#if you're going to be sad at least admire your beauty

[gothamite-rambler]

Jessica Cruz: Why do you look so... Dead inside?

Batman (glancing at his kids): Me, Nightwing, Red Robin, Robin, or Red Hood? Which one of us are you talking about?

Jessica (taken back): The one- That is a lot to unpack there. The handsome one?

Nightwing (pointing at himself then his family members): Me, Batman, Red Robin, or Red Hood?

Robin (insulted): What?!

Red Hood (patting Damian's head): You're cute, not handsome.

Robin (pouting): I am not cute!

Jessica (now just amused): The- Wow, at least you guys love your appearances. Okay you didn't say your name that time. Nightwing, yeah you. Why do you look so dead inside, today?

Nightwing (blunt): It's my mom's birthday. So I'm just a little sad because she's not here to celebrate her life with me.

Jessica sniffled, covering her mouth.

Jessica: Oh my goodness, you poor thing. I totally forgot. Do you need a hug?

Nightwing: Hm? Yes! Yes I do!

Jessica went over and hugged Nightwing, shoving Batman out of the way.

Batman (complaining): I don't get hugs when it's my mom's birthday.

Nightwing (enjoying the hug): You'd punch them before they attempted to.

[tmblrcolouredpaper]

When TXT is making you feel comfortable: habits, routines and rituals that occur when they prioritize your comfort

5 short scenarios per member listed

wc (in total): 1943

no warnings

When Yeonjun is making you comfortable...

... he has his apartment stocked with products that make you feel at home. He has your favorite snacks. He bought your favorite clothes as substitutes that he keeps in his closet for when you stay over. He has some copies of your favorite books and gets some magazines you enjoy. If you're a person who menstruates, he of course has all possible period products ready. If your hobby is painting, he has all utensils at his place. If you are currently into lifting weights and working out, he creates a little sport corner for you. 

'Top drawer on the right', he yells after you when you leave is room to go to the kitchen, because you feel like having a snack.

'Look at the bag in my closet', he instructs when you spilled on your favorite shirt, while he gets the detergent ready to wash your shirt right away.

... he is with you when you decide to face your fears. If he can and it makes sense, he is with you in person, but otherwise, he offers you to be on a call with him or text him. One or the other way,  he will be with you.

'Three, two, one and you go inside, okay? I'll stay on the call and you can return right to my voice if you want to, yeah? Now, my brave baby, three, two, and one'.

... he is his crazy self around you and is the happiest when you slowly allow yourself to let your guard down and become more unhinged yourself. 

'That doesn't sound like a chicken. My donkey impression totally beats yours. Try again'. 

... he directly protects you from others. Whether it's strangers or friends, encountering you with inappropriate intentions or ignorant jokes, he shields you. 

'Keep walking', he spits at a man who is eyeing you up and down when you are outside. Yeonjun pushes himself between you and the crowd immediately and takes your hand to pull you behind him, not letting go of you until he feels like it's rather safe again. 

... he lets you sleep. Regardless if you fall asleep on his bed, taking up all the space or of you fall asleep directly on him, he lets you. The only time he moves you is when your position looks rather uncomfortable and possibly damaging if you remain lying  like that for too long. 

'Oh? Am I that comfy?', he whispers as he looks down on your sleeping figure on his chest, smiling to himself.

When Soobin is making you comfortable...

... he subtly bends his knees or leans against an accessible surface when he's talking to you, to not tower over you as much.

'Oh, why I'm leaning against the wall like this? I'm just a bit tired, that's all'.

... he carries all your bags at a shopping trip and cheers you on in every outfit you are trying out.

'This looks beautiful on you. Wait? Feels a bit too tight? Give me a second. I'll bring it in a different size', he says and rushes into the isles with bags already dangling from his shoulders. He always has capacity to carry just one more thing if it's for you.

... he never, NEVER, distances himself first when you hug. He always waits for you to be ready to let go, because he doesn't even want to give you one nuanced opportunity to doubt him wanting to be with you.

'I'm not letting go before you're ready', he whispers when you were already in his embrace for ten minutes, standing in the middle of the room. It doesn't matter if you are happy, sad, scared, worried. He is constantly ready to be your safe space. 

... he gives you the biggest side-eye. As much as he admires you, he doesn't put you on a pedestal. When your jokes aren't funny or you say something particularly dumb, he will silently let you know and expects to be treated the same. 

'What do you mean unicorns weren't real at least for one period of time on this earth? I literally saw a documentary about it!', he argues and has to contain himself to not burst into a laughter, seeing you shaking your head in disbelief with a big frown on your face. Those situations are so funny and carefree to him. 

... he has your back regarding everything. Regardless of how unrealistic or silly something may seem, he is always there, encouraging you to at least give it a shot. As uncertain a situation, a project, a try may be, he remains your certain stability. 

'So what if it's stupid? You're curious of it. It excites you, so go and see if it could be working for you', he says and adds that regardless of what happens, in the end of the day you can just return to him as always. 

When Beomgyu is making you comfortable...

... he waves at you when he sees you walking towards him, but is surprised to see you turning around to look at the other people who are walking down the street in an attempt to figure out if he might be meeting someone else.

'I was waving at you, you know', he says after greeting you when you are finally standing in front of him.

... he is puzzled to find you wearing long pajama pants as it is a warm summer night during which he is staying over at your apartment. He toys with the fabric when you sit down next to him and experimentally pulls the fabric up your leg a bit. 

'Isn't it way too warm in those?', he questions and listens to you negating in an obvious lie. 

'Just wear shorts. I won't do or think anything inappropriately only because I see your skin', he assures and when you leave to your bedroom to get changed, he adds, 'And don't you dare forcing yourself into that bra any longer'. 

... he observes you lingering a bit closer around him than usually when you feel particularly down. 

'Want to hug?', he simply asks and opens his arms when you shyly nod, inviting you into his embrace at your own pace. 

... he slides on the bench to sit right next to you when you are particularly anxious in a cafe, and he opens his hand as he watches you trying to hide your own trembling one. 

'I'll hold you', he offers and waits for you to place your palm on his. Then he gently encloses his fingers around your hand and makes you shift your focus by asking you to count every brown item you could see in the room. 

... he lets you wear his clothes, either when you're freezing and need extra layers or when it's warm outside but you don't want to wear too revealing clothes. 

'I have a whole closet, just try my clothes'. 

When Taehyun is making you comfortable...

... he doesn't interrupt you. When you are speaking, regardless of how loud and enthusiastic or how quiet and hesitant you are when talking, he listens patiently. 

'No, keep talking. I wanna hear', he encourages when you insecurely stop yourself from sharing. 

... he challenges you. If you want to do something, but doubt yourself, he makes it into playful game to lift the pressure off your shoulders, stepping away from the burden of actively existing. 

'One hour? Okay, one hour and then we'll see who manages to write more applications. Winner gets, hmm, one wish. Anything? Yeah? Let's go', he cheers and starts typing right away.

... he coexists with you in silence. Grocery shopping, cleaning, reading, whatever it is, he doesn't force conversations. Eye contact, gentle smiles, pointing at items, that's already such richness of mundanity. 

'They have your ice cream on sale', he informs and watches you hurrying down the isle to grab some packages, happily smiling at him. 

... he directly teaches and explains things. He doesn't leave room for any condescension. If you don't know something or make a mistake and he knows then he just explains. If you want to learn something he already knows how to do, he offers to teach you if you want. 

'I know this choreo. Want me to play dance teacher?', he asks in a laugh, happy at the thought of spending time with you while you explore your interest. 

... he simply assures and compliments you. 

'You're doing great today', he beams when you tick off another point on your to-do-list and later on doodles a little smiley face on the bottom of your paper. 

When Kai makes you comfortable...

... he takes interest in your interests to genuinely connect with you when you share pieces of your realms of curiosity. 

'Omg, the new episode of your favorite show is online', he informs you in excitement and watches you grabbing your phone to check it yourself. To the question if it would be fine if you watch it now, he just nods and asks if he can join you. 

... he reserves spots for you. In restaurants and cafes he always makes sure you have a place to arrive to when he is there earlier or you are definitely running late. At home he has one plushie that is assigned to you, so it can occupy a chair or one side of the bed, keeping others away from your destined space. 

'Over here', he says loudly when he sees you entering the cafe. He towers over the present people and waves you over to his table, where an empty chair and a cookie or fruit bowl or whatever snack you like, is waiting for you. 

... he laughs with you. He genuinely enjoys your humor and he will not leave you hanging whenever you are telling a joke and make a sassy remark. When you are being clumsy, he laughs it off with you. There is no second of insecure embarrassment when he is around. 

'Yo! I tripped over that exact edge yesterday, too!', he squeals as he holds you by your arm to prevent you from falling and bursts into laughter simultaneously with you when your eyes meet. 

... he lets you be shy. You talk too quietly for people to understand what you're saying? He translates calmly and with a sense of protection over you, his expression telling the listener not to dare making an unnecessary comment regarding your behavior. He lets you hide behind him when you are too shy to face someone or something. 

'Come here', he whispers when he notices your shyness and opens his jacket for you to step closer to him where he can hide you between the fabric and his body, telling people who look confused, that he's freezing a bit.

... he always responds to you. Any question you could possibly ask will get a useful answer and even if it's just him informing over his state of uncertainty regarding a topic or a repeated answer to a repeated question. He doesn't waste time engaging in the reality in the form that  it matters to you.

'Yes, of course I'd love you if you were a worm'; 'My first thought is that I don't mind either, but I feel like I tend to prefer pizza over burger today'; I said it minimum hundred times already, but here is another reminder: You look great and I am going to cuddle you to sleep in every state of your body'. 

[lcriedlastnight]

Oblivious reader and Lando saying “how did you not notice, i always flirted with you.”

i'll forever love flirty lando.

tw: fem!reader, swears, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.1k

"look at you! you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen!" lando exclaimed as you spun around, showing him all the angles of the dress you were currently trying on. your smile is unmatched as you face the enthusiastic boy.

"you think?" you ask, still unsure on the dress.

"this one's for sure the best one you've shown me yet, beautiful." lando admits, taking a step towards you. you hum in response.

"i really need this dress to make me look good." you tell him, turning around to inspect your reflection in the dressing rooms of one of the most expensive and fancy stores you had ever stepped foot in. lando had insisted in taking you to this store, even after you had told him you would never be able to afford the cheapest thing in there.

lando rolls his eyes behind you and you catch it in his reflection.

"y'don't need a dress to make you look good." the curly haired boy acts like it was obvious. you actually have to bite back a smile at his sweet words, trying to concentrate on whether or not this was the dress for tonight.

"can i ask what you actually need a dress for?" lando asks, hands coming to rest at your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he admires your reflection in the mirror. if it was anyone else you would have been completely shocked at the action, but it was lando. he was always touching you in some way. "he's just a touchy person" was what you told your frienda the first time they actually witnessed it. it was obvious to everyone but you. lando was down bad.

"i didn't tell you?" you ask, surprised that you had actually forgotten to tell him what the dress was for in the excitement of dress shopping. lando just gives you a goofy smile that told you he did not mind that you had forgotten to tell him.

you smile back through the mirror. "i have a date tomorrow!" you say happily. you have never seen someones expression sour so quickly. it makes you spin around to properly face lando, a worried expression on your face.

"what? what's wrong?" you ask in a panic. lando stares at you in shock.

"you're going on a date? with a guy?" lando asks, although it is not really phrased like a question and instead like a statement.

you nod, confused at his words. "uh, yeah? that's usually what people mean when they say that they are going on a date." you clarify, trying to lighten the mood again by your joking tone.

lando is actually speechless for once, as he just stares at you blankly. the boy was acting like you had just told him someone had just shot his cat, it was confusing you to say the least.

"take the dress off." lando eventually says, with a stoney expression and blunt words. your brows jump up in shock.

"no? i'm not doing that."

"yes you are. i'm not buying you a dress, just for you to go on a date some another fucking guy." lando tells you, already ushering you back into the stalls to take the dress off. you are gobsmacked at the way he was acting. lando shuts the door once you are inside the stall and directs you to lock it. you suppose he has a point and there was no way you were affording this dress without lando, even though he had assured you that it would be his treat, he had the right to change his mind. it did make you sad that you could not buy the dress because you really did like it and you had thought that your date would think so too.

while you stare at your reflection in the dress for the last time in the mirror inside the stall (this place had so many mirrors, it was ridiculous) you hear lando's footsteps retreating and you surmise that he had decided to leave you. it was a mean thing to do but you knew lando was upset and you would never even think about holding it against him.

you take the dress off and slip it back on the hanger. you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself as you redress yourself in your own clothes that you do not hear the returning footsteps that enter the dressing room.

lando knocks on the stall door and at first you are confused because you had thought he had left but then you think yourself a fool because why had you thought lando would leave you alone in the dressing rooms of some fancy store just because he was upset about you going on a date for some reason. you open the stall door to be faced with a happier looking lando and an arm full of dresses.

"see which one of these you like best, i'm taking you out after this." lando informs you, handing the dresses over to you. there must have been about ten in his hands.

"you're what?" you look at his, completely puzzeled.

"i'm taking you out. i like you, much more than that stupid date you have tomorrow. i know that for sure." lando grins at you as he shuts the stall again. you don't move behind the door as you try to understand the information lando had just fed you.

"you like me? what do you mean you like me?" you ask, forced to converse with him through the barrier, if you were to guess, you would say lando was sat on the weird, round sofa in the centre of the room, facing your stall with that stupid smile that gives you those butterflies you had forced yourself to ignore anytime they reared their ugly head.

"how did you not notice? i always flirted with you?" lando questions, again, acting like his words were common knnowledge.

"i thought you were just being nice." you say, now starting to try on the first dress on top of the pile, embarrassment coating your words. lando laughs and it sends little beams of light around the room. the once dim lighted dressing room as bright as if it was being lit with fluorecent lights.

"just being nice? god you're hopeless sometimes, love." you know it is a little insulting but you cannot really find it in yourself to be upset because he had just called you love and it was melting your brain. you were sure that if you tipped your head to side, your poor brain would pour out your ears.

"d'you like italian? there is this great place just down the street. the pasta is amazing!" oh, you could get used to this.

[milfloveer]

Suprise

Pairing: Patti LuPone x fem!reader

Plot: Patti finished one of her shows and you're waiting in her dressing room, only she doesn't know you're there

Warnings: Patti being sad is a major warning and trigger don't you agree?

A/n: I'm simply and completely obsessed with Patti LuPone and some of her characters 😩 it's not even healthy fam

A/n II: also this isn't my best work, but will do ig

Today was Patti's premiere of A Life in Notes and I wasn't able to go as I was shooting for my new upcoming movie... At least it was what Patti thought.

I was always present on her first and last shows without failing, always there to be the loudest in the crowd when the show was over. But this time was different, I couldn't be there because this movie was draining me out, always shooting and reshooting.

Of course she was sad when I told her and I was too, seeing her like that made my heart, the one who beats for her, break. But what she didn't know was that today the shooting went really well and by the time I was finished I still had an hour to be at the theatre where Patti was doing her show.

I was currently changing clothes and putting some makeup on, so I could hurry up and go to Patti's show when a knock sounded on my trailer door "Come in!" I say and as the door opens Aubrey, who was part of the cast of the movie I was working in, walks in with a smile, already changed from the costume "You ready, love?" she asks and I frown "For what?" I ask confused, I don't remember making plans after shooting, she simply chuckles "Your wife's show duh." she says and I relax "Totally! Are you coming too?!" I ask excitedly "Of course I'm coming, wouldn't miss a Patti show for nothing." I just smile from ear to ear, grab my purse and walk out with her "Don't tell Patti we're going, she doesn't know and I want to make it a surprise!" I say excited and Aubrey just laughs at me "You look like a child ready for some candy, y/n." I stop and look at her "I am a child and my candy is waiting for me." I say smirking and winking at her, which she responds with a mocking disgusted face making me laugh.

As we arrived we were instantly met with Kathryn and Joe "Oh my god! Y/n! Aubrey! You made it!" Kathryn said as soon as her eyes landed on us, I was changing messages with her all day and of course she knew what was going on, she gave us a big hug and so did Joe "Yes! Isn't it awesome?!" I asked excitedly as they nodded with big smiles "Oh, and please don't tell anything to Patti, I want to surprise her, she doesn't know we're here." Kathryn already knew but nonetheless she lifts her hands in surrender as saying she won't tell anything and Joe seals his lips with an invisible key.

