes, Grandpa. . . Vinegar in macaroni and cheese sounded too damn good. . .couldn’t resist the urge,” you sarcastically responded. Shaking your head at the older man, you released your own little giggle.

Your Grandpa’s joy around Jake was something you really, really loved. . . You couldn’t blame the old man for brightening up around the younger one. Jake brought the same immense joy to you. He made your heart feel warm in your chest.

“Okay, are we just going to ignore the elephant in the room? We all know — well, besides the twins — how much y/n loves Grandma’s cranberry sauce. . . Don’t you want some, y/n?” Elsie piped up from where she sat at the round table. She was across from you, and you caught her eyes with a raised brow. 

Was she forgetting you didn’t get to call the shots with what you ate these days? 

There was a tiny human who did a lot of the deciding. “The baby doesn’t like it,” you told her, sticking out your bottom lip. 

And, to avoid more questioning or Jake saying something without thinking (again), you decided to say something to (kind of) change the subject. 

You’d go ahead and drop the news you’d been anxiously waiting to divulge to your grandparents for weeks now. . . . News that you wanted so badly to share – even more than the news of the kicking. 

. . .which you still hadn’t told anyone about. Because, the more you’d considered it, the more wrong it felt to tell anyone before Jake. . . She was his baby, after all. Yours and his. . . No one else’s.

“I’d rather not upset the baby girl,” you remarked, looking down for a second to play it off. 

But, you couldn’t help the temptation to look over towards your Grandma when you heard her fork clatter against her plate. Elsie’s flare for dramatics came naturally from the gene pool. Your Grandma’s face made yours light up. Her blue, glassy eyes were wide with excitement, her mouth hanging open. 

“Y/n y/m/n. . . What in the heavens did you just tell us, sneaky pants?” She remarked, her tone one of a wise, all-knowing parent. “Did I just hear that my great grandbaby is a—?”

“A girl,” your Grandpa finished, from where he sat beside Elsie. His voice was full of pride. And when you looked his way, you saw the tears glistening in his eyes. His face read nothing but grandfatherly pride, his lips shaky with a small smile.

Your own eyes filled with wetness. Seeing your Grandpa so vulnerable was something you truly treasured. All your life, you’d wished to know every part of the (more-than-slightly grumpy) old man. . . And the more he opened up in recent months, the closer you got to knowing more and more of him. It was a dream for you, quite honestly. You’d always felt an innate sense of closeness to him. . . An unspoken understanding.

Back in the present moment, you were momentarily nervous over something you hadn’t really considered. . . 

Jake’s very apparent lack of reaction. 

You were too afraid to check his face for fatherly pride. All for the simple fact that you didn’t want him to accidentally out your fling to your grandparents. Though, thankfully, the two elderly people at the table didn’t catch onto Jake’s reaction. . . Or, lack thereof. 

Here was what worried you: you knew it would make sense to your grandparents for Josh and Elsie to already know. But would it make sense for your roommate to know the gender before family? 

Fuck. You didn’t know. You’d never done this shit before. But, even considering the fact that they had no clue who the father was, they still didn’t seem too worried by Jake’s non-response. . . 

Chances were, they just thought a roommate might not care so much about such a thing. And they were probably right to assume that. An ordinary male roommate probably wouldn’t care. 

But he wasn’t an ordinary male roommate. . . 

Noticeably, you weren’t involving him at the moment. And you hated it. You felt really bad for not — but it wouldn’t make any sense to your grandparents if you did. . . 

Though, Jake had to know something was amiss. You knew he did. . . Your back was turned to him during this important moment concerning his daughter, for God’s sake. . . Completely closing him out. . . Like he wasn’t involved at all.

Guilt overtaking you, you sent the briefest of peeks his way, only to find him forcing a toothless smile as he stared down at his plate. It wasn’t natural, you knew that much. And his leg was bouncing under the table to indicate he was feeling strange. 

But, to make matters worse, you watched his next move. Saw it happening before it actually happened. The tousling of the long hair over his ear was enough to show you that he, in fact, was not doing okay. 

He was definitely feeling jittery. He wanted to say something, you were sure, but he wasn’t going to say anything without you including him first. 

And he, by god, was not going to look at you. His eyes were trained on his hand, which was fidgeting with his fork against his plate. 