As we're talking I see from the corner of my eye the director of the show walking by, excusing myself I walk away so I could get to him. As I'm approaching him his eyes fall on my figure and he instantly recognises me "Mrs. LuPone!" he says happily greeting me with a warm hug "Oh, please, call me y/n. We're friends after all." I tell him and then proceed to explain what my plan is and to say he's delighted and excited too is an understatement "Patti really was a little low today and now I know why, but this will certainly make her night Mrs. LuPone- I mean, y/n!" he says laughing softly "Great! Then it's a deal." I say clapping my hands and saying goodbye so I could join the group again and go find our seats.

The show goes smoothly, we laugh, we cry, we sing and we feel everything. My eyes were always glued to my love, the glint in my eyes just like a child seeing his favourite toy, the love and admiration evident in me, proud emanating from my body as I followed her figure on the stage. And her voice. Oh, her beautiful voice. I'll never get tired of it, at home she's always singing something and sometimes I join her, but mostly is her singing while I watch with pure joy and love.

The last song is over and the crowd erupts into applauses and cheers and, as always, I scream from the top of my lungs and whistle, trying to be the loudest of them all, completely forgetting what I've planned and that she shouldn't know I was there.

I'm brought back to reality when a member of the crew approaches me and tells me to follow them, as well as the rest of the group. We're arriving at Patti's dressing room when suddenly she appears and I quickly jump behind a random black tall box that's in the way. Aubrey looks at me confused and so does Kathryn and Joe, then I point into Patti's direction and they all hurry to her cheering and congratulating her about her performance as I slip into her dressing room.

"You guys! What are y'all doing here!" Patti says, her big smile reaching her ears as she receives big hugs from everyone "You were incredible Patti!" Kathryn says "Yeah! Just wow! No words- like wow." Joe says and then she turns to Aubrey with wide eyes "Aubrey! What- How are you even here?!" and with that Aubrey just replies with one of her sarcastic and funny remarks "I ran away from the studio." she says shrugging her shoulders while everyone laughs "What about y/n, did she came with you?" Patti asks expectantly "I thought I heard her in the crowd screaming and whistling, but couldn't find her." she says still hoping it was true and I was there, but Aubrey being the good actress she is, puts on an act "No... Sorry, Patti she had more scenes than I to shoot. She couldn't make it." she says with a sadned and apologetic tone. Patti's face drops "Oh, alright. It's... Alright." she says and gives them a tight smile "I'm goin to change and then we could all go out for dinner, hm? My treat?" she asks and all of them agree.

I was seated on the little couch near the door waiting for my love. The door opens and I see her coming in and leaning into it as it closes, she lets out a shaky breath and it breaks my heart... She really wanted me here tonight "What's wrong, my love?" I ask softly while getting up from the couch.

She gasps and jumps, her eyes open quickly as she was not expecting someone to be there "Oh my gosh! Wha-" her eyes lock with mine as I approach her figure "Y/n?" she asks, her hands reaching out to my face, cupping and caressing it "Yes, my love." I say smiling lovingly "You really didn't think I would miss your show, right?" I ask with a breathy laugh, Patti lets out a shaky breath and brings our lips together to a soft and tender kiss, comforting even. "I love you." she breathes out against my lips bringing a big smile on my face "I love you too, Patti." I say kissing her again.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

TF141 w/ a chubby girl♡

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A/N: I'm definitely all for "fictional characters don't have a type bc YOU are their type." But I dreamt of Johnny, and he was obsessed with tummies, so I had to write something <3

~Fi 🐝

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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick ♡

Kyle is such a cutie, I can't. First of all, he's always smiling like an idiot when it comes to you. Whether he's talking about you, admiring you or if your name is even just mentioned.

He's the biggest gentleman the world has ever seen!! Especially when you first start dating. He's holding all the doors for you, bringing you flowers and complimenting you every chance he gets. No, seriously, he will drown you in praises and compliments until you either tell him to stop before you overheat, or when you're such a flustered mess that he can't help but grin proudly at the affect he has on you.

He's the best boyfriend ever and you can quote me on that!!

Kyle is so, so gentle with you. Whether that's touches or how he talks to you. He's head over heels for you. I feel like he'd move in with you very fast. He just needs to be near you. Not necessarily in a touchy way like John, but only sitting next to you while either of you do your own thing makes him happy.

On a particularly good day, he lets out his teasing side. Kyle whistles at you or lovingly cat-calls you from across the living room. He's always making comments about your body when he's like this, telling you how hot you are. He will get touchy if you need more convincing.

Tightly wrapping his arms around your waist and jokingly poking your tummy while placing soft kisses on your cheek and down your neck.

On a lazy day when the two of you are just lounging in bed, he rests his chin on your thighs and shimmies your shirt up to your waist so he can trace any stretch marks you have on your stomach. He's just gently brushing the tip of his finger over them, mesmerized by how they seem to shimmer.

He definitely calls you his little Tiger as a cute nickname. Not only do you have the stripes, but you're fierce and strong, and he loves that about you. I'm not even kidding when I tell you he would trace your stretch marks for literal hours.

That's until you feel him stop, look down, only to see him having fallen asleep with his hands on your lower back.

If you ever feel sad or uncomfortable in your own skin, he'll take your hands and guide you in front of a mirror with him right behind you. Kyle would ask you to tell him all the things that bother you or that you don't think are pretty, and he'd tell you how he sees all those things.

They make you so uniquely you, so of course he loves them. Each one of your insecurities will get a little soft kiss from him, and sometimes, he shares some of his insecurities with you to show you that you're not alone.

Although, I don't think he has many physical insecurities (if any tbh) so you can't kiss them, but his lips and face will have to do. He's such a comforting personality. He'd be one of the best people to go to about things like this. He's not as radical in his methods as John, but they work just as well.

Kyle takes you out on cute dates all the time. Like at least once a week. It's his way of showing you off to other people. It's definitely more discreet than John, (he's learned a lot from his Captain/Friend) but he's always looking if other people whip their heads around and gasp in awe at how cute of a couple you are.

He takes pride in his relationship with you. He was positively beaming when an older couple came up to you and commented on how well of a match you were and that they were like that too when they were younger.

And when the old lady tells you what a beautiful young lady you are, you take the compliment with confidence, earning a squeeze from Kyle's hand in yours. He's so happy and proud of how far you've come.

And the boyfriend of the year award goes to... Kyle "Gaz" Garrick <3

Captain John Price ♡

John has a chubby wife in every universe and you can not and will not change my mind (chubby chaser Price *cough* *cough*). He's the perfect candidate for a bigger girl, are you kidding me???

He loves wholly and truthfully, and he will show you just how much he adores you if you ever doubt him.

He's just such a man, you know? He loves REAL women. Rolls, stretch marks, cellulite, body hair, scars. He's there for all of it. John loves nothing more than to come home to you. You're his home. You feel him sigh, and his shoulders slack every time he returns and hoists you into his arms. If he could merge with you and always be enveloped by your warmth and softness, he would.

Besides, he's got some huge hands, so he needs something to grab on to!

John is so incredibly touchy when he comes home from deployment. It might not seem like it with his stoic Captain facade, but he needs to have his hands on you whenever he can. He's always holding your hand, a hand on your cheek, squeezing your thigh, an arm slung over your shoulders, tracing patterns on your upper arm.

We all know he's built like an absolute wall of a man, and he will just snatch you away from whatever you were doing and plop you down in his lap just to hold you close. The comfort of your weight on his chest always makes him feel safe.

He loves to do this when he has reports to finish. John gets to hear you talk again, and he listens while he writes the reports and finishes off file after file.

In my mind, he loves to read, especially something like murder mysteries (add ten points if they have something historical in them) and, yeah, the couch is fine but he never reads more comfortably than when he has his head resting on your thighs, the best pillow in the house in his opinion, and holding your hand.

John is such a kiss fanatic. This goes along with his need to hold and touch you all the time (he's reassuring himself that you're safe and that you're the one thing he didn't fail to protect) he has his lips on your skin as much as he can. It doesn't even need to be a full kiss. His lips grazing over your neck or the back of your hand has him content as ever.

He would definitely be the best at reassuring you if you ever feel insecure about your body. He never lies and keeps this word. You have no choice but to believe him that you're the image of a carefully chiseled marble statue.

I feel like maybe he'd get a bit cheesy with his analogies, but he can't have you thinking less of yourself. It makes him sad, truthfully. He loves you with all that he is, and he will make you believe it and prove it to you.

John has definitely fallen on his knees before you and talked a solid half hour about how beautiful you are, that he loves every pound on you and that he would ask you to marry him over and over and over again.

The way he would show you off so much. He'd dress you in sparkly dresses and jewelery and just watch with a smirk as jaws fall to the floor and eyes widen when the pair of you attends an event.

He definitely polishes up his wedding ring 2 times a day just in case someone got the idea to hit on him, he can flash the ring and then follow it with a wide smile and a picture of you.

He loves how your softness and plumpness is such a nice contrast to his rugged and hardened edges.

You take care of him, and he takes care of you. And the curve of your tummy makes him smile when he remembers that you're home and shielded from everything he's seen.

You're John Price's sanctuary, his cushiony paradise, and he'll love you forever <3

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish ♡

Soap loves when you're wearing a (his) shirt, and it stretches over the outline of your tummy. The dip of your belly button and the curve of your soft pudge (I literally dreamt this. Not even kidding, he would NOT shut up about it. Best dream of my life) He gets weak in the knees.

You better be quick because when he sees that, this man will squish his face into your tummy so fast.

Johnny bites, too. Softly, of course, but he will gently gnaw and nibble on the fat of your stomach to his hearts content. If he was a cat, he'd be purring so loud that the walls shake.

He can't help it. You're so soft and squishy and lovable!! Soap loves to knead and grab at your body, just watching some of your chub spill through his fingers. He definitely gets cuteness aggression when it comes to you, pinching your cheeks (both pairs, hehe) and hugging you so tightly while gritting compliments through his teeth.

Basically, he loves you so much that he could explode.

Johnny wants you to drape over him like a blanket. Like a warm, soft, comforting blanket that gives him kisses. He actually gets a small crisis sometimes because he can't decide whether he wants you to sleep on top of him, or if he wants to bury his face in your tummy and knock out in 2 minutes.

If he chooses the latter, his snores vibrate softly into your skin. It's an odd feeling at first, but now it gives you comfort, knowing that he's alive and breathing. Because he does not care for that when he's face down in tummy-heaven and you have to pry him away to take a breath.

Johnny loves to have his hands on your hips. You're his stressball at this point. He'll always fiddle with a part of you. But your hips will forever be his favorite. He can grab handfuls of them and feel so much of you.

He will slide his hands past the sides of your panties and just hold your hips, your underwear keeping them in place so nicely. Johnny will gently pinch the fat of your hips sometimes, just to see your reaction. It has him grinning like the cheshire cat, the cheeky bastard.

He thinks you're so pretty. Like so, so, so, so, so pretty. Johnny stares at you with heart eyes, a lovesick smile, and occasionally a dreamy sigh slips out. He can't help himself. You're so beautiful and perfect and his. You've definitely caught him pumping his fist in the air when he thinks you're not looking because he's so happy that he's yours.

Will brag about you so hard. To anyone and everyone. No one is safe. Not even the old lady in the shop he helped get something from a shelf. He's pulling up pictures on his phone or the one he particularly likes, of which he has a solid copy in his wallet.

He's so in love with you and your softness, it's insane.

One thing about Soap? He loves a good challenge. You come at him with that "I'm too heavy!" Bullshit or you feel bad about being a bigger girl and you're already lifted off the ground while angry scottish rambling hits your ears. The absolute disbelief on his face when you even imply that you're not attractive or not his caliber. You're perfect. He won't argue with you.

You wanna be manhandled? He'll manhandle you, sweetheart. Always carefully and lovingly, he would never, ever want to hurt you (even if you asked him to, bless his soul, he can't bring himself to do it). You're too precious to him! You wanna be carried like a princess? Say less, Bonnie, he's carrying you like a QUEEN.

Johnny is so strong. Like so fucking strong (I literally saw a video of Neil rep deadlifting 405, kill me now) and he will use it for and against you!!

Maybe you're being a little stupid (whatever that may entail for you personally lmao) and he's grabbing you and carrying you across the room.

Again, he loves the challenge. He'll push himself that little bit further when he trains in the gym and not only does he look good, but the surprise on your face when he comes back and suddenly he's strong enough to throw you over his shoulder?? So worth it.

The weight of you is the weight of your love, and Johnny MacTavish wants to be crushed by it <3

Simon "Ghost" Riley ♡

Upon meeting you, Simon does not care what your body looks like. Like at all. It's your personality that absolutely captivates him, and he feels himself drawn to you constantly.

Simon acknowledges that you're attractive, but he could really care less if you're big or small. He values different things. Simon is a deeply troubled man, so the way you love and trust is way more important to him than physical appearance.

That's not to say he doesn't notice the benefits he gets from having a chubby girlfriend over time. He's in love with you, period. Once that happens, there's no going back. The longer you're together, the more obsessed he gets with you and your soft body and curves.

You fit like puzzle pieces, like you were made to heal all his aches and cure all his ailments. He's not too keen on physical touch at first, but he becomes a fucking maniac for you. It's even more than with John, Simon always has you with him.

No matter where he needs to go, you're coming with him. And if it's some military thing and they say you can't come? He's not going. You're not going, he's not going. Easy.

You two always manage to mesmerize people. How ever did you, a soft little thing, get this behemoth of a man so soft?

Although only very few get to see Simon be an absolute sap. He would do absolutely anything for you. You're his deity, and he's a devoted follower, willing to give his soul to you. I feel like he's very lost sometimes, he doesn't know his place or purpose in the world. You give him a purpose.

Simon makes it his goal to come back to you each time. Adjusting back to civilian life is difficult for him, but you helped him find some methods and tasks that make it just that little bit easier.

He loves it when you cook him food. Simon eats a lot, and no offense to the Cook on base or the MRE's, but your food is just his personal heaven. Even if you can't cook many things, he appreciates it all.

He's very much a man of few words but meaningful actions. So, when you do something nice for him, he feels so loved. Words don't mean that much to him purely because of the amount of liars he's met, but when you do something, no matter how small, he engulfes you in a hug and presses his lips to your forehead.

You've helped him become a better version of himself simply by loving him, and he will forever be grateful to you.

When Simon finds you prodding and poking at yourself while staring in the mirror with a crease between your brows, he knows he has to do something.

He pulls you into his lap and gently holds your cheek while telling you how amazing and gorgeous you are. As I said before, he's not a man of many words, so this means a great deal coming from him. Simon loves everything about you. There are no flaws in his eyes. And yes, that does include the rolls of fat on your body and all the chub that comes with it. (let's be real, no matter how big you are, Simon could carry you with ease)

You're so soft. He uses you as his personal teddy bear. He holds you close to his chest, and he has never slept better than when you were pressed against him.

I also think he’d be the perfect man for a chubby girl because he doesn't need to be as afraid of breaking you. He's very rough, and you're so fragile to him. He's assured that you won't fall apart if he just as much as look at you.

Again, big hands, that fit perfectly on the curve of your tummy.

Simon loves taking baths with you. The intimacy and closeness combined with the warm water and gentle scents has his muscle relaxing like never before. He found that you're even softer when your wet bodies are smushed against each other.

Simon Riley is infatuated with you and your extra pounds make it that little bit better in his eyes <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

There's still so much more I could add, I love these boys to death <3

I thought you might be interested in this @bravo4iscool 👀

[rhenuvee]

Made With Love [Neuvillette x reader]

Summary: Neuvillette has feelings for you, but doesn't know how to act on them. The Melusines try to help, but ultimately he wants to start and act on his own emotions.

A/N: Neuvilette in the last act of the archon quest made me sad :( // I need someone to say "Was that your first kiss in 500 years?" to Neuvi like Natasha to Steve.

Warnings: dialogue heavy, reader is shorter than Neuvi, reader is a baker

➽────────────❥

"Wait- Monsieur Neuvillette!"

A small voice called out. The Iudex was just about to go out for his weekly walk around the city, until a little Melusine stopped him. They were the ones who suggested he go out for some fresh air, since they sensed that he was still stirred from Fontaine's recent crisis along with handling his duties.

"Hm? What is it Sedene?" He asks, stopping in his steps so that she could catch up to him.

"Are you going to see (y/n)?" Sedene asks, putting her hand curiously to her lips. Straight to the point, the Iudex thinks. His breath gets caught in his throat for a split second, surprised at her words.

Despite being familiar with Melusines and their unique sixth sense, he feels like a deer caught in headlights when they suddenly mention you. Because they know about you- yet they never say the obvious thing directly.

The Melusines have noticed a change in his behaviour, and it started happening when he went out for his walks. One day the Chief Justice came back with a box of macarons, which was quite curious since he usually didn't eat sweets, and so he gave one to each Melusine he passed by. As time went on, more Melusines started noticing Neuvilette smiling... for seemingly no reason at all.

No reason except one that the Melusines instantly picked up on. In fact, you didn't exactly have to be a Melusine to recognize you and the Chief Justice's behaviour, both skirting around your feelings for each other. It didn't take them long to find out about you, and find your bakery from the thank you card in the box of macarons he bought. Monsieur Neuvillette in love... how exciting, they think.

However, with developing emotions comes confusion for the Iudex.

"Yes..." Neuvillette answers directly, yet a bit shyly, a bit surprised at his own forwardness with admitting it. Sedene gestures for him to bend down, to which he complies. She reaches up, and uses her hands to smooth out the top of his head.

"There we go, perfect!" she says cheerfully. Neuvillette realized what she was trying to do, and can't help but smile, though a little embarrassed. The Melusines have been trying to encourage him to act on his feelings, or at least make you realize that he is interested in you. Right now, Sedene was preening his hair, as if to get him ready for a date. He could only imagine the thought of that happening.

"Thank you Sedene, it is much appreciated. I'll be off now."

"You're welcome! Have a nice walk, Monsieur Neuvillette!" she calls out, waving cutely.

He should not be nervous since he was just walking to a bakery, is what he tells himself. However, the Iudex finds himself smoothing out his robes, suddenly thankful of Sedene's gesture with his hair. He takes a step inside the cute little shop as the bells dings.

"Welcome- oh! Good afternoon Monsieur Neuvillette!" Your cheery voice greets him warmly. He seemed a little spaced out to you, but you wait patiently for his response. You take the time to admire his features- You can't help but feel that he felt ethereal in a way. You had to admit he was quite handsome, with how beautiful his eyes were, and how tidy he kept his look.

"Good afternoon." You brush your hands on your apron and quickly walk towards him to have your weekly chats. "How was your week?"

"Busy." You say with a long sigh. "We've gotten so many orders lately, it's hard for me to keep up... Actually something interesting happened- I felt like my boss was about to fire me."

"What?" Neuvillette says in a surprised tone.

"No no! I was kidding! Well... kind of. I'm not sure." The truth about the bakery's rising sales was because of Neuvillette's constant visits. People are naturally shocked to see the Iudex doing things like this, which quickly lead to the Steambird catching this on the paper. You guessed the message was that if Neuvillette kept coming in, that meant the pastries were good.

However, your boss was suspicious thinking it was too good to be true. She noticed that Neuvillette would mostly direct his attention to you, which created the comical hypothesis that you were a criminal and the Iudex was onto you.

"She thinks I'm... going to try you?"

"Yes, it's kind of funny actually." You fish out a newspaper from last week, pointing to his picture photographed with headlines about him visiting the bakery. Neuvillette found it odd how he never seen this before. That, and how his hair looks from the back.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't apologize! Like I said, I find it quite humorous. Besides, I'm happy that more people have enjoyed our baked goods." You quickly reply. He smiles, giving you the relief that he doesn't need to feel sorry. "How have you been, Monsieur Neuvillette?"

"I've been feeling a little troubled as of late..." Usually when you ask him how things are, he provides a neutral answer. But today he decides to let his feelings out a little. You want to ask him, but you're afraid of crossing that boundary, that it might be personal. You feel bad, after seeing his furrowed eyebrows and downcast eyes, seeing how he might be dealing with something difficult.

"I hope things turn out better, Monsieur Neuvillette. If you want, I'm always here to listen." He smiled, which you now realize is quite a rare but beautiful sight. Neuvillette always admired your kindness, and it compelled him to get closer to you. He was aware he is no good at small talk, or even regular casual conversations, but he is willing to get better at it.

"Thank you, (y/n). I'm afraid this is something I have to deal with on my own." You nod, as a way to affirm his statement, then go around your counter to decide to grab something.

"Did Aeval like the raspberry flavoured macaroons I tried making? I wish I could've seen her reaction in person, but I haven't taken the Aquabus lately."

"I'll be sure to ask her for you, though I'm sure she does. Many of the Melusines are fond of your pastries, ever since I brought them some." He remembers that day. Your smile was just as bright as it is today.

"I'm grateful." You say happily... though there's something else you want to mention. "Speaking of the Melusines, is that a gift from them?"

You point to the top of his head.

"Oh, my hair ribbon?" He says fiddling his hand through the back of his hair. However, you shake your head.

"The tiara."

"The tiara-..." Neuvillette moves his hand to the top of his head, where he feels the tiniest tiara. He could not see it, but from the textures he felt some small shells and rocks. The Iudex realizes this was probably what Sedene was doing with his hair. You giggle, catching on that even he is just discovering it. "I suppose it is. Sedene must have put it in my hair just before this."

Neuvillette deducts that the tiara must be something from Melusine tradition that they wear for special occasions or gatherings. You watch as Neuvillette gives a chuckle, probably at how cute the Melusines actions were. And you couldn't disagree.

"You know, the Melusines have been saying a lot of good things about you." You say, trying to lighten the mood.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, they keep telling me how kind and intelligent the Iudex is." Neuvillette nods. The Melusines are very kind to him, so-

"And how tall he is."

Oh.

"And handsome."

Well.

Neuvillette politely covers the lower half of his face with his hand to hide his expression. He gets flustered at the thought of the little Melusines flattering him to you, while knowing their intentions.

"I apologize, I think the Melusines-"

"It's alright! I know they mean well. Besides, it's not really a surprise to me..." You say the last part shyly, but it doesn't go unnoticed by him. In fact it's the part that is highlighted the most, and almost prompted him to blush furiously before you quickly said something else. "I like it, it suits you." you smile, gazing up at him.

"Thank you, (Y/n)." Is all Neuvillette is able to utter, after seeing your beaming smile.

"You're welcome! Take these, they're on the house! I hope it'll make your day better." You present him a small box of some assorted sweets. all different flavours and decorated with different fruits.

"You're too kind, but I couldn't possibly take these without paying you."

"Oh please I insist! They're made with love." you coo the last part as a way to try and convince him, to which Neuvillette finds himself getting flustered at. It's a common phrase, and yet he interprets a slightly different meaning from it.

In his eyes, he finds you attractive, yes- cute when you wipe your nose when he tells you that you have flour on it, radiant when you smile while giving macaroons to the Melusines. He's come to know more about you the more he talked to you, and how kind you were. And though his weekly walks in the city were to ease his mind, he couldn't imagine not seeing you as a part of his routine. You are the reason why he has this foreign feeling inside him- one that makes his heart beat faster when you accidentally brush fingertips with him, or give him a compliment.

"Made with love..." He whispers, mostly to himself. You get flustered when you hear him say those words, thinking he might have caught onto your feelings. You hold your breath to prepare yourself for what he might say. "I quite like that."

To your surprise, the Iudex reveals to you one of his rare subtle smiles as you bring the box to him. You can't help but agree with his statement, except you meant it for how handsome he looks when he does that along with how soft his eyes get. You hope to see it more.

"I keep baking things for the Melusines, though you never told me what kinds of things you like. What do you like, Monsieur Neuvillette?"

For a moment, Neuvillette stares at your lips, then back at your eyes that are looking so sweetly at him. He feels his heart beating faster...

"You..."

He almost says that word- that dangerous one word.

"Neuvillette..." you say so softly that it's almost a whisper. Oh, he's starting to adore how you say his name without formalities. He reaches his hand out briefly, then retracts it and clears his throat. He wants to ask you.

But...

"I apologize." He realizes he doesn't know what he's apologizing for. "I... am not really sure what kinds of things I like."

"Oh." you say a little confused. The Iudex feels a little embarrassed, but you always know exactly what to say. Your smile doesn't falter when he gives his strange answer. "Well, when you do know, tell me!"

"I will." He says, in a little more firm tone- more like a promise.

➽────────────❥

A few hours passed, and it was evening now. It started raining shortly after his recent interaction with you. As the hydro dragon himself says, he does not weep, he is just stirred. He went back to his office, but wasn't able to concentrate on his work. He mulled over the interaction he just had with you. He feels like his emotions are about to leap out of his chest, and they almost did in that moment. Neuvillette is still in the process of getting used to expressing himself. He didn't know what to do next.

He wanted to ask you to dinner or something else you may enjoy, but found himself being held back. He was afraid of making you uncomfortable, the fact that he was essential now responsible for all of Fontaine, and furthermore his true identity which you do not know of. The Iudex even considered writing a letter to the traveller and Paimon to ask them for help, but didn't want to trouble them.

"Neuvillette!" he hears a faint voice call out for him. "Monsieur Neuvillette!"

He turns back, recognizing that the voice was you. But he couldn't see you in the city that was slowly getting more grey... except an umbrella with legs.

"Monsieur Neuvillette- you don't have an umbrella, you're going to get soaked!" you say in concern for him.

He realizes he can't really see your face since the umbrella was covering you... it's quite adorable. It makes him smile for a brief moment. He reaches for the handle and raises it up so that it now covers the both of you. The Iudex's breath gets caught when his throat tightens, when you are revealed to him.

Through his eyes, he can see you telling him something- however, he is not focused on that. He can't help but admire how your eyes glimmer even in these grey skies. How even when he was drenched you are happy to see him.

His overflowing heart cannot stop him anymore, for his free hand reaches to softly cup your cheek, his body bending down to your height. You let out a small gasp and immediately stop talking. Your heart is beating furiously as well.

"May I?" Neuvillette asks you with the most delicate of whispers.

"Yes," you say, unable to contain your smile. "Of course, Neuvillette." Yours and Neuvillette's eyes close as you bring your hands under his damp jaw. He is the one who closes the gap between you two, and kisses you with fervour, while not forgetting to be gentle. His lips are soft, melding with yours perfectly. His hand still holds your cheek throughout with a featherlight touch.

You and Neuvillette are all butterflies when you look into each other's eyes, relishing in what just happened.

"I believe I know the answer to your question earlier." The Iudex says breathlessly. "You have captured my heart, (Y/n)."

"And you have captured mine." You reply lovingly. Though, after saying it out loud, it seems you both knew this is how you felt for a while now.

"If I may ask, would you like to accompany me to have dinner and see a play at the Opera Epiclese after?" Neuvillette finally gets the confidence to express what he wanted to ask you. And he's even happier when he already feels he knows your answer from how you're smiling.

"I'd love to." You say, wrapping your arms around him. He returns the gesture with his one free arm, with both of you basking in the moment for a while before you head to your destination.

"The rain seems to be stopping." You say, gazing up at the sky seeing less droplets fall. Your eyes curiously watch how the rain magically decided to stop.

"So it is..." He does the same, except his eyes quickly fall back to you with a sigh of relief.

➽────────────❥

Thank you for being patient! I hope you all enjoyed. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are appreciated. Stay tuned for a milestone event and more of my drafts being released!

[morose-melodies]

to live comfortably | yandere! pantalone x reader

summary: you should give up on your failing business while you're still ahead, pantalone promises to help you recover!!

content warning: I dont think there's any

money couldn't buy everything it seemed.

not love, not happiness but most importantly, not your love.

at least, not the sort of love he wanted. "(y/n)," pantalone stepped towards you, "be honest with yourself - your business is going nowhere. you'd be better off allowing me to take care of it for you."

"no."

"you still refuse?" pantalone blinked, straightening his back, his hands pocketed in his coat, "well, aren't you stubborn," he mused.

"i don't care-- hey! get outta the doorway, you're blocking people from entering."

who would dare enter this building, pantalone stepped to the side, a small grin on his face, it's on the verge of collapse.

"can't you see I care for you? I'd hate for you to lose everything trying to sustain this-" dead-end, pantalone bit his tongue, "-business. you'd be better off in my manor, giving me company. you'd live comfortably, compared to how you're living now."

"I don't need your help. I really, really don't. actually, get away from the window; people won't want to enter if they see you here."

how headstrong you were. pantalone chuckled and stepped away from the window, walking into an aisle, "honestly, I've seen higher quality flowers-- in better shape and condition. you're not cut out for this business, (y/n)."

for the first time, pantalone saw a change in your expression-- your eyes narrowed and jaw tightened, "i didn't ask for your critiques."

"oh well, forgive me then. whenever your business comes crashing down, come to me. ill help you," Peeking out of the aisle at you, he grinned. then, exited the building.

honestly, he was a bit on edge in there, afraid of the roof collapsing on him.

...

not even a week later, pantalone was back.

"if you're not here to shop, get outta here-"

"that's no way to treat a customer," pantalone tuts, his eyebrows knit together in mock sadness, "I'm here to support your," doomed to fail, "business. give me your finest flowers."

you were doubting him, pantalone could tell that much from your narrowed gaze. "I'm being genuine, now, don't keep me waiting."

so, you grabbed the prettiest flowers of yours and made a bouquet out of them. "here ya go," you held the bouquet out for him to take.

pantalone couldn't stifle the smile that grew on his face as he took the flowers - it was beautiful, that much he could admit. "thank you, (y/n)."

and he paid you generously.

"do stay safe until next time," he would say just before exiting the shop, holding the bouquet to his chest as he walked down the snow-paved streets.

...

it's been two weeks.

the flower petals are dropping - the flower had since then died.

pantalone needs a new fix right about now. a new bouquet would do him well, he reasoned but he couldn't bring himself to rid himself of the old flowers.

they were still beautiful to him. whatever you graced with your touch should be cherished, no?

pantalone had spent those two weeks sitting by the window, staring at the bouquet in a vase. he watched those flowers deteriorate and die - and even then, he still admired them.

pantalone stood, dusted off his pants, and prepared to visit you once more.

it was always so rewarding.

so, he made his way to your flower shop to find that it was closed.

permanently closed.

the flowers were gone and so were you.

pantalone never knew you as well as he intended to. he had no idea where you stayed, he hardly knew anything about you - all he was sure of was that visiting your shop gave him a positive feeling.

he got addicted to that positive feeling.

without that feeling, what would he do?

well, he thought he'd have to figure it out, but from the corner of his eyes, he saw you. holding a bag of presumed trash, you were walking out from around the building.

he wasted not a moment approaching you, on his eagerness, his shoulder bumped yours, to which he muttered an apology before asking, "I'm sure you're wishing you had taken my advice now?"

"i guess..."

"it's never too late, (y/n). I'm not one to hold grudges," except that wasn't true, "entrust all your problems to me. I'll make it worth your while."

you sighed and pantalone expected you to reject his offer but instead, you said, "fine."

you don't seem to understand how much you make his day. you do as little as spare him a glace as you speak to him and he's head over heels for you.

taking your hand into his, he said, "oh, you won't regret this."

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Shower Me With Love

+18

Reader feels overwhelmed as a mother. Thankfully, Ruben knows how to make her feel good again.

Enjoy!

It was a hard thing to admit. A thought that brought you shame. But being a mother of three sometimes made you want to scream.

It was always at the end of the day, just before dinner and the moments after, that you felt like you had no control over yourself or the children. The oldest and the youngest would run around, chasing each other throughout the house. While the middle child needed help with homework that kept reminding you of the horrors of being a student with dyslexia. You simply felt incompetent as a mother, a sudden urge to take it out in your kids. They expected so much of you and so little of the rest of the world. Putting all of their trust in you and Ruben.

"I'm home."

"Daddy!"

Peace would fall upon your home whenever Ruben showed up at the door, a brimming smile on his face, arms open for the kids to run into his embrace. And just like that, the conflict within you simply seized to exist.

"Hi baby, how was your day?"

He would kiss you with a child clinging onto his neck and another his leg. You would tell him that your day was fine, leaving out the part where you almost had a mental breakdown again.

"How was your day?"

"Fine. We're doing alot to prepare for the game next week."

"I see."

Ruben would then fight his way through the house, carrying two children just to get to the third, who sat around the kitchen table, still tussling with homework. Ruben never failed to greet any of your children, giving them the individual attention that they all deserved. This he did better than you. It was a sad thing to admit. However, it was true. Ruben was better with the kids than you, or so the chaos in your mind made you believe.