God. You felt so bad. Why hadn’t you just told them? They were going to find out eventually. . . 

Well. . . You knew why. You didn’t really know how to confess to a friends-with-benefits situation. . . . . to your grandparents. 

And now was definitely not the time you wanted to divulge that information. You’d already given them enough big news for one evening. The gender was a big deal. Only you, Jake, Josh, and Elsie had known. . . And now, your grandparents were in on the secret. It was exactly how you wanted it for the time being. No one else needed to know yet. 

“So, if she’s a girl. . .,” your Grandma started from beside you, causing you to look over and blink a few times in her direction. “Does she have a name?”

“Yes . . .,” you grinned, skin heating and stomach swirling with anticipation under the dubious expression on her finely wrinkled face. 

More than anything, you wanted to turn to Jake and have him say her name. . . Wanted to give him something exciting to share. But you knew you couldn’t.  

And it fucking gutted you. Made you feel like shit. Because it was his news to share, too. . . 

But, with the questioning gazes coming from your Grandmother and Grandfather, you knew you had to be the one to say it. They wanted to know now. And, as much as you wanted Jake to tell them right now, you’d put yourself in this position. 

“Lavender. . . her name is Lavender.”

And, even with your Grandmother’s crushing hug and elated words over all things Lavender, your heart continued to sink. Your Grandmother and Grandfather began debating, right in front of you, which big item they wanted to purchase for the baby first. But. . . you weren’t thinking about that. 

No, all you were concerned with was the man beside you. And you truly couldn’t resist the urge to flick your eyes to Jake amidst the joyous moment. 

But, still, he wasn’t looking anywhere near you. His eyes were still pointed towards the table, his thumbs now twiddling underneath the table, anxiously. 

Everyone flipping shit over the baby, and meanwhile, the  man who helped you make the baby was being left out completely. It was ironic that the moment was happening now. . . considering it had all started with the fact that you couldn’t eat the cranberry sauce this year. 

And the only reason you couldn't was because the baby bouncing in your womb had inherited the distaste from him. 

That was how closely entwined he was with it. She was half of him. She’d already inherited traits of his. Yet, the older people at the table had no clue that he’d had anything to do with it. 

Saying that you were at a loss would be a massive understatement.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

A couple of hours later, saw you in a much better mental headspace. 

Considering you were elbow deep in gifts now, you were able to divert your thoughts from the evening’s earlier events. And, one good thing was, aside from the pure sadness that had transferred from Jake’s heart and directly to yours, the rest of dinner had gone well. 

The topic of conversation had moved away from Lavender quite quickly. You hadn’t been able to stand watching Jake’s heart break right in front of you for much longer. So, after watching him for less than a minute and not knowing what to say to him, you’d decided to change the table’s topic to how good the ham was this year. 

And, with said subject change, Elsie had jumped head first into accepting the compliment. . . Which had gotten things going, once again, in a good direction. 

Truly, everything tasted better this year. It seemed that every year, you and Elsie got the hang of things just a little more than the year previous. 

It hadn’t taken long, then, for Jake and your Grandpa to wind up talking like old buddies, over music. And for the rest of your time at the table, you’d admired Jake with little chance glances. Though, there’d been no glances from him in your direction. 

You couldn’t blame him. And you hadn’t wanted to push him too far by inserting yourself in a conversation about your shared favorite thing (besides Lavender, of course). 

More than likely, he was less than impressed by your method (or lack thereof) of involving him in the Lavender conversation. Still now, you had the feeling that he wasn’t happy about any of it. 

Even as they were still going on about the music, Jake had chosen to not sit close to you. He was sitting on the couch a few feet behind you, ignoring you for your Grandpa — who sat in his chair across the room. 

You’d never witnessed your Grandpa be so open and talkative with someone who wasn’t in the family. . . But it made for a rather harmonious and divine holiday. You could listen to them talk for hours on end and never tire of it. . . Even when you had a bad feeling Jake was upset by your choices. 

And, there hadn’t been any more Lavender kicks to bring any other sense of completeness to your heart. It was as if she wasn’t pleased with you either. You couldn’t blame her or her father.

In the present time, you were, yet again, seeming to go against what she wanted. . . Your back was screaming at you as you sat on your knees, something you had never experienced before pregnancy. The back pain was a real enemy of yours.