"I'm going to hop in the shower." You announced. However, none of them seemed to have heard you. They were all gathered around the kitchen table, suddenly interested in doing homework. It didn't bother you as much as it could. This allowed you to slip away unnoticed, finally getting well needed time for yourself.

You would let the water run for at least an hour. The heat was scolding to the average man. However, the perfect temperature for you. You soaked in it, melting into a puddle of nothing. Someone without so much expectation on them.

"Baby?"

The knock on the bathroom door came just in time, like it did almost every night. Through the foggy glass, you saw your husband slip into the bathroom. The kids had been put to bed, leaving him nothing else to do but to join you in the shower.

"God, you're beautiful." He pulled open the glass doors, grinning at the sight of you.

"Don't just stand there." You teased, to which Ruben wasted no time stripping himself of his shirt, tugging his sweats pants down his legs. He winced with the first sensation of the hot water. Once his skin was used to it, his arms pulled your body towards him, pressing your back against his front.

"I've missed you." He said, whispering the words against the lobe of your ear. He then traced his kisses along the running water that ran down your shoulders and the length of your arms. Ruben then made you turn around and face him and the way he regarded you with such admiration and lust. How he never failed to make you feel special was a wonder itself.

"You okay?" He asked, perhaps seeing the fatigue in your eyes. Not even an hour spent in the shower could wash away your fear of inadequacy.

"I am." You nodded. However, it only rewarded you with a skeptical look frown from your husband.

"Don't lie." He said, which caused your heart to strain and tears to well up in your eyes.

"I'm okay, Ruben, I really am. It's just that the children...." You stopped yourself from admitting your sinful thoughts and how they would make you come off as an even worse mother than you already were.

"Y/N?"

Suddenly, all that anxiety seemed to evaporate with Ruben's touch upon your cheek. Even though he couldn't see them through the running water, he seemed to be drying away your tears.

"Why are you always so hard on yourself?"

You chuckled. "Perhaps because I have a husband who makes it seem so easy."

"It is easy." He nodded, and for a second, you thought about stepping out of the shower, ignoring the tempting way Ruben's growing erection put pressure against your stomach. "You make it easy." He smiled.

"I what?"

"I come home to a house where my kids are happy because my wife makes them happy. I get to play with them until it's time to put them to sleep and you leave me to help them with their homework which mends a big part of me that hates it when I'm gone for too long. Football and my career are temporary. You and our family are forever."

"Oh Ruben."

You had never thought of it that way. How you were the heart of the home that he came home to. How he, unlike you, enjoyed helping the kids with their homework, cherishing every moment he had with them considering that he wasn't present for the majority of their day.

"I love you." Ruben spoke the words into your skin, his mouth now attached to your collarbone, nipping the skin until it became softer and thicker as he reached your breasts.

"Fuck." You moaned as he licked across your nipple, taking it into his mouth. Ruben's rough hands then traveled down your body, searching for the soft folds of you slit.

"That feels so good." Your head knocked against his torso, your hands cradling around his head, fingers running through his wet hair. You kissed his lips as you stood on your toes, savoring the tase of him.

Ruben rubbed small circles on your clit, small but powerful.

"Just put it in." You nodded.

His laughter drummed in your ear. "Without a condom?"

"Why would you wear a condom in the shower?"

Again, his laughter drummed in your ear. You always seemed to forget the beginning of your troubles. How your hot showers with Ruben resulted in three kids barley a year apart from each other.

"Can I fuck you like this?" Ruben turned you over to face the wall, arching your back in a way that offered him your ass.

"Yes, like this." You nodded, eager to have him inside of you.

His muscles flexed as his hips aligned with your entrance, the hot water running down the length of your back.

"You ready?"

"Ready." You squealed to the sensation of the size of Ruben, easing into you. Like always, he started of slow, despite your plea for him to go hard right away. His thrusts then came in waves, slow and fast, a combination of both. The sounds of your breathless moans were confined to the sacred sphere that was your shower.

[kangmoon27]

CHAOS DISASTER | Jungkook Oneshot ff

Pairing: King-obsessed Jungkook x Princess Y/n [Royal Au,]

Summary: You meant no harm to anyone but with you not being by the king's side is a threat to everyone, chaos disaster will happen cause the king Is out there ready to throw kn'fe in everyone's throat without you by his side.

Tears falling. A dark cloud screams with lightning. Slippy mud. Rain falling. Everything is literally going through the same thing that you feel. Almost like it simplifies you, like the whole world is on the side of your feelings.

Is this how love should be? Painful?. You thought it's about happiness, feeling of satisfaction, the feeling of being loved, cherished, cared for, admiration but none of those feelings even went through your life. For you love is all about sadness, betrayal, hurtful, harmful, it will only hurt you and you should run before you even bury yourself in that stupid love that everyone believes and that's what you're doing right now. Running for your life.

Running for your remaining life that was drained because of that stupid love. No one can love you and no one will love you and that's all you have to believe. No more stupid butterflies, no more sweet kisses, no more romantic music, no more slow dance. You must bury them. No more.

Birds crys as well as you as well, falling onto your knees begging your heart to stop beating just to make the pain go away. Nothing is left, you're drained out.

It's raining cats and dogs. He tries to find a big tree to stop over and let the rain at least calm down. He settled himself under a hundred years old bristlecone pine tree. The cold blaze made him shivers, both arms find its way to wrap around his chest while watching the rain drops end in mud. As he's about to sit after an exhausting day he spotted a huge pile of fabric laying on the slippy wet ground.

The thing that instantly went to his thoughts is that he can use it so that at least he could keep himself warm under the cold blaze and rain drops pouring out. He walked towards it, pulling and forcing to take it in his direction when he suddenly noticed something. It's not just a pile of fabric but a woman. He was stunned and didn't know what to do but eventually he did what anyone would do if they are in the same situation and that is to help the girl and pick her up. He put her down under the tree and started wiping her face covered in mud. Looking at her unconscious face the man couldn't help but to memorize the beauty of the girl he's facing right now. He could feel his chest wanting to be ripped and offer his heart to the lady.

He chuckled and slapped himself to wake up from his dream. There's no way this woman would like him. Not when he's the laughing stock of the ton with his ugly face and poverty. No one would want to even be with him.

After an hour, the cloud finally stopped crying. He fixed himself and settled to leave but before he went. The man knee down offering the unconscious girl his bottle of water and some food. Clearly he's not a fool or that kind to just take a woman to his house and be that chaos in his life and he made that clear after looking at her for the last time before he walked away and went home.

Door cracks letting the other person know her brother is back. She turned around and immediately offered warm fabric that will help him dry himself.

"Have you heard the commotion in the kingdom? The princess is missing brother." The teen said while helping her brother to take his shoe off and put down his things.

The elder sighs and looks at his sister. "How many times do I have to tell you to not get yourself involved in those kingdom and palace things Myani".

"But brother-" as the younger one tried to defend herself her brother cut her off "No more Myani, no more".

He left her sighing and went straight to the table where his sister prepared food for both.

"The ton talks about the reward that they will get as soon as they find the princess, they said it a huge amount of gold and-"

"MYANI!!" Everything went silent after the man shouted. He angrily threw his food away and went out shutting the door behind her. She silently eats her food while looking down, instantly regretting everything she has done.

"Excuse me, may I ask for your help?" He turned around and saw the same lady he saw on the Forest just an hour ago. "What do you want" he said directly asking her. "Food a-and clothes if ever" she said.

It took a few minutes of his stares to finally let her in his house, offering her food and clothes that are owned by his sister. "What's your name? You're so beautiful" Myani asked. Looking at her soft skin and flawless features truly made her amazed by her beauty. "Wait are you princess?!" She asked excitedly.

"I-I am. I'm Y/n and you are?" You asked making the teen jump around in happiness. "Are you seriously the princess? But they said you run away, why? Don't you like being the Princess?." You were taken aback by the sudden question and the man seems to notice that even if he's standing a little far away from you.

"Myani that's enough, go and sleep now" as the man commanded, the teen couldn't do anything besides listen with a pout in between her lips.

"T-thanks, it's uncomfortable talking about it." You said. You continue eating your food while being watched by him.

"I'm returning you tomorrow." He said.

You stopped eating and look at him in horror, that's the least thing you thought about after meeting him.

"I'm no harm" you said with a low voice as the fear began to eat your entire brain and soul. Just the image of you returning to that hell is the end of you.

"You, yourself here is going to be the end of mine and my sister's life. I think you're aware that the king is already out there looking for you ready to throw a kn'fe in anyone's throat just to find you is that what you meant by not a harm?" He said while looking at you dead in the eye.

"Please don't, I'll do everything you want just please don't bring me back to that cruel monster." You immediately stood up and kneel In front of him but your begging seems to not have touched his heart a bit.

With a heavy heart you immediately stood up and decided to offer yourself to him, pulling the stand of your clothes and eventually stood up nked right to his face. "What are you doing?" He asked.

"Do whatever you want but please don't take me away from here. This is the only place I feel safe so please I'm begging you." His warm hand grabbed your shoulder. "You don't have to offer yourself, princess. But I hope you understand that I only care about my sister's safety." Picking your clothes and covering your exposed bdy with it before leaving you behind being helpless.

"What do you want?" The king asked.

"Peaceful life away from all your sins and evilness." Jungwoon said making the king laugh.

"You still haven't changed a bit brother. You came here offering me my beautiful bride just to ask me for a peaceful life? Chaotic. I have my word written in stone that whoever brings me the princess back will get whatever they want and you're actually the one who did so without feather question being asked just tell me what you want. Anything." The king said.

"I already said what I want" Jungwoon said making the king laugh once again.

"I think you're aware that the only place where you can live peacefully is dea'h right?, I believe that's where you wanted to go as well as our sister Myani right?."

As soon as the king said that, jungwoon couldn't help himself and immediately threw a hard punch in the king's face. "She doesn't have a monster brother like you. I'm trying to give her a good life!! away from your evilness!!"

Jungkook just laughed. "You're acting so pathetic, just admit it, you want my throne, you're jealous and furious about me being the king and not you, and it's because you're ugly and unwillingly for our people to follow your order with that kind of face, they even said you're the monster here."

Jungkook stared at his twin and shoke his head before pulling jungwoon's hate tightly making the other twin kneel in front of him. "Who would have thought that you're my own twin, we're nothing alike, you're the disaster between the two of us."

"You know what I actually wanted to see Myani if she suffered the same fate as you." With that jungwoon fight over trying to pin down the king but couldn't. "Don't you dare come closer to her!! I've already given her up for you!! So don't you dare touch Myani with your dirty hand." Jungwoon stated.

"Oh yeah, Y/n my beautiful wife, isn't she beautiful? So you actually reunited with our other sister last night huh, did you tell Myani about her Being her sister and her soon to be sister in law?" Jungkook smirked.

"You're cruel" Jungkook looked at Jungwoon for the last time before his knights threw him out of the castle.

"Please stop. Stop this please I'm your sister. " You begged him to stop but he didn't, begging him only made him feel more in power, more in control and that's the feeling he loved the most.

"And I'm your king, your husband." He said and growled after burying himself deep ins'de you. Your screams are like music to his ears.

"At least you've met your brother and sister before you get locked in this castle again. Don't worry my love, we will fill this kingdom with our numerous children." The king started making you lose your mind.

You don't know how long you can handle the chaotic happening in your life right now.

He's clearly not yet satisfied, he pulled you up and slapped your face. Several servants entered his chamber nked. You're drugged down, pin in bed as they hold your both hand and feet, offering you to their king.

The sensation is so good, so euphoric, hard ridges rubbing against your cl't as he slides into you. You almost forget about the other, but then he starts working his way into your a's, grunting with exertion as you m'an. Too much, too big, too full. You just couldn't help yourself.

Your head is spinning, your entire body on fire as he thr'sts in time. It feels like you’re being torn apart, and yet each stroke electrifies your nerves, sending waves of pleasure up your spine and through your limbs.

Your climax is forceful, your c'nt and a's clamping down on them as you cry out, tears blurring your vision as ecstasy overpowers you. Moments later, the king let his own groans, sticky seed filling you, overfilling you, dripping down your a's and between your th'ghs.

"This is the welcome greetings that I always want from you. But next time I'll make sure you won't escape me again." He said before pulling you up again. Tied you up in the chair and made you watch him doing himself with his sinful m'an calling out your name.

[naamahdarling]

Hi. I’m feeling sad too, I think that tends to happen late at night. At least we can be sad together lol

Yeah it's just a 3:00 thing. Literally I call it the "three o'clocksies". One of the best mental health things I've ever done for myself is learning to look at the time, and if it's after 3:00 a.m., I just tell myself I will put those feelings away until the next day, and I can feel them then if I have to. It doesn't work every time, but it works about 70% of the time, which is a lot better than the maybe 15 or 20% of the time I managed to deal with it by just powering through. Big fan.

Learning to approach strong negative emotions not arising directly from a currently unfolding crisis as temporary, and strong positive emotions as gifts and memories that I will get to have later has been really helpful. "All things pass" can be barbed, because that means good stuff too will pass. But that's just the nature of things, and we have a lot more control over what memories and feelings we keep with us than we think we do.

That is part of why I try so hard to find goodness when badness is around me. Because it really does make bad things easier to bear. I don't mean like spinning bad things into good things, or saying that bad things happen for a reason, I just mean things like moments of common kindness between strangers (which are actually a thing we can create ourselves instead of waiting to have happen to us or to observe), or a beautiful sunset the day you break your ankle, or the very very small child in the corner at urgent care who won't stop talking very articulately and at great length about how much he fuckin' loves chicken nuggets, or the person who took one look at me and didn't charge me anything at the gas station the night we lost Raleigh, no questions asked.

These moments aren't actually insignificant. They're the fabric of our lives, and by observing them even in the bad moments, we prepare ourselves to see them the rest of the time, it makes things easier. It's like putting flowers in a hospital room inside your mind. I may feel like dying, but somebody brought a miniature goat named Tom Brady to PetSmart with them and I got to pet him.

I'm not full of shit here, I have really been through it this past year. It really is worth it to struggle to look and see ordinary life around you as full of small surprises and little kindnesses. It isn't about some kind of bullshit healing through positivity thing (I think "positivity" as it is pushed at us is toxic bullshit) it's not going to cure your mental illness or whatever, it isn't going to take you out of the terrible circumstances fucking you over, it isn't going to undo your trauma, it's just seeing all the small good things that are easy to overlook, and realizing that some days, seeing the small good things really can be enough. That isn't pathetic or bleak, that isn't trying to fill your belly with nothing but crumbs and telling yourself you're lucky, it's just an underlying kind of warmth that it would be really unfortunate to not look for and allow yourself to feel.

It's a way of inhabiting life deliberately, and not just suffering through it. And it's taking me years to develop, and no, I can't always hold on to it, it isn't something that you can be successful at 100% of the time. But man, things got a lot better for me when I started taking pictures of the sky almost every time I go outside, and admiring strangers' questionable fashion choices, and wondering about things like what kind of person would buy this puzzle featuring a John Deere tractor, and enjoying small brown birds having a dust bath next to the drive-thru at Sonic, or taking pictures of interesting graffiti, or noticing the single mirror-spangled drag queen platform high heel on the side of the road, all of that. Things got better for me when I started to really care that I got to see those things.

IDK this got long. But I think...it's all right to be sad, I think sometimes we just have to be even when we aren't sure why. And that can and should coexist with the rest of the world being out there and ready to be seen, even through tears.

[propertyofyoutube]

Anything for you Mrs Golbach - EXPLICIT

Summary: it was your's and Sam's wedding day. It had truly been the most magical day so far, and the wedding coordinator tells you take a little break alone before the party begins...

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, bad language, quickie, unprotected sex, creampie, lots of fluff, wedding day woo. Husband sam!

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"Okay! 3, 2, 1, cheese!" Your mom shouted as she held up her phone to take a photo of you and all of your bridesmaids. It was roughly halfway through your wedding day. You had officially married the love of your life, already drank at least half a bottle of wine, taken a gizillion photos, smiled none stop and had to redo your makeup 3 or more times from the happy tears.

You all cheered as mom took many photos, switching your poses every few seconds, you felt nothing but happiness as you stood surrounded by your best friends on the most magical day of your life. "Absolutely gorgeous!" Your mom shouted as you all laughed and cheered.

"I can't believe you're actually married!" Your maid of honour said as she shook your shoulders.

"I know right! Look at me!" You laughed as you held up your hand showing the 2 most important rings on your finger. "I'm a wife!"

All the girls laughed, "I'm just glad Sam didn't turn up in an XPLR tracksuit!" Your friend said as everyone laughed even louder.