You’d done a good job of ignoring it for the majority of the present unwrapping, but now you were shifting, every so often to sit slightly differently. When you were on your second to last gift, you decided criss-cross applesauce would just have to do. You were the last kid unwrapping — per usual. Josh and Elsie had already opened theirs, by age, and Jake hadn’t had a single gift. At which, he’d made sure to emphasize to your worried Grandmother that it was ‘completely okay’ and that he ‘wasn’t worried about it in the slightest.’  

Josh and Elsie’s gifts were the only ones left for you to unwrap at this point. But, even with only two gifts remaining, you couldn’t do any more of your heels pressing into your ass. Sore ass fuckin’ body.

The paper they’d chosen was shiny, just like yours. It caught every glimmer from the tree’s twinkling lights.

And, even if Josh hadn’t labeled his, you didn’t even have to guess whose was whose. 

Elsie’s corners were tucked (more like untucked) in the familiar way they always had been. While Josh’s gift was wrapped exquisitely, Elsie’s was wrapped. . . Not so exquisitely. Then Josh’s, labeled with a ‘to’ and ‘from’ and Elsie’s, with your name, scribbled in the top corner of the present from her. Her script alone was a dead giveaway. 

Josh’s gift came first. Once unwrapped, you found it in a smaller, long, slim box. A shallow box that didn’t give much room for anything too flashy. Josh’s gifts were always very thoughtful. Always drastically different than the last. 

For example, your birthday gift in February, had been the soft, fluffy blanket you loved so much and used every day. And with this box, you knew it would be nowhere near a blanket of any sort. Not even a baby blanket. 

You had no idea what to expect. All you knew was when you opened it to find a gift certificate for a professional maternity shoot, you could safely say that had been the last of your guesses.  

“Oh my god. . . Is this why you were so insistent on me understanding there was nothing wrong with my body the other night?” You asked, raising your brow at him, where he sat behind Elsie. “Needed me to be prepared for your gift?”

His own brow quirked, a smirk fitting to his lips. “Nooo, mama. That was just something you simply needed to know—need to know. This was planned already. Figured you deserved to have some good, professional photos taken while you’re in this magnificent and majestic state.”

While you weren’t exactly sure what to think, you were definitely anxious to see what could happen with a professional shoot. All of the theming possibilities. . . You wondered what all the photographer could do with lavender. . . The flower and the color. You were getting more and more excited by the minute. 

“Well, thank you, Joshy. . . I’m sure I will love them,” you grinned, winking in his direction. 

And while you wanted to turn and show Jake the certificate, you didn’t. One: it would be weird to your grandparents for you to do so. And, two: you didn’t want to piss Jake off any further. You just eyed the certificate to get a closer look at the company and the service. 

Glimmer & Glow Portraits. . . And, from what it looked like, you were getting The ‘Lush’ maternity shoot. . . It sounded pricey. The weighty material of the certificate felt expensive, too. And the swirly, embossed font screamed fancy. But. . . you’d never heard of the place. 

“Glimmer & Glow?” You questioned, holding the certificate up for Josh to see, as if he hadn’t been the one to buy it in the first place. 

“I’ll send you some example photos I saved of her work. She’s magnificent. Talked to a few friends from film school and they hooked me up with one of the best,” he explained, scooting closer to Elsie and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind her. “She’ll set us up with a newborn shoot, too, I’m sure.”

As you watched your sister and Josh mindlessly nuzzle each other’s noses, you couldn’t help the twinge of sadness at the fact that you did not have what they did. You, on the floor. And Jake, dating someone else entirely, while also being a few decently measured feet away from you. . . 

Your fate was a twisted joke. You couldn’t even look behind you to gauge his reaction to the sweet gift, for fear of embarrassing yourself or some shit. Josh and Elsie didn’t even have to worry about that kind of stuff. . . 

Though, instead of being sad, you tried to focus back on the maternity shoot.

“Seriously. . . Thank you, Josh,” you started, eyeing the certificate closer and looking at the specifications for the shoot. So many exclusive features. . . There was no way this had been affordable. “But please tell me this wasn’t too expensive.”

“Sam and Danny pitched in a little,” he assured, dodging the question. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m sure their portion was hefty,” Jake remarked sarcastically from behind you, on the couch. 

Hearing his voice had your tummy flip-flopping, made you feel jittery, all on its own. Though, what had you feeling the most overjoyed, was the fact that he was tuning in to what was happening with you. . . He wasn’t completely ignoring you. 

You wanted to look at him so badly, but. . . you refrained. All you could watch was Josh and Elsie in front of you, borderline absent from the room. It was depressing to watch, so you decided you’d move on to Elsie’s gift in the hopes of breaking up their display. 

“Elsie Mabel,” your Grandma tried, from her spot in the red armchair opposite your Grandfather’s chair. “Are you going to pay attention to your sister opening her gift?”

“Yes, Grandma,” Elsie groaned with irritation. 

But, you didn’t look up to see her presumed eye roll as you inspected the box carefully. It was also long, like Josh’s. But it was definitely more narrow, and not quite as flat. . . 

With a toss of your hair over your shoulder, you grinned at her. She was waiting for the question, a smile settled on her lips. “What sort of cry-worthy gift did you fit into this small box?” You quizzed her, genuinely curious. 

You were used to records or picture gifts. . . Sometimes a T-shirt with sentimentality backing it. The gifts from her were never dull — always thought out to the most specific extent. But you couldn’t remember the last time she’d gifted a small box. 

“You’ll see once you open it. . .,” she began with a purse of her full lips. “Don’t make me spoil the surprise yet, jerk.”

“Asshole,” you mumbled, beginning to pick at the paper. Slowly. You wanted to make her suffer in anticipation. 

“Oh, please. Go slower. I’d love that,” she mouthed off from beside you. 

“Girls. . .,” your Grandpa warned from his chair, like you were two hormonal, angsty teenagers all over again.

Ironically, you were still (very much) both angsty and hormonal. . . Just for slightly different reasons this time around. . .

As you snorted at the peculiarity of it all, you began to go a little faster to appease her and your own growing curiosity. Your Grandma provided background noise with conversation — as per usual. 

“Jake, honey. . . I haven’t even thought to ask you— how has it been with y/n’s pregnancy? Around the apartment? I’m sure she’s been a bit of a pill. . .”

Well, shit. Here we go again. . .

You froze your unwrapping, your eyes darting up to eye your Grandma, as inconspicuous as you could. She was right across from you. Not a white curl was out of place as she leaned, with graceful ease, against the arm of her chair to get a better look at Jake behind you. Her legs were stretched out, as they always were when she sat in her chair — and crossed at the ankle. Normally, the familiar sight would give you a sense of calm — but not right now. 

You felt your stomach drop, the present in your hands forgotten. You couldn’t see him, but you didn’t want to see him right now. You were worried. . . All you hoped was that this conversation didn’t lead to where it could potentially lead. . . But you had a bad feeling. . . . . 

Because, again, Grandma and Grandpa still didn’t know who the father was. And you got to win the fuckin’ prize for that wonderful decision.

“Oh, not at all actually. . . She’s been incredible,” he said, his tone lighting up significantly for the first time since he’d gotten to their house. God, you felt so damn bad. He continued easily, blissfully unaware of the torment in your mind. “It’s been nothing. I’ve more than enjoyed helping her. . . For whatever she needs, I try to be there. . .”

Whatever you needed was right. 

He trailed off on that one, and you couldn’t control the blush radiating in your cheeks as you looked down at the partially picked-at gift in your hands. You studied the gold of the paper in your clutch, noting every detail of it. From the scuffs on the paper, to the way the reflective material of the wrap danced with the tree lights. 

“Well, I’m darn glad she has you, honey pie,” Grandma replied, voice warm with sincere gratitude. She cleared her throat as she constantly did. And, again, it was not a comfort. It was nails on a chalkboard. . . Because you knew she was gearing up for more. “Truth of the matter is, you shouldn’t even have to deal with any of it. Considering you’re not the father. . .”

Fuck. You knew it was coming. Your body was tense, your heart thumping in your chest. . . notifying you of emotions you couldn’t show. 

You had a feeling, in the back of your mind, that she’d be the one to say something. It had been inevitable that words would be said, with how much your Grandma talked. 