"Don't!" You sighed, "I told Colby, do not let him talk about ghosts during his speech, and thankfully, Colby made sure the speech was absolutely amazing!" You said as you sipped your wine.

"I cried the whole way through it." Your maid of honour said as she wiped under her eye remembering the loving words Sam had said about his new wife.

"Me too..." you smiled, you grabbed your best friend's hand, "it has honestly been everything I've ever dreamed of."

Suddenly you felt a hand slowly touch your back as it snaked around your waist, "Mrs Golbach?" Sam's voice travelled down your ear as you turned your head to his handsome face smiling at you. All your friends squealed with excitement as they heard him call you that.

"Husband?" You replied with a smirk.

Sam's hand suddenly moved to the top of your arm as he slowly slide it down to gently grip your hand, lifting it to his lips. "Please may I steal my beautiful wife for a moment?" He said with a smile to all your girls.

"Of course!" Your maid of honour said quickly as the girls hurried away back to the bar.

You smiled watching as they scurried away, "what can I do for you Mr Golbach?" You smirked bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck.

His hands rested against your back as he pulled you close to him, "firstly, you can kiss your husband, Mrs Golbach." Sam said with a smirk as he leaned down connecting your lips in a soft sweet kiss. As he pulled away he smiled down at you. "And secondly, Lauren the wedding coordinator has said we should, 'take this time to soak in our marriage' before the party begins..." he said with just the warmest grin on his face.

"Oh really?" You said with a smirk as you admired his features. You've wanted nothing more than to rip this tux off him all day.

Sam rolled his eyes with a smile, "we only have 10 minutes before the party starts..." you pouted your lips in a face sad expression as he laughed, "you have another dress to put on, and I really want to watch you take this off... slowly... and then put your other dress on, even slower." He said as he bit his lip nodding his head.

You laughed as you downed the rest of your wine, "let's go then, baby." You smiled as you pulled him by the hand towards a near by take, carefully placing your glass down.

"Congratulations y/n and Sam!" A relative shouted as you both smiled and waved.

"Thank you so much!" You both said in unison as you continued over to the front desk of the manor. After a couple of kind words exchanged by the receptionist, she handed you the key to the honeymoon suite.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

As you walked into the beautifully decorated, Victorian style Manor House, master bedroom, the four poster bed instantly caught your eye. "Oh wow..." you gasped as you wondered around, your fingers dancing across the old furniture. After a moment you turned around to look at Sam as he leaned against the wall, admiring how you moved with his bow tie already hanging loosely around his neck.

You smirked before moving to the middle of the room, Turning your back to Sam, "do you mind baby?" You said as you signalled the back of your dress.

"Of course." He said softly as he took a deep breath. He walked towards you slowly, his eyes travelling up and down your body. He loved how your wedding dress showed your figure perfectly. As he reached you, he lifted his hands to your lower back where the top of the dress sat, suddenly, his face fell confused. "Uh..." he chuckled, "how do I do this baby?"

You laughed with him before you spoke, "it's just a zip babe! The buttons are for show! Move the fabric over!" You couldn't help but giggle as Sam sighed.

"Women and their deceiving buttons..." he joked as he found the top of the zip, his fingers gripping it tightly. He slowly began to pull the zip down your back, the loosening of the fabric sending goosebumps over your entire body. You breathed heavily, wishing you had more time to be pounded by your new husband. The zip sam held slowly revealed the gorgeous white Lacey underwear, that sat comfortably against your ass cheeks. "Fuck..." Sam gasped as he felt his dick began to grow, his trousers tightening at the sight. You felt a smirk spreading across your face as you slowly slide your arms out of the dress, allowing it to fall hitting the floor. You stood there in nothing but the panties that were making Sam's mouth water.

You heard as Sam swallowed hard and you turned to face him slowly. Sam's eyes fell wide as your bare breasts came into view. Even after all this time, your absolute beauty never fails to amaze him. Both of you stood for a moment, your breathing caught in your throat as your jaws fell slack, "we better get changed." You said reluctantly, but your stare said otherwise.

Sam didn't say anything, you knew that look in his eyes, that was his 'I'm going to fill you up' look.

"We can't be late baby..." you said seductively with a smirk, as you subtly lifted your hand brushing it against his rock hard bulge. You watched Sam twitched from your touch, his breath hitched.

"Fuck it." Sam's voice was low as he spoke and he quickly grabbed your face with both hands, pulling you tightly into a heated, passionate kiss. As tongues fought for dominance your hands moved to slip off his suit jacket, tossing it aside. You both giggled as your hands tickled his torso, your fingers making their way down one button at a time. Before you could move it off his arms, Sam quickly lifted you off the ground as your legs wrapped around his waist. His hands squeezed your ass cheeks as you laughed. "Fuck baby, we gotta make this quick." He said as he tossed you onto the bed.

You bit your lip and nodded your head as Sam quickly moved to hover above you, reconnecting your lips again. The kisses were quick but filled with passion and desperation for one another. Sam moved as his head kissed from your lips, along your jaw, down your neck and back up to your lips again as a string of moans left your throat.

He suddenly lifted himself off you as he grabbed your laced panties, pulling them down fast as your legs quickly escaped them. Sam smirked down at you as he repositioned himself, his hands and lips exploring your whole body, "Sam... please." You squirmed beneath him.

Sam chuckled as he reached down, quickly undoing his trousers, not even bothering to take them off. He pulled them down slightly, just enough for him to pull his cock out. He teased your entrance as you both let out moans, "anything for you, Mrs Golbach." Sam said as he suddenly pushed himself inside of you. Your body arching off the bed as you both moaned out simultaneously. "Fuck..." Sam groaned lowly.

"Fuck baby." You moaned as your head threw back, Sam instantly hitting you with fast and hard thrusts. Sam's hands both reached for yours as he pulled your arms up and over your head, holding them in place by your wrists. His lips connected to yours as you both swallowed each other's moans.

"What's your name baby?" Sam smirked as he breathed heavily.

"Y/n..." you moaned out.

Sam picked up his pace, "no baby, what's your full name?" Sam said deeply as you felt that familiar knot forming in your stomach.

"Fuck- fuck...." You moaned loudly as your orgasm was inches away, your walls clenching around Sam's dick making him groan even deeper. "Y/n... go- Golbach!" You cried out.

"Fuck!" Sam began to pound into you as his dick began to twitch, "you're mine... forever." His voice was low and hoarse as he spoke. Your legs began to shake, "cum for your husband, baby." Sam demanded as your body exploded into ecstasy.

"Fuck, Sam!" You cried out as you came, your legs shaking uncontrollably as your entire body was filled with pleasure.

"Fuck yeah..." Sam groaned as he pounded harder a couple more times before a string of expletives left his mouth, his hot cum filling you up as he pushed himself as deep as he could into you.

You both breathed heavily as he lowly pulled out of you. You opened your eyes are you looked up at him, nothing but love in both of your hearts. "I love you." Sam said, his breath shaken.

You pulled his head down to kiss him softly, "I love you more." You whispered against his lips as you felt his lips turn into a loving smile.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You and Sam ran down the stairs, hand in hand and stood outside a huge set of wooden double doors. He quickly pulled you in one last time to kiss you deeply. As he pulled back he gave you a warm smile, "you ready baby?"

You giggled before fixing his hair slightly, "I'm more than ready."

Just as you replied you heard the echoing from the speakers as the DJ excitedly announced, "ladies and gentleman, I'm so happy to introduce, your bride & groom, the newly married couple, Mr & Mrs Golbach!"

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Authors note: I hope you liked this one! I thought it was so cute! My requests are open so let me know what you'd like to see! Xx

[thesassypadawan]

Santa Tell Me (A.J. x Button!Reader)

Summary:  It’s Christmas Eve and you except your boyfriend of year to pop the question…again.  However, before he can…you surprise him with a special gift of your own.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the fluff with a bit of the smut. Fun from behind (giddy up), misuse of a jolly old elf’s hat, size diff, ho ho hoe lingerie, and… A.J.’s big, fat dick.

Notes:  Happy Holidays, lovelies!  Welcome to track seven of my special holiday mix, Santa Tell Me! ❤️💚

(Merry Christmas, @everydaydreamer! And thank you for making the perfect pic for this! 🎅)

- ‘Santa, tell me if you're really there…  Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year…’

- One big hand comes to settle on your hip, squeezing gently.  The other taking your smaller one, lazily lacing and intertwining your fingers together.  Swaying you both slowly back and forth to the familiar, festive music.  Blue eyes locked with yours in the mirror’s reflection; gaze warm, affectionate…loving.

- “Look absolutely flawless, doll,” he mutters.  Voice low and gravelly, rumbling deep in his chest…through your petite frame.  Goosebumps forming on your skin…and not from the nonexistent chill in the air.  “Gorgeous like always, ‘cept it’s missin’ one thing.”

- You knew all too well where the conversation was going.  In the short year you two have been an item, you’ve heard it at least a dozen or so times.  The same sweet, endearing request; accompanied by the same little, velvet box.  That he seems to make appear out of nowhere, just like…

- “Oh, baby,” you sigh, hint of sadness in your words.  Watching A.J. pull it out from his vest pocket, fiddle and roll it with his long digits.  “I know you want to marry me bad, but…”

- Words fall short when he pops the lid open.  Revealing not a ring.  Instead what was easily the most beautiful, breathtaking opal necklace you’ve ever seen.

- “I know, I know…‘we’ll see’,” he chuckles.  Repeating your usual response, while helping you put it on.  Calloused fingertips brushing, lingering for an extra moment or two on the nape of your neck.  “Someday though, it’s gonna be…‘yes’.”

- Slight smile pulling at the corners of your pink tinted lips.  As you admire the way it sparkles in the twinkling light, the fact he remembered the significance of this stone.  At the amount of faith, patience he has in and when it comes to you.  Plus a few other things.  “Yeah…we’ll see.”

- Shrugging, leaning down he places a tender kiss on your cheek…the top of your head.  “Come on, we better get goin’.”  Before straightening up once more, giving a quick tap to your perfect bottom.  “Don’t wanna be too late to the party.”

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- All evening long, you’re very much an inseparable pair.  Never one without the other, practically glued together at the hip. 

- With you holding onto, pressing into his side.  Peppermint swirled nails occasionally trailing up his spine, gently scratching a certain spot between his shoulder blades.  That has him grunting softly in appreciation…those lean muscles contorting, relaxing beneath your welcomed touch.

- As for him, well…  Hardly a minute passes when he doesn't have an arm wrapped around your waist or a palm resting on the small of your back.  Fingers rubbing, massaging.  Sometimes traveling a bit lower, under the hem of your cocktail dress when he thinks no one is looking…drawing out a tiny, muffled squeak from you each time.

- But on the rare instance when you weren’t attached to your better half.  You could be spotted with the rest of the ladies.  Mingling, being asked, more like grilled, on whether you finally caved…finally gave him the answer he wants to hear and officially join their patchwork family. 

- “We’ll see,” you would reply simply and politely.  Smiling coyly over the rim of your glass, at his turned back from across the room.  Watching as he folded another hand in the guys’ silly card game.  Listening to him echo your own words, undoubtedly given the same question.

- All in all, he whole night went by in what feels like a blur.  Of hearty laughs, variety of decadent treats, one too many cups of good cheer…a few stolen kisses below the mistletoe.  And, soon enough, you find yourself tugging on A.J.’s hand.  Bring him level, whispering in his ear for you to be whisked home.  Where the real party could begin, the best part yet to come…his last gift.

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- Crashing through the front door, nearly chipping the paint and knocking a picture off the wall.  Tongues tangled, lips meshed together in perfect harmony.  With your digits unabashedly pulling at his belt, fumbling for his fly.  And his slipping beneath the folds of your skirt; seeking out that string of mysterious, elusive lace felt during his earlier escapades.

- “Don’t be stingy, sweetheart,” he murmurs between heated kisses.  Hand inching ever higher, palm cupping and kneading a sweet cheek.  “It’s already after midnight.”  Thumb nonchalantly hooking, fiddling with the delicate fabric teasingly…letting it snap.  “Wanna open my present.”

- Jumping slightly, a squeal mixed with an excited giggle bubble up from your throat.  “Mmmh, all right.”   All the while rubbing, massaging that delectable bulge; enticing it to grow, strain the front of his trousers.  “Since you’ve been such a good boy this year.”  Giving it one last gentle squeeze, earning one more grunt.  Before…

- Gone for only a hot minute or two, you return to find him lounging naked on the couch.  Arms draped over the back lazily, long legs spread casually.  Santa hat perched perfectly, barely covering his candy cane and sack of goodies.  “That’s certainly a look, J.”

- Smirking, rising to his feet.  He keeps the jolly old elf’s cap securely in place as he saunters over, comes to meet you in front of the panoramic window.  Fingertips tangling, playing with the ribbon wound and tied perfectly around…  “Says the woman wearin’ paper like a dress.”

- Anticipating the inevitable sassy quip that would undoubtedly come, he acts quickly and smoothly.  “Not that I’m complain’.”  Bending, burying his face into the crook of your neck.  Lavishing your sugar cookie scented skin in love bites and nips.  “Or grateful.”

-As he tears away, takes his time. Savoring, slowly and carefully unwrapping.  “Musta been real good.”  Revealing the sexy, little ho-ho-hoe number that lay beneath.  “To deserve somethin’ this sweet…”

- Skillfully and in a single, fluid motion.  A.J. whirls, twirls you to the music that plays softly in the background.  “…exquisite…”  Pushing you against the cool glass.  Pinning and holding, encompassing you completely with his larger frame. Stocking hat left forgotten on the floor, laying amongst the shreds of discarded paper.  “…wonderful like ya.”

- Eyes hungrily sweep and take in your red, tulle clad form.  Meeting, locking with yours in the reflective surface.  “Now, on them tip-toes, baby doll…”  Palm smoothing down your semi- clothed back, following the intricate details and patterns of the bustier.  Settling on your hip, tugging on it a bit too roughly.  “…lemme try out my new toy.”

- Eagerly you ease, precariously balance on them.  Sparks of anticipation bursting, bemused smile crossing your face.  Watching him still have to slouch, crouch slightly.  To align himself with your aching entrance.  “Sure you’re not too big for this one?”

- Laying tender, adoring kisses along your spine.  His free hand finds, gropes a pert breast.  “Nah, not too big.”  Thumb swirls, fingertips rolls and pinches your pebbled bud.  Fat tip prods, teases at your soaked folds core.  “Always liked my playthings to be a little on the small…”  Surging forward, steadily stretching.  Forcing your tight cunny to open with his thick cock.  “Fuck…side.”

- Moaning, whimpering…nails scramble, scratch lightly.  Palms flatten, brace against the steamed-up glass.  While he thrusts, pounds into you unbridled and wild.  Toned chest pressed to, resting his full weight onto you.  A.J. looms above, grunting and groaning in your ear each time he bottoms out.  Increasing his pace with every powerful drive.

- “So…shit…”  Bullying and hitting, bruising your cervix over and over.  “Lemme get…”  The heat rises, pools in the pit of your stomach.  “Lemme get this straight…”  Peak approaching swiftly, gummy walls fluttering and burning.  “You’ll become the Clause Man’s wife before m-mine?”

- Body tenses, goes ridged.  Starts to shake from all the overwhelming pleasure that courses through.  “Who…who said that wasn’t you…”  You can feel him twitching and throbbing.  Shuddering as he draws closer to his own release, mind-numbing orgasm.  “That you’re not San-San…”

- Slamming hard, you both cry out in bliss.  You clamping and clenching, gushing all over him.  While he paints your insides a sticky, snowy white; stuffing your little stocking nice and full.

- Panting, knees shaking.  He helps you back down onto your feet.  Immediately wrapping, swallowing up your unsteady form in his strong arms.  Laughing happily and joyfully.  Peppering the top of your crown in frantic, loving kisses.  All because you finally agreed.  Said the one thing he’s been waiting to hear since he first presented you with that little, velvet box.  “Then I guess ya better call me Santa… Mrs. Clause.”

- Bursting out into a fit of giggles, sporting an elated grin.  You tilt your head back, teasing playfully…finally getting in a smart remark.  “So, Santa…tell me what else you want?”

- “Yeah, actually.”  Mirroring your smile, he starts to lazily rock…buck and rut again.  “I could think of one thing or two.  Maybe even three.” 

- Santa, tell me if he really cares…  'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year…’

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @lotte08, @rafeswifeyy2, @exsamlockwood-kate, @sythethecarrot, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @fuckmyskywalker, @everydaydreamer, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @erosmutt, @xhunnybeeex, @vaderswifey, @anakinstwinklebunny

@hearts4sammonroe, @pitas-star, @sythethecarrot, @naberriess, @steven-grants-world, @valyna27, @elcaballerodragon, @yayyy5678, @anakinsrilgirlfriend, @padme-urlove,  @brattyyybbg, @mrschr1stensen, @rosie-chan92, @beresfordsgirl, @darthdaddi, @icosmiclou, @whoisgiinaa, @kentaviax, @arcj

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 2 of 3)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; EMDR (VIVID intro to revisiting traumatic situations); crying + feelings of sadness; heart issues (POTs); use of heart monitors; dangerously high heart rate; implied abusive situations; derogatory verbiage from past abuser; implied drug use; very unsanitary living conditions; visits to safe place; usage of containment strategy * * * revisited, vivid memories of sexual encounters; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones (+ continuing to act on them ;)); reader and jake continue to be STUBBORN; cheating; heavy petting; forgetfulness (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter 11 (Part 2) Word Count: 23.9k+

a/n: i broke my promise, i know. :( i feel absolutely fucking terrible that i made you all wait, but life happens. :'( i wish this story was my main priority/job, but alas...that dream is not a reality. i need you all to know: when i say i'm going to do something, i fully intend on it, but...life (and crippling adhd + anxiety).

i am so incredibly sorry, my lovely readers. :(

also, life update to blame (only if you care to read). BUT, on top of trying to get my house completely cleaned/shit thrown away, i officially had to empty out my classroom (see also: due to toxic work enviro, i had to leave the career i've wanted to live out since i was six y/o). so, i'm currently in the process of completely shifting careers (going from one emotionally taxing career to another, but that is apparently the type of job my heart desires lol).

as always, big thank you to @joshym for being the best sister there ever was and supporting me in my writings + pursuits <3 i love you to the ends of the earth, lis. you're my person. <3

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

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

"I covet truth; beauty is unripe childhood's cheat; I leave it behind with the games of youth."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

-🌼🌼🌼-

Monday

December 12, 2022

“So, any news on the baby since I last saw you?” Gia started, a sure smile on her face that helped ease you. “You had your second appointment on Thursday, right?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Dr. Rose wanted to just wait until closer to Week 18 so we could find out the gender at one session rather than having to wait between week 16 and week 18. Knock everything out at once,” you explained, clearing your throat. Looking around the office, you admired the pieces of floral art littering the walls, as you always did. “We’re going this Friday now.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Gia asked, raising a brow. She was rolling to her desk, getting the (seemingly) last thing she needed for your session today and placing it in her lap. “Not stressed about putting it off?”

“No, actually. I’m not stressed at all,” you acknowledged, sticking your lip out in thought. You hadn’t even thought to be stressed yet. Progress? Sure seemed like it. “It’s strange; the longer time passes, the bigger I get. . . The worries just aren’t as prevalent. It’s like I can feel that the baby is okay.”

“Not strange at all, babe,” Gia reassured with a shake of her head. Her platinum blonde hair was wavy today, framing her angular face perfectly. “Completely normal for new mothers to sort of get used to the pregnancy enough to feel at peace, per se. And I am so proud of you for getting to that point.”

“Well thanks,” you grinned crookedly, trying your best to settle into the worn, camel-colored leather of her sofa. “Can’t say the same for today’s session though. . . I am nervous about it.”

Gia waved it away, showing you a look of ease on her stark features. “No need. You’re the one in control, girly,” she winked, placing both white-sneakered feet on the ground. 

She reached in her desk drawer for the little pouch, the familiar one that you knew held the device you’d be using today. A sudden wave of nerves began to crash over you as she unzipped it, revealing it and the paddles that would be the catalyst in placing your brain. . .elsewhere— somewhere. 

Somewhere bad? Good? In-between?

“Here’s the plan,” she started, wheeling her chair closer to the couch, where you were trying your damnedest to sit comfortably. “We’ll start with your safe place to give you some sense of peace and stability — gotta make sure it’s still fresh and open in your mind.” 

You watched as she turned the knob of the device, the little green light beginning to blink to notate that it’s on. “Then,” she continued, situating the device to look it over before her green eyes settled back on you. “Once you feel comfortable, I’ll tell you to begin walking away. Whatever direction you’d like to go, it’s completely up to you.” 

Gia held the paddles out in front of you, and with clammy, shaky palms, you tentatively took hold of them. One in each hand, just like last time.

You couldn’t stop worrying about where you’d end up, where you’d walk away to. Walking away from your beautiful field, from Jake. . . What if you couldn’t do it? 

“Will I. . .,” you cleared your throat, nervous. “If where I go is too hard, do I just—,” you panicked, unable to properly finish your sentence due to an onslaught of nerves. “What will I do?”

You were fumbling with your words and clarity, before she interjected, knowing just where your mind was going. “I’ll simply tell you to walk back to your safe place. I’ll be talking you through it, I’ll be right here the whole time — just gotta keep your ears open for me,” she winked, clicking open her iPad and testing her Apple pencil on the screen, readying to take notes. 

“And, if at any point I see your body language change to indicate any distress, I’ll guide you back to your safe place, okay?” She soothingly told you the words, her full pink lips widening to a sweet smile, clicking her pencil into its spot at the top of her iPad case. “Remember, my specialized area is EMDR. I’ve done it multiple times before this – successfully. I plan to complete this successfully with you, too, y/n.”

When you gave her a small, timid smile, she took that as an indicator to continue on with her little speech. The tiny faux grin on your otherwise concerned face was the most emotion you could muster in that moment. 

“It will hurt from time to time. I can’t take that away. It will be harder than most other things you’ve ever had to do.” She paused, her own brows curving to show care for your rigid state. Gia reached forward to unwrap your hands from the paddles gently. Once she had a hold on your hands, she rubbed the backs of them reassuringly, her thumbs so soft with their intricate patterns. You looked down to study the patterns, working to focus on something else and rid yourself of the nerves. 

“Y/n.” She stated your name, making you look up at her. Her seafoam-colored eyes grabbed yours. “Before we begin. . . I want to make sure – once more – that you are sure about this . . . that you want to continue. We’ve talked about it a lot, but I want you to be sure. There are other routes of therapy. . .”

“No,” you replied, completely sure of your decision. “No. I want to do this. I promise I haven’t changed my mind. I don’t want to change my mind,” you rushed out, desperate for her to understand you. “I’m just–just scared. Is that not okay?”

You didn’t mean to sound defensive, but your biting tone contradicted that. The nerves were wracking you, from the inside out. 

Luckily, Gia seemed unphased, keeping with her featherlight touch to the backs of your hands. “It absolutely is okay to be scared,” she confirmed, tone firm and soft all at once. “But, I need you to keep in mind: you are in charge this time. You have the power. We will approach these places in the now – you are in the driver’s seat of conquering these past battles. We’re in this together, love – and we will make it out stronger and better than before we started.”

Her voice assured you, of course. But the fear was still ever-present. 

Sure, you did have control. But what if you couldn’t control where you went? 

Where would you go? That was what scared you most. Your mind was bound to let loose. It was one telling part of this sort of therapy. You didn’t really know what had been hiding deep in the drawers of the credenza in your mind. . .  

Hence you being here.

You just knew, whatever it was lying beneath the surface — you knew it was. . . a lot. 

Then, as if she could hear the additional fearful thoughts swimming in your brain, she grasped your hands tighter in hers, moving to rub her thumbs over the tops of your knuckles. “You’ll be just fine. We’ve got a solid plan, babe. I just need you to trust me, and I need you to trust yourself. If you need to walk away, tell me and we’ll do it. That is in our power – your power.” Her pristinely white, pearly teeth were on display as she looked deep into your worried eyes. “We can do this, okay?”

We. I’m not alone. 

You’d never had a single doubt about Gia. Of course you trusted her. But. . .maybe the true problem was trusting yourself. . . Over the past several months, you were finding that to be a bit more difficult. 

But, Gia was right. You had to put some trust in yourself to know when you needed to step away. You could do it. You had to.

And knowing that she had a plan and had done it so many times before. . . Those were relieving thoughts, to say the very least. She knew what she was doing, and she knew what was best for you. 

I can do this, you recited to yourself. I can. . .

You sighed, out of both relief and persistent worry. “I trust you,” you told her, another somewhat forced smile following your words. “And I’ll learn to trust myself. . . I’ll try my best,” you grinned sheepishly. “We’ve got this.”

“Good deal,” she responded with a far more sincere smile than you could offer. “There’s just one more thing we need to do before we get started.” 

She clicked her iPad closed, wheeling back toward her desk, reaching down in the same drawer she pulled the device from. Only this time, she pulled out a large legal style, white notepad, and a large box of Crayola markers. Lastly, she grabbed a flawlessly sharpened pencil from the ceramic baby blue jar, covered in white roses, next to her keyboard. 

What could she be up to? You wondered, eyebrows drawn together. 

“I need you to describe something for me, something visual to lock any horrible memory away in.” She took a sip of her tea, which sat atop her desk, before she stood up from her chair. She came to sit directly next to you on her couch. The smell of eucalyptus that swirled off of her, from her perfume, was soothing. “You need to give it lots of detail, make it unique. I’ll even draw it for you,” she held up the notepad, pointing to it with a gentle smile. “Seeing it visually will help you when it’s time to lock the memories away mentally. Some people want a box, a filing cabinet, a treasure chest,” she laughed, and you giggled at that one, too. Jake would love that one. Buried treasure, like his pirate documentaries. . . “Whatever you want. You just tell me exactly what you want it to look like.” 

Something about this felt a little silly, but you understood the purpose for it. Just having a place to put the memories after you visited them, it felt like closure. A special sort of closure at the end of every session, just like your safe place felt like closure. . .

And then, you knew what you wanted it to look like. Saw the image, clear as day, in your mind. It felt significant to you, it felt right. There was no question. 

But, you had a thought.

“Would–would it be okay if I drew it?” You questioned carefully. 

She eagerly handed you the notepad, markers and pen with a huge smile. “Absolutely. That’s called trusting yourself big time, girly. This box is a special one!” Her voice was wet as she sniffled. “I’m not supposed to get so emotional with my clients, but I’m proud of you. You’re making great strides and we’ve barely started.”

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a bit encouraged, your own throat tight as you reviewed her once more with a glance. 

Then, sticking the tip of your tongue out from the corner of your mouth, you looked down at the paper, and began. 

A small, wooden box was all you could see in your mind. So, you drew it out, as best you could, given your lack of artistic abilities.

One side, then the other, the bottom, the top. . .

Before you knew it, you had a perfect, rectangular box on the stripped notebook paper. Then, it was time for the important part: the details. 

There was only one element that felt right — felt safe — to decorate the box with. 

Scouring through the markers, you found two perfect shades of purple at the bottom — two very different shades, to add depth. You weren’t an artist, really, but you could pretend for the box’s sake. 

Then, you searched for the greenest green you could find. One more marker in a shade of dark brown, and you were ready to draw the box exactly as you saw it in your mind. 

You began drawing tiny individual stalks of lavender on top of the box. You filled in their blooms with the purples, drawing their stems underneath with the green. Their placement may have seemed scattered across the top, but you kept going. To you, it made sense. And that was all that mattered. 

One bloom in the top left corner, one diagonal from it in the bottom right corner. Then, there was one on the bottom left going straight up and down, with a slight curve to the stem. . . And one more, laying on its side directly in the middle. . .

It was perfect. Just as you’d imagined.

You filled in the blank spaces with the brown marker, immulating the antiqued, stained mahogany wood you were envisioning. 

And once you filled it all in, your vision had come to life right before your own eyes. It was the ideal picture of what you saw, and despite the fact that you were no artist, it was beautiful. You loved it. Looking at it forced emotions you weren’t expecting, so many big emotions that begged to be surfaced. 

And for whatever reason, looking at it made you think of the baby. This beautiful, hand drawn box held a strange connection to the life you and Jake had created, though you couldn’t explain how. . . 

But, you felt it. You felt it so strongly. 

“Lavender means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Gia asked you, smiling and wiping away a stray tear that sat on top of her highlighted cheekbone. “It’s very lovely, y/n. And I’m so glad that you drew it.”

You contemplated her question about lavender. You’d never considered just how prevalent it was in all of your happy places. . . But, it was. It meant so much. . . 

Who knew that such a simple plant could bring you so much comfort? So much peace? 

A tear came to your eye at the thought of how special the plant had become to you. . . It was really no secret why it’d become special. 

Gia leaned over, giving you a small side hug, but didn’t linger before making her way back to her chair. She sat at the edge of it, elbows placed on both knees as she clasped her hands at the front. 

“How are we feeling?” She asked, sniffling once more as she looked you directly in the eyes. “A little better now that we have our box?”

“Yes,” you nodded, wiping under your eye to rid yourself of any tears. “The box idea is genius.”

“The technical term is containment. Again, it’s simply where the client creates a space to store the distressing memories. I want to emphasize that the memories aren’t coming back to control you, rather you’re the one controlling them. And, the box’s containment of the unpleasant memories gives you a little extra control over these memories and the emotions attached to them. They’re yours to deal with,” she explained softly. “You done with the notebook and pens?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded eagerly, handing the materials back to her. You went over her words in your head, extra control. . . the idea of that sounded wonderful to you. Those words aided in lifting a decent amount of weight from your nervous body. 

She took the materials from you, and as she did so, you decided to take the paddles in your hands once more, feeling much more confident. 

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, rolling back in her tufted chair to put the markers and pencils back on the desk. “I definitely can’t take credit for the idea of containing those horrendous memories in a certain area. . . but it has proven wonderfully effective for every client I’ve practiced this form of therapy with,” she explained further, coming back to sit in front of you, wheeling smoothly back towards you. When she was about two feet away from you, she stopped and observed the picture of your box, the notepad still in her lap. “Do you have a clear idea of the box in your mind?”

“The clearest,” you affirmed, no question in your mind of the precise placement of each piece of lavender. The exact color of mahogany that you’d depicted for the wood, sealed in your brain. 

“Wonderful. Well, I’m going to hold it so I can get a good idea of it; just in case you need help finding it at any point,” she said, eyes scanning the page as she spoke. “I’d love to see this in real life – it’s gorgeous.”

“I think so, too,” you grinned, eyes twinkling. And, suddenly, your body felt light in a way that could only indicate one thing. . . you knew there was no time like the present. “I’m ready.” 

Gia looked up at your words, her own eyes donning a spark as she tucked the notepad onto her lap. “If you’re ready, I’m ready,” she smiled kindly, her eyes trustworthy and open for opportunity. “First things first. Make yourself as comfortable as you need to. Sit, lay down. . . it’s up to you.”

You kept yourself upright on the couch, allowing yourself to sink back into its cushions a bit more. And for some reason, the thought of crossing your legs, criss-cross applesauce came to mind. So, you did just that, bringing your legs up to the couch and criss-crossing one over the other. You looked at your belly as you did. A timid grin crept along your lips at the thought of knowing you didn't have much longer until you’d no longer be able to do this. 

Thank you, sweet baby.

With one deep breath in, you felt your stiff limbs loosen with the comfort of the new position you found yourself in. And with the exhale, you looked down at the paddles in your hands, holding them probably a bit too tight as you felt your nails digging into your clammy palms. Still yet, you kept your grip, somehow feeling a bit more secure that way. 

“Nice and comfy?” Gia asked, her warm, knowing smile aiding in relaxing your body even more. 

You looked down at your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the cool plastic of the paddles. You knew this was it, that this could begin to change a lot; it could change everything. The thought of change was a frightening one, but with this change would come a healing journey like you’d never known. For you, for the baby, for  Jake, even. . .

“As I’ll ever be,” you confidently answered. You were ready to embark on this expedition of mending. 

“Perfect,” she said, her voice soft, reassuring. “Close your eyes, take a few deep breaths. Let yourself relax.”

You did as she said, and with one breath in through your nose and blowing it slowly out of your mouth, you closed your eyes. 

You felt your chest rise and fall with each breath. You began to breathe deeper and easier the longer your eyes were closed. 

“Good job.” You heard her sweet voice, feeling comforted by the simple fact that you knew she was still with you. Though you could no longer see her, you felt her. And that was more than enough. “I’ll start the paddles off slowly, just like last time. Turning them on in 3, 2. . .” 