If you were being completely honest, you were shocked that it had taken so long. It was nearing seven p.m., you’d discussed the goddamned gender, and they were just now mentioning the father.

Still, you were feeling, admittedly, really shitty about them not knowing who he was. Especially right now — like you’d felt earlier, but worse this time. It was completely clear now that they didn’t know. 

Josh’s eyes darted behind you, to where Jake sat. You could tell your friend was trying to be inconspicuous. . . And your grandparents likely wouldn’t notice his shift in attention to Jake as anything alarming. After Josh’s glance in Jake’s direction, you heard the latter twin uncomfortably clearing his throat from behind you. 

Goddammit. He was upset — had to be. And, he had every right to be. It would seem to anyone that you hadn’t said anything to them out of shame or embarrassment for who the father was. But that was the furthest thing from the truth. You just didn’t know how to tell them. 

All you were aware of at this moment was that you were a moron for not telling them sooner. That much was obvious. It was just. . . an uncomfortable subject matter to discuss with your grandparents. So, due to that, you were putting it off as long as you could. 

If you’d known he was coming today, though, you would have thought of a way on the spot to tell them before his arrival. But now. . .? How the fuck would you just throw that into conversation now?

The act of worrying over Jake and any possible internal or emotional reaction he could have to this was taking a decent amount of mental energy. So, you tried to simply zone completely in on the gift you were unwrapping. . . You could do that. . .

But your confidence in that shook when your Grandpa began talking.

“We just hope the guy is helping out a little,” the old man sighed, disappointment painted in the words. “Not leaving it all on the damn roommate,” your Grandpa grunted from his seat. You looked over at him, trying to feign any emotion besides the worry stirring in your gut. You found him adjusting his hands over his stomach before reclining back into his chair. “I mean, we can only trust the guy so much. . . We’ve yet to meet ‘im.”

God. Why were they being like this about it? So obviously hateful about the father? Though, with your Grandma’s next words, it all clicked. 

“The girls lacked a true father in their lives. . . He was only around for a bit before he was gone. . . Left their mother to do all of the work. . .,” she trailed off, the mention of your mother made the room still for a bit. 

Your mom was never mentioned — whether she was their daughter or not, you and Elsie were their girls. And, because they knew she’d caused you both immense pain — enough that they’d had to save you two —, they didn’t speak of her. Hardly ever.

So. . . Why all of this now?

“He was a deadbeat, MJ. . . Just say it,” your Grandpa emphasized the rude (but true) word, venom dripping from his tone as he spit it. “He refused to acknowledge his role as a father, but still stayed around long enough to make two girls he should have been better to. He missed out. . . Plain and simple. We can only hope Lavender’s father won’t make the same foolish decision.”

Your gut was rolling. The urge to vomit, suddenly lurking at the front of your racing mind. The mention of your mom and the reminder of your absent father made you feel even shittier. For a variety of reasons, you were feeling the most uncomfortable in this home than you had for a long time. 

Mostly, you were kicking yourself for not giving Jake the paternal credit he deserved. You couldn’t give two shits about your terrible parents and what they’d done (or hadn’t done) to and for you. All that mattered was Jake’s heart in this matter. And you knew how Jake was as a father. . . Completely opposite of your parents — both of them — in every way.

He was the ideal father. Helper. Co-parent. Already. 

But, only God knew how your grandparents would react to the news of Jake. Would they be angry that he was just now coming to a family gathering after so long? Would they be disappointed in you for not including him better? Would they automatically assume that he didn’t want to be a father and make assumptions before you could defend him? 

At this moment, it was impossible to tell them anything. . . And it was impossible to imagine how it would go if you tried. 

And, you were not going to make this Christmas any more uncomfortable than it already was at this very moment.

The only idea you could come up with was opening Elsie’s gift. You could get the room focused on something else. . . Anything else was better than this. 

Your fingers tore the messy corners of the paper with a much mightier speed. There was intention there that hadn’t been present before. Though, just before you could open the box, you heard Jake’s voice. 

You wanted to show him respect by waiting to hear him out. . . Whatever he wanted to say. . . (Also. . . you were admittedly curious how he would respond to all of that. . .) 

“Yeah. . . I mean, I never saw a guy traipsing through the place,” he started, his voice lacking any real depth. 