Your body instinctively jolted at the light humming sensation you felt against your palms, your eyes closing a little tighter. But, you quickly remembered the feeling from last time and it didn’t take you very long to get used to it. You even found a little relief in the alternating vibrations. Their consistent rhythm worked to ease your mind. Your eyes, though still closed, instinctively followed in the back and forth motion of the pulsations in your palms. 

“Does this speed feel okay?” You heard her ask, her voice suddenly becoming more distant as you let yourself focus on the steady thrumming of the paddles. 

“Yes,” you whispered, the sound of your voice echoing as though you were in a long, narrow tunnel. “Feels good.” 

“We’ll start with establishing your safe place, y/n. Go ahead and start walking to it. Lead the way.” 

My safe place. 

Suddenly, as though the mere mention of it had  some sort of ability to transcend you there, you began feeling the familiar cool breeze against your face. Faint sounds of the birds singing in the forest of trees filled your ears, becoming a bit louder as you found your footing against the lightly dampened grass beneath your feet. “The birds,” you felt yourself say. “They’re singing, their chirps are becoming clearer now.” 

“Wonderful.” Her voice was heard all around you, echoing against the wind. “Tell me what you see.” 

Your eyes, still physically shut, began to open in your mind. They squinted at the bright, warm rays from the sun. And as you turned your face upwards toward the sky, you could feel the radiance of the rays against your skin. 

And, as you peered a few feet ahead of you, you witnessed a beautiful family of deer were perusing the lush meadow. 

“The sun. . . It’s so beautiful and bright, but it doesn’t hurt to look at it,” you shared with her, squinting towards it with no negative effect, shocked by the fact. “And the deer. So innocent and pure. They’re so near to me, but not scared of me at all.”

“You’re doing amazing, y/n. Keep going, tell me what you can touch, what you can smell.” Her voice carried throughout the trees like the wind, meshing beautifully with the songs of the birds. 

Bending down, you ran your fingers through the dewy blades of grass. They felt cool, soft. Like a blanket of emerald velvet. “The grass. It’s soft, a little wet.”

And then, the smells. The fragrance of freshly rain coated grass, as though an evening shower had just finished nourishing the ground before you’d arrived. The rainfall, sustaining the life of the pasture, the jude green grasses, the illustrious amethyst plant surrounding you. . . 

The divine aroma from your favored flower overwhelmed your senses in the most alluring way. The bloomed field, surrounding you, holding you carefully in its gentle grasp. 

“The lavender,” you felt yourself say, eagerly. “I can smell it, so fresh and clean; the sense of calm it brings me. . .” 

You then felt the paddles pick up in their speed, ever so slightly, but enough that you could tell.

“Oh yes, your lavender,” Gia hushed as she positively tracked with you. 

My lavender. 

Gently, you sat your body down in the midst of the flowers. And once you did, you felt the urge to place your hands against your tummy, to feel the baby, just like last time. 

There you are, right where you belong, you thought when you felt the smooth bump beneath your hands. 

You felt nearly complete, nearly, but you knew something was still missing—someone. 

And just when you started to look beyond the stems of lavender to find him, there he was. 

Clad in the very same navy blue, three piece suit you’d seen him in the first time. The rays from the sun bounced off of his chestnut locks, his tanned skin radiant and glowing. 

With a soft, lopsided smile, he slowly walked toward you. The vision of him, walking amongst the stalks of lavender as they gently swayed from the light breeze against his calves. . . You felt yourself sigh with relief. 

This was safe. This was home. 

Once he approached you in what felt like no time at all, he laid down right beside you, extending one arm out for you to join him. And as you did, letting yourself at last melt into his warm embrace, you were finally there. 

Your safest place.

“I’m here now,” you muttered, feeling yourself smile warmly as you did. “And I’m safe.” 

“Enjoy it for a moment, let it sink in, put yourself at ease.” You heard Gia’s voice, but the more you focused on Jake, the more distant she became. 

You found yourself gazing into his eyes, sparkling like golden gems, as he cradled you in the crook of his arm. 

In his amber-brown eyes, you saw your haven, your sanctuary of serenity. 

A gentle smile graced his lips as he reached up, tenderly brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. “It’s time to step away now, y/n,” he told you. Though, you knew it was truthfully Gia telling you, you heard Jake’s voice. You watched his lips move as he spoke, “You can do this. I’m right here.” 

Again, you knew the words were coming from Gia. But, hearing them in his voice, as much as you didn’t want to leave him, it was the final push you needed. 

It was time. 

With only a bit of resistance, you sat up, slowly standing to your feet and urged yourself forward towards the unknown. When you looked back, you saw Jake standing gracefully amongst the fragrant blooms of your lavender. 

Home, you thought. He looks like home. 

With one final sigh, and with the most strength you were sure you’d ever mustered, you walked away from him. 

Your hands found your belly for some extra courage as you stepped away, everything turning black for a moment once you got far enough. But, the further you went, a tiny, dim light caught your attention. It initially seemed like miles away, but with every step you took, it became worlds closer. 

A lamp. You could finally see it. It was old, dusty. It was sitting atop a table, from what you could tell. . . 

With one more step, the full picture started to come to you. You’d guessed right — it sat on top of a round, wooden table that only had one leg in the center, making it lean a little to the left. The white, canvas lampshade was stained so badly. . . 

The stains were reminiscent of those that come from years of smoking cigarettes near it. 

In fact, you were shocked that you could tell it had ever been white. 

As the image became more clear, you saw a black ash tray next to the lamp, full of cigarette butts, all but confirming your cigarette theory. You could smell the smoke, too, as though someone had just finished one off. The stench was putrid, the chemically treated tobacco mixed disgustingly with the other trash laying on the table. 

To the right, you saw a sofa. The blue cloth over the cushions, stained just like the lamp, was tattered and worn. It was full of holes. Tiny, black holes. Cigarette burns?

God, the smell was nearly becoming too much. It was so strong, potent. Cigarettes and filth. Utter filth. Filth that you suddenly began to remember being suffocated by as a child.  

No wonder you liked things so pristinely clean. . .

The shag carpet beneath your feet felt like it had never been vacuumed after years of wear. It was littered with half empty beer cans, more cigarette butts, rat droppings. . .

God — the fucking smell. A triggering smell—one that had your stomach turning to the point that vomit rose in your throat. 

The paddles sped up a bit more, much more noticeably this time as they forced your brain to grasp what you were experiencing. 

“Tell me what you see, y/n. Tell me where you are.” It was no longer Jake’s voice that you were hearing, it was once again Gia’s. And though you missed the sound of his, you were so happy to hear her, reminding you that she was still there. 

This was the past. Gia was the present. You were with Gia.

You stepped to the side, glancing around the room you were standing in, trying with all of your might to not allow the stench to make you sick. 

“It’s—I’m in a living room, I think. . .?” You noticed a television set, one from the late nineties with a built-in VCR, sitting on top of a makeshift table made of three small slabs of particle board. 

The more you looked around, you noticed there was only one average-sized window in the whole room, next to the white front door. The door was scuffed to hell and looked ready to give at any second. The blinds attached to the window were ripped to shreds, hardly hanging onto the frame. 

“Y-yeah, it’s a living room. It’s. . .It was our living room. One of them, at least. I’m fully beginning to. . . To recognize it. . .”

You’d lived in so many homes as a child, seen many living rooms. But this one, this home and the walls surrounding you. . .this one was different. While most homes from your childhood didn’t leave you with happy memories, this one felt—evil. This had been a personal hell.

Anxiety, heavy sadness. . . this room was wrought with it.

And as you heard a certain laugh, deep and throaty, from the next room over, your stomach churned and your mind went fuzzy. That sound. It was vile and thick with too many years of smoking. That particular laugh was associated with ugliness and gut-wrenching fear. 

The man that the laugh was attached to. . . This was his house. You remembered that now. There was no safety here. This place was only associated with feeling powerless, forgotten, and lonely. 

The paddles wiggled in your hands, the vibrations reaching your worn nerves.

Elsie was here, though. Somewhere. You knew that. 

And Elsie had helped in making it less lonely — just knowing she was in this past-tense moment filled you with ease. Your sister was here. 

Though, you knew for past Elsie, she was still trapped. Even though she comforted this adult version of you that was invading. . . there was still no escape for little girl Elsie. 

This place had been desolate, with no chance for escape. You’d been tied here by invisible rope.

Fuck. Where was your sister? You could feel her near, but she wasn’t in the living room with you. Your skin prickled at what she could be experiencing. . . You couldn’t fully wrap your brain around it. 

But this was the past. Right now, you just needed to focus on your surroundings.

Living room. The living room. 

Your mind was quickly skirting back to your present placement. And, rather than standing, you suddenly realized you were sitting on the ground. Strangely, your hands in the memory were free of the paddles, tucked safely in your lap, shaking. . . And not daring to touch the dirty, shaggy carpet. 

For a split second, you wondered. . . Why were you not sitting on the couch or a chair? And why were you sitting in a place you felt you couldn’t move from? Was this how you’d been placed originally? In the past? 

You observed the wobbly dinner table in front of you and realized it had zero chairs. And on a second glance around the room, you noticed something you hadn’t before. . . a sleeping form on the couch. 

So, it seemed, with the occupied couch being the only other piece of furniture in the living room besides the table. . . the floor had been your only option. 

You used the unconscious state of the room’s other occupant to your advantage and turned a bit to observe the person. The person’s face wasn’t visible and their body was covered in a blanket filled with holes and torn more than it wasn’t. But. . . You could see hair. 

Blonde. Yellow-blonde. Box-dyed with the cheapest dye. 

Long hair, ratty and knotted to the point of almost no fixing it. The way the strands shone a little bit under the dim lighting from the old, dusty lamp showed you it was very oily as well. . . It wasn’t a healthy shine. 

The person on the couch, from what you could see, was far from healthy in any capacity. The body looked malnourished through the blanket’s holes. At closer inspection, you noticed an arm dangling off the sofa, peeking from the blanket. 

The arm was littered in tiny holes and scars. . . from heroin injections, multiple cigarette burns. . . Then there was the red, irritated acne that littered the pale skin, between the various marks. 

Poor thing. What a dreaded way to live life. . . Your heart broke in your chest and tears sprung to your tired eyes as your hand clutched at your tummy. 

You could do that in the memory. You were you in the present, yet placed like you’d been in the past. . . so weird.

All you knew was you had a sense to protect the untouched life in your womb. The feeling of being a protector to your child was unparalleled to anything in this moment. . . You would never let the little life inside of you bear witness to anything like you had as a child. . .

Like your current situation. 

Or, past situation, rather. . . This was not real. Not in the present. This was controlled — controllable.

The paddles jolted in your real hands, helping you to center you.

“Y/n,” Gia’s voice broke through your psyche, touching your brain delicately. You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of her soft spoken tone. “Can you hear me, girly?”

You nodded, but weren’t sure if she could see it or if the action was only visible in your dreamlike stupor. This was so weird. . . 

So, you decided to respond the best you could with words. “Y—yeah,” you stuttered out, blinking rapidly as you tried (and failed) to keep tears at bay. “This is. . . So familiar, yet so forgotten. . .,” your voice faded out. 

Your eyes in the memory were now pinched shut, trying to keep the laughter you could still hear from the kitchen (because, yes, you somehow knew exactly where it was coming from) far away. 

But it just seemed to be getting closer. . .

“Tell me where you are, y/n,” Gia requested, soothing, yet strong. “Take me with you. You are going to be okay.”

“I—I can’t—,” gasping, you shook your head. 

Willing the menacing, thick chuckle to fade, you squinted your eyes open slowly, tried to refocus on the living room to tell Gia what you could. Your hands still held your belly, but your thighs came closer to your chest. You wanted to scrunch up and stay in your bubble. 

“Y/n.”

Your blood ran cold and your skin prickled harshly with goosebumps. Fear. Terror. Dread.

The voice wasn’t Gia’s. It wasn’t Jake’s. No. It was coming from behind you. The person on the couch. The worn down, baby blue fabric couch. The navy blue patterns of it, a distant memory, washing back quickly like a flood. . . 

This was definitely a memory. A real thing that had happened in the past. This had happened before. It was deeply repressed. 

A dark memory. Bad. So, so bad.

You felt dirty for more reasons than one now. . . 

Looking down, you noticed your outfit had changed. Though you still looked as you currently did in 2022, you were wearing an outfit you had as a child. The attire made your skin crawl. 

This pajama set, you were made to wear it more often than not.

A tiny, satin set. Too small for you to properly fit into. How old were you? Nine? Ten? Was this right before you went to live with. . .?

“Pig.”

No. Not that nickname. No no no.

You hadn’t heard that since your mother had called you–.

The person on the couch.

“Piggy.”

Did you have it in yourself to face her? Could you? What would happen if you didn’t? No. No.

You had to. The baby, safe in your belly. . . that baby needed a mom who could face her demons and not fall to them. 

. . .Fall to them like the shell of a woman, on the couch behind you, had fallen to hers. 

You felt crippled with fear, but brave beyond comparison all at once. . .

The steady tremors from the paddles in your hands were the best help you could’ve had in the moment, reminding you of your power. . .

And, once you’d given yourself the strength to swivel your body to meet her eyes. . . there she was. 

A woman whose face had become a shadow since she’d left you. The moment she’d left you. . .a mess of snot and tears, head throbbing as it laid on Elsie’s shoulder, desperate to understand a mother that had never seemed to love you. 

Your eyes were her eyes. Thankfully, that was about where the similarities in your features stopped. 

She was paler than you. Her lips, thin and cracked from lack of hydration where yours were full. Her cheekbones were sharp and protruded more than they should. . . Your cheekbones, defined, yet concealed under soft skin you took very good care of . . . 

And her face. . . It also lacked freckles. You had the tiniest spatter of light freckles that sat at the tops of your cheeks. Your freckles, mimicking angel kisses, which stayed mostly hidden save for the summertime when they’d make an appearance after exposure from the sun. Her skin was washed out, lacking color. It was as if she hadn’t even been exposed to the sun for a long, long time. . .

Perhaps you might’ve looked more like her than you could tell at this moment. But, right now, all you saw was a sunken face, holding more wrinkles and lines than a woman her age should hone. And, her eyes,  even if they looked like yours initially, were glassy and hollow from too many drugs. . . 

Right now, they held uncertainty and a rage that was becoming more and more apparent the longer you looked into her eyes. . .

She looked lost. . . Confused, yet furious. 

The fury, pointed towards you. 

“Get. Up,” your mother ordered, voice cracking a bit, spit flying past her chapped lips. The tone of her voice. . . it made your heart jump into your throat. “Do your job, Pig.”

Before you could respond, you felt heavy footsteps make their way into the living room, shaking the weak structure of the small home that seemed to be falling apart around you. 

“Move, you lazy drug slut,” a booming voice growled. You knew it was aimed towards your mother. “Give little Piggy some space to sit next to Mr. Morgan, hm?”

Mr. Morgan.

The paddles buzzed in your hands, re-centering you. 

You didn’t dare look at the man who’d entered the room behind you, knowing it was the same man attached to the laughter from the kitchen. 

So, it was only out of your peripheral vision when you noticed him round to the other side of you, getting close to your mom. The next thing you saw, faded from the corner of your eye, were fat, sausage-like fingers reaching to yank the thin blanket off your mother. The unmasked view of her figure broke your heart further, her body shaking, bones on full display through her papery skin, begging for a fix. . . 

It didn’t take long for those same fingers to forcefully clutch her shoulder and yank her up. You could’ve sworn you heard the bones in her shoulder crack, but she barely let out a yelp. It was more of a tired groan, eyes closed and eyebrows drawn in with irritation towards being disturbed. 

But, she shook more. . . Her bones, most likely rattling under her skin. And this time, you knew it was more from nerves and terror, than lack of drugs. She was just trying to play tough.

Mr. Morgan (the name, making bile rise in your throat) came to sit at the end of the couch, but your eyes once again drew shut and your body became rigid. Even if you were facing the couch, you still only kept your body towards your mother’s. She wasn’t safe, by any means. But she wasn’t Mr. Morgan. 

You couldn’t look at him. The vile smell of him alone, sweat and grime from lack of showering. . . You were going to hurl on the spot. The way the nausea quickly began to rise in the hollow of your throat, you knew there was no time to get out now. . . Your heartbeat was thrumming so vigorously in your chest, you felt like you were going to choke on its strength.

Then the ugly, bitter laughter was back again. . . Right in front of you this time, your mother moaning next to him. . .