The pressure of your teeth against your lip was hardly noticeable as you kept your hand stilled on the lid of the box. At the moment, you didn’t even care if it looked suspicious that you were so focused on the sound of his voice.

He was trying to distance himself from the situation, trying to play aloof. You respected it, but it caught you off guard. What could he say next?

 “Well, there was one — is one — that she studies with every week. . . But there is no way it’s him,” he laughed sardonically under his breath. You imagined he was shaking his head. “Y/n wouldn’t ever lower herself to that standard of man. . .” 

“She has been rather picky through the years,” Elsie chimed in, from your right. You looked over to her, as she sent a grin your way that said ‘I’m right here. Don’t worry.’ “The baby’s daddy has to be an upstanding guy.”

Jake continued as though she hadn’t even spoken. His voice was clipped — you realized this. To anyone unassuming, his tone wasn’t strange. But to you? You knew he was pissed. 

“For all we know, the man was a mistake, Elsie. . . Who knows? A one night thing, perhaps?” 

Oh. . . So he was accusing you of one night stands in front of your grandparents?

“Jacob, she doesn’t venture down those paths. . .,” Josh tried, playing it off as a slight joke. “You know that.”

You were grateful for his quip, nodding towards him, in agreement with his statement. His brow was raised, though, when he caught your eye. . . He was questioning you. . . probably curious, as well, as to why you hadn’t clued your grandparents in on his brother’s role. 

Yes, again. . . you felt like shit about it.

Though, it landed on deaf ears where Jake was concerned. He clicked his tongue, his tone raising a bit to play off of a lighter feel. But you knew better. 

“I don’t know. . .,” he responded, presumably, to Josh. “She doesn’t really talk to me about anything. I found out about the baby by mistake, actually. . . She hasn’t been real big on telling people. Even those she lives with. . .,” he literally tacked on a huff of a chuckle to the end of his words. 

Nice. Hashing that instance out, too, was he? 

“It was shocking to find out, since I’d never seen anyone around. So, I don’t know. . .,” he finished with the curious words, just as he’d started. 

He was at a loss of knowing how to continue, it seemed. And so were you. His words were cutting straight to your heart. All of them. 

And, while he was obviously hurt (you knew him), he was playing it off strangely well. It just meant to you that he was really trying to put on a front for your grandparents. Knowing Jake, he didn’t want to cause any discomfort for them either. 

“Maybe she’s still feeling off about the idea of telling him,” Jake suddenly continued, apparently still having more to say. “Maybe she never will. . . And, yeah, maybe some would say she should give him the chance. . . But. . . that’s up to her.”

Fuck. Was that a backhanded thing? An emphasis on you not giving him a chance to your grandparents? Or were you just overthinking? God only knew. . .

“Oh, absolutely, Jacob,” your Grandma agreed, automatically. She was buying all of it. Jake was covering better than you could have begun to try. He was shielding your ass, even while ripping your heart to pieces with the hurt you’d inflicted on him. “I mean, I have to trust her. After all, I did raise the girl. . . And I believe she’ll do whatever she believes is best for her babygirl.”

“I agree. She’s already a fantastic mother,” Jake replied, a sad smile laced into his raspy timbre (you knew those little indicators in his tone). On your own face, you felt a watery smile form. If your grandparents noticed it, you didn’t care. His words were sweet, regardless. And, his next words caused the smile to become shakier. “I just hope if she does tell him, the guy isn’t a deadbeat. . . Y/n deserves better than that. The baby deserves better than that.”

Your baby, Jake. . . And that baby does have the best of the best. . .

The sniffle that escaped your nose was unstoppable, as was the single tear that trickled down your cheek onto your hand. You had to say something to that. 

“Thanks, Jake,” you replied, turning your head to the side to acknowledge him. Though, you were not daring looking at him. You couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t completely break down, thus exposing something on accident.

“It’s true, y/n,” he said, tone softer than you deserved for putting him in this situation. You were lying to your grandparents, not giving Jake a chance to be involved, yet again. . . And, still, he was being so kind. “You are an incredible mother to her.”

Goddammit. Your shaky hand that reached up to stop more tears was your savior.

“Well, I’ll be. . . You seem to have just as much to say about this as you do music!” Grandpa laughed, slapping his thighs. The sound made you jump, looking over at the man, from where you’d apparently zoned out on the air between you and Jake. Your Grandpa’s copper skin, freckled with dark specks; his cheeks were pressed with genuine dimples. He was obviously elated with Jake’s responses. “If only you were the father, son. . . We wouldn’t even be stressin’ this!”

“Harold!” Your Grandma scolded him, laughing at him all the same. “You quit that. Don’t want to make the poor kids uncomfortable.”

Oh, yes, Grandma. . . We wouldn’t want that, now would we? The thoughts were instantaneous as you closed your eyes with a shake of your head. 

When you opened your eyes, your attention was visually trained on her. But, your thoughts weren’t concerned with her. No, all you felt was the stare that was heating the skin on the back of your body. Your entire backside was hot with the fact that Jake was right behind you. You felt him. Your mind was swimming with him. Everything he’d said. . . 

And, considering he had said all of that, you hated how very silent he was suddenly being. . . 

. . .Or did you? 

What was better for you at the moment? What would not make your supposed POTS — whatever heart issue — go into overdrive? You knew both reactions would have you overthinking to incredible heights. 

Honestly, you were just glad he hadn’t found a reason to ask Josh if they could leave. . . Or maybe he was just waiting until the presents were all unwrapped to ask his brother if they could dip out. 

Your heartbeat was thumping in your ears at the prospect of him leaving.

Because, one thing you did know: you did not want Jake to be away from you. You’d missed him and needed to keep him close. So, you needed him to stay long enough that you could explain yourself. Had to make sure he understood why your grandparents were still in the dark. . . 

Though, did you even understand why anymore?

a/n: when do you think her grandparents will find out? and, um... how do you think the rest of Christmas will go?... hm... the possibilities are endless, one might say ;)

AS ALWAYS -- please send in asks, respond to chapters, etc. I PROMISE I SEE THEM AND IT IS THE BEST REWARD FOR THE DAYS, WEEKS, AND MONTHS SPENT WRITING THIS STORY! <333 this story takes up SO MUCH time in my already busy family-filled, work-filled, etc. life, but YOU all make it WORTH IT. So I LOVE to hear from you!!!!! <3 xoxoxo

trying my best to keep up w the Covet Visualizer... you may view it if you'd like. however, you don't NEED TO. i simply am a very visual person, sooo i made it for my fellow visual learners/lovers. the photos i pulled inspo from for y/n's photos in this chapter will be in the visualizer :D !!! (IF YOU DO CHOOSE TO USE IT, PLEASE VIEW IT IN PRINT LAYOUT!! — esp if you’re using the docs app/are on your phone!!)

Taglist (continued in reblog):

@joshym, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlover, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me, @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles, @jennyraye20

I always try to tag everyone, but you all know how it goes! ughhh (taglist will be cont. in reblog !!) Please make sure you’re filling out my Google Form if you would like to be tagged and aren’t already on the taglist! <3

[sneezingfetishftw-fics]

Spring cleaning aka I actually organized my stuff

Links to my works

Tags

I only got as far back as February of last year, for stuff I posted/reblogged earlier than that I'll have to come back and tag it later

General tags

#my snezfic = fics I wrote

#oc snez = original characters, not a fandom

#furry snez = includes furry content

#snezart = includes art

#podfic snez = includes audio

#snez wip = wip of a fic

Fandom tags

(*) denotes a fandom I'm not familiar with but still share content for

#snezbin hotel = ha/z/bin ho/tel

#hellasnez = he/ll/uv/a b/oss

#snez attorney = a/ce at/tor/ney

#ineffable snez = go/od om/ens

#strange snez = str/anger thi/ngs*

#disco sneezium = dis/co el/ys/ium

#snezgon age = dr/ag/on a/ge

#sneezers gate = bal/du/rs g/ate*

#tmsnez = the ma/gn/us ar/ch/ives

#ave/ngers snez = ave/ngers* (someone please help me with more creative title, also the asterisk is cause while I've seen some stuff years ago I don't keep up to date at all)

#our flag means snez = our fl/ag me/ans de/ath*

#i dont go here snez = I don't think this is oc but I don't recognize this fandom, or I haven't seen enough fics in this fandom to bother with a tag

[black-cats-are-for-good-luc-blog]

I need to stop… .but I can’t. … ..