A distant beeping in the background. . . what? Where was that coming–?

The intensity of the paddles increased, the vibrations working to balance you amidst the fear.

“Open your eyes, Pig,” Mr. Morgan grunted, reprimanding you. His voice was stark and loud against the decaying walls of the living room. You winced with what you imagined to come, your heart accelerating and your blood running colder than cold. “Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes, my little whor–.”

The paddles were working so hard to bring you back, but you couldn’t–.

“Y/n.” Gia’s voice rang out through the disgusting home, flowing into your ears, reassuring you. “It’s time to leave, y/n. Find your safe place.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, not with the tears streaming down your face and the way your breath was stuck in your lungs. Your chest stung from the way your heart rate wouldn’t let up. . . the way your heart raced, unrelenting and beating harder every time. . . . The pain was excruciating, making you want to keel over from the intensity. 

There wasn’t a memory of leaving the room, you just knew you had left as you ran. 

You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, eyes still shut to avoid being used by him–Mr. Morgan. God. You hated that man. You hated your mother. 

But, you weren’t with them anymore. The rotting smell of the home and the body odor that reeked from the two people in your vision – it was all gone. You were out. So, you decided to open your eyes. You had to open them to find the place you’d created for a time just like this. . . 

Your place. Your home. The field of lavender. Jake. Peaceful serenity, awaiting you amongst the birds chirping and the light blue skies. . .

So, with eyes open and tears streaming down your cheeks, you decided you needed to be there now. Now now now now. . .

And before you could request it any further, your feet were touching the lush grass and the skies were clear and powdery blue above you. . .

“Are you safe, y/n?” Gia asked, her voice much clearer when you were in the field, surrounded by nature. Your sanctuary. 

“Yes,” you breathed, voice cracking just a little on the word. You hadn’t spoken for a while. . . Too scared to do so. Clearing your throat, you tried once more. “Yes. Yes, I’m safe. I’m in my safe place. The lavender. The beautiful, tall trees filled with green leaves. The breeze is perfectly warm against my face. . .”

“Wonderful,” Gia said, sounding relieved and stoic all at once. “You are okay, girly. You are okay. It’s not your current reality. It’s not right now. This is right now. You are safe.”

Yes. I’m safe. 

Your breathing was coming much easier and your heart wasn’t pounding in your ears any longer. 

Your hands found your belly, the sweetest little round bump.  But where was. . .?

Then, you felt him. Jake. 

Solid and sure behind you, his chest meeting your back. His arms, coming to wrap around you, cradling you and the belly that held his baby. Your head, falling of its own accord to lay back on his shoulder. . . 

You were finally able to relax. Let go. The tears poured from your eyes, wetting your cheeks with steady tracks.

“Shhh,” Jake shushed you, the minty smell of his toothpaste lingering on his breath as it washed over your features. The sandalwood-vanilla of his cologne was reminiscent of heaven, you were sure of it. “It’s okay, baby.”

He swayed you a little, your eyes falling closed in peaceful surrender to him and this moment. . .

“Y/n, I want you to think of your box,” you heard the words, knowing it was Gia. But, you felt Jake saying it. Even if she was the one saying the words, you wanted him to help guide you, too. Your mind was a funny place. 

His voice kept soothing you, “Think of the box and open it. Open it and place the memory you stepped into today inside of it. Secure that memory inside of the box.”

So, with one fleeting glance at the disgusting past you’d had to re-experience today, you mentally opened the lid to the box. And, as the lid opened, you let the people and the stingy place flow quickly into the sturdy wooden structure of the box. 

You could have spit on the people and the place and the smells. . . Fuck it all. 

The sureness of the box truly calmed you as the last little bit of the memory faded into the box. 

“Tuck it away in your box. Just keep it there until you’re ready to revisit it again. . .,” Gia counseled, her words yet again came through as if Jake were saying them. His breath was warm against the column of your throat, lips near to your ear. “You have control of it, y/n.”

Once you knew it was all inside, you let the lid click shut. The little pieces of lavender you imagined to be skillfully painted atop the box assured you that it would all be over soon. 

Beep beep beep beep. The beeping again. Familiar. You’d heard it momentarily at the disgusting, decrepit house. What was it?

“Y/n,” you heard Gia again, her words no longer masked by Jake’s voice. “Are you ready to come back to the office?”

As much as you wanted to never leave the man who still held you, you knew that the sooner you left the safe place, the sooner you could actually see him. He was waiting for you. In the lobby. In the present. 

“Yeah,” you sighed with a sniffle, most of your tears dry after the safety you’d felt in the field of lavender. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

“I’m right here with you,” Gia assured you, her voice the closest it had been since initially closing your eyes. 

You closed your eyes once more, your body feeling lighter. Letting yourself sink into real time, you felt the soft, camel leather of the couch under you, around you. Then came the smell of Gia’s essential oils, filtering in through your senses. Things were okay. 

When your eyes cracked open, so tentative and slow, Gia was ready and waiting with open eyes. 

But the beeping. . . It was still happening — it was incessant. And it was fully apparent now that the sound was coming from your belt bag, hanging on Gia’s office door handle. 

Your heart monitor. 

Shit.

“How long has that been going off?” You blanched, eyes bugged as you got off the couch to grab your bag from the handle. Though, your legs were weaker than you expected, body worn down. It forced you to sit back down to gain your wherewithal.

Noticing this, Gia stuck a hand out to get you to pause from trying again. “I will grab the bag,” she soothed. “You stay there. Give yourself time to adjust to the present time. You’ve been through it, babe.”

All you could do was nod and swallow thickly, your heart no longer beating hard enough to make the phone go off. But apparently it had accelerated at some point. . . 

And then you remembered. 

Mr. Morgan. He’d made your heart rate go ballistic. 

When he’d approached, commanded you to open your eyes, and almost called you that horrible name. . . it had gone insane. 

Your chest had been in so much pain, and you could remember hearing the incessant beeping, now. . .

“Fuck, Gia,” you combed a hand through your hair. “My heart . . . I remember. . . my chest was hurting like a bitch.”

Gia inhaled deeply. “Yeah. . . You know, how about I hold the phone that tracks it from here on out? To keep an eye on your heart rate?” She suggested, raising a brow as she walked back to you with the belt bag. Raising a brow, she eyed you as she got close enough to hand your belongings over to you. “We need to be aware of your health and the baby’s first and foremost, before anything else.”

You swallowed with a slight nod, not wanting to see where your heart had skyrocketed to. But you knew you had to see it. So, you unzipped your bag and shakily got your monitor phone out.

When you slid the screen open to check, your breath caught in your throat. Tears welled in your eyes at the very large number, flashing at you in red. 

Shit. 185. What the fuck?

That could have gotten really bad, really fast if Gia hadn’t stopped you when she did.

“So. . . What had it gotten to?” Gia questioned carefully, wide eyes serious and ready to help. 

You observed her for a second, not wanting to divulge just how high it had gotten for one reason in specific. . . The fear that Gia would make you stop EMDR if she knew just how high it had gotten — that possibility kept your lips sealed.

“Girly, I really feel it’s incredibly important that we keep track of that. I didn’t want to be invasive while you were under, but I heard it and I knew what it was. . .,” Gia tried to counsel you, taking your skeptical gaze as you finding her invasive. “I really didn’t like not knowing what your heart rate was. It’s best we stay aware of that. We have to be so careful of that, girly.”

You wanted to tell her. Duh. Why wouldn’t you want to? You told her everything else. . . The possibility of not being able to—.

“We will still continue our EMDR, y/n,” Gia grinned warmly with a wink. “I know that’s what you’re worried about. . .”

Your mouth puckered, as you took in a deep breath, gawking at the tall blonde across from you. 

You couldn’t help the bubble of a laugh that spurted from your lips, in spite of your worried thoughts. You were in awe of your therapist’s intuition. “How did you know?” You questioned, already mostly knowing the answer.

The answer was: people in this profession were really very incredible. . . And Gia — she, in particular, was so empathetic and so aware of everything that mattered to you. . .

“It’s my job to tune in to that shit,” she grinned, sitting back in her rolling chair, one leg crossed over the other. 

After sharing a smirk with her, you decided you might as well tell her. You were nearing the end of your time, and you assumed she still wanted to be filled in on what had happened during your time under. 

“My BPM was. . . in the 180s,” you divulged, wary of her reaction. “That’s um—that’s really high,” you tagged on to the end, blowing out a breath, still shocked at the number yourself.

“Ho-ly fuck,” Gia stated, eyes wide and mouth in a straight line as she shook her head. “No shit that’s high.”

“We’ll figure it out?” you stated the question, hoping it would be ammunition for Gia to agree. 

“Of course,” she nodded adamantly. Sitting up in her chair, she leaned forward. Her elbows, on the ends of her thighs, near her knee caps. “When do you turn it in? How long do we have with it?”

“I turn it in next week,” you answered, curious where she was going. “Hopefully I’ll get some results and sure answers. . .” Trailing off, you decided to shut up so she could get to her point. 

“Well. . .,” she started, rubbing her palms together, eyes glancing down and back to you, “Would you be opposed to me attaching another monitor to you during our sessions? After that one is turned in?”

“That’s a great plan,” you answered, nodding with pursed lips. “Sounds safe.” Though, you paused. One more question. “And you’ll keep watch of it next time?”

“If that’s what you want from me, I’d love to be able to help you in that way,” she answered with a reassuring sureness in her tone. 

“I do want that,” you replied with a sheepish grin. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, girly,” Gia smiled, lopsided and full of ease. “We’ll make sure to get you through this therapy the safest we possibly can. Gotta protect you and that baby.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

After filling her in on everything from your EMDR vision, she’d given you a few more pieces of therapeutic wisdom and advice. Little things to follow if the memories came back with a vengeance. 

But, you’d gone more than five minutes over your session’s time at that point, pushing her other appointment back. 

So, you didn’t get long before the two of you had to bustle out. You’d been about eight minutes past session end time when you officially exited the small room, the session having just ended. 

A long fucking session.

Your body was extremely weighed down by fatigue and exhaustion. So, when you finally connected with Jake, you sunk happily into his warm, safe embrace. 

It seemed walking directly into Jake’s arms was exactly what your body longed for after leaving Gia’s office. You’d had little to no choice in where your body had guided you.

He had already been standing, waiting for you. His amber-brown eyes, wide open and full of readiness to help you. He’d seemed anxious to see you. You could tell as much by the tapping of his foot, the way he’d been worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, the wrinkle of his brows. . .

So, of course, as soon as you approached, his arms had widened to welcome you in. 

Surprisingly, you hadn’t cried when you met his arms. . . Honestly, it was probably because you’d exhausted your tear ducts during your session. And all that you felt now was pure numbness. You didn’t know how to feel – just knew that you were tired and needed someone to be close to.

And Jake was the person you wanted most. 

Once safe in his embrace, you didn’t have the mental energy to even think about how it would look to Gia – but you knew she’d understand. 

You felt Gia come up behind you, even halfway heard her introducing herself to Jake. 

And even though you were out of it, you still heard Jake respond kindly, hearing the smile in his voice. When he moved his hand to shake hers, you didn’t turn around, just kept your face tucked into his shoulder, one of his arms still tightly hugging you to him. The pressure was really nice – it really calmed you down to feel so secure with him. 

It felt like the field of lavender, but this was really real – and that made it inexplicably better. 

Thankfully since you’d quickly scheduled the next session in Gia’s office, you didn’t have to wait much longer to head home. You didn’t want to leave his embrace, but you ended up turning out of Jake’s arms to tell Gia goodbye. 

When you reached forward to give her a hug, she whispered calmly in your ear. “You’re safe. Everything is okay in the here and now. I’m proud of you, y/n. You are already making great strides.”

After telling her a quiet ‘thank you’, you turned to Jake. 

“I’m ready when you are,” he assured you, lips turned up in an easy grin. His eyes were soft in a way that showed you he really was ready to be whatever you needed him to be. 

You didn’t need to be told again. You were ready for food and sleep. So, after the two of you waved to Gia over your shoulders,  Jake let you lead him out, opening the door for you from behind. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you snapped out of your daze and found a bit of energy, you decided to divulge to Jake just how high your heart rate had gotten during the session.

You had expected him to be a little worried on your behalf, but he’d gotten. . . really, really worried. You’d go so far as to call it a minor anxiety attack. 

His eyes had bugged, face had paled, and his breathing had gotten choppy. . . All signs of some serious anxiety on his end. 

His care for the situation was apparent, that much was for certain. He’d babbled in a rush of words – voiced a lot of concern on your behalf and the baby’s. . . Well, that was what you could catch in his raspy, frenzied tone. You’d missed a few things as he’d rushed the words out.

It was really sweet how much he cared. You had to work to keep the tiny grin off your face in response to his obviously sincere regard for your health (and the baby’s). You’d kept your quiet smile at bay the best you could and calmly reassured him that you were wearing a heart monitor for a reason – so the doctors could track those weird things and get down to the root of why your heart sucked ass at times. 

You’d explained that medical professionals had started dealing with it the night at the emergency room and would continue once your monitor got sent in within the next couple of weeks.

“I know today’s already been a lot, but do you have it in you to explain more about that night?” Jake asked, his breathing evening out as he rounded the curb, out of the office parking lot. “The night you went to the emergency room?”

“Yeah, totally,” you readily agreed, jumping at the opportunity to not think about the muddled images still flashing in your mind from your session. “Where do you want me to start?” You wondered aloud, peeking at him as you picked with a loose string on the seam of your leggings.

He cleared his throat in the way that indicated he was a little nervous. “What triggered it, exactly? Had you been okay at the bar that night? Was it because of something that had happened there?”

“It wasn’t really because of anything that happened at the bar, no,” you shook your head, looking down at the string you were pulling at, giving it a good yank to do away with it. “And I was kind of okay that night. . . Same as I’d been every other day around the time,” you laughed humorlessly, not missing those days at all. 

But, you couldn’t help reflecting on the events at the bar. . . since he'd brought it up. That night, just thinking of it still gave you butterflies. . . The way he’d feasted his eyes on you as your song played. . .

Stay focused, y/n.

“Um— during those earlier days, I’d had several days where I’d been really fuckin’ dizzy. . . could hardly eat most days, always nauseous and puking. . .,” you crinkled your nose at the thought, shivering at the memories. 

After getting over the thought of the constant vomiting, you stopped your train of thought to consider the fainting. All of the factors. You were not sure what to blame in particular. Though, you remembered Dr. Stevens’ opinion. 

“Honestly, more than one factor triggered it. . . but. . .,” you drew in a breath, pinching your eyes shut at the worst part of the night. “I actually blacked out and fucking fainted,” you cracked one eye open to look over at him to gauge his reaction.

“You blacked— you what?!” His voice rose a little bit at the idea, the car swerving the slightest bit when he glanced at you.

“Focus on the road!” You shook your head, eyes now opened wide at his swerve. However, you did find his reaction a bit funny. “I’m fine now, Jake,” you reassured, reaching over to give his arm one squeeze. 

But quickly, you placed your hand back in your lap to avoid any sort of awkwardness. 

You offered him a smile as your hand moved, looking up at him from your twitching thumbs, just as he glanced down at you. 

His eyebrows were still knit with worry when he faced the road again. “You’re sure?”

“Mostly,” you answered, thinking of the heart monitor’s job, peering down briefly to where it stayed on your chest. “They’re tracking my heart rate to make totally sure. And I’ve even kept an eye on my hemoglobin — which is doing much better, too. Not that you care about that part—.”

“I care about it all,” Jake interrupted, his tone insistent enough to make you pause and look over at him. 

Let him care, y/n. He wants to. . . Don’t tell him what he cares about and what he doesn’t. . .

From under your lashes, you studied him. You were glad he was now stopped at a light, giving you a little time to share a look with him. His eyes were full of warmth. . . The deep brown of his irises, capturing you. His eyes held yours so tenderly, desperate for you to understand he meant what he said.

And you did understand. You understood that he truly cared for you. . . and that his patience for you was incredible. You just felt completely undeserving of the amount of chances he’d given you after you’d hurt him so badly. 

The look in his eyes had you trapped, completely enamored by all of him. . . Your heart beat was pulsing in your ears, helping you to feel light as a feather under his stare. 

But, when a car honked to let you both know the light had turned green, it jolted you both, effectively tearing your focus from the other. He was driving again and you were back to looking through the windshield to continue your story. 

You cleared your throat to break up the air.

“We um— we checked all the boxes, you could say. The doctor was sure to put measures in place to keep an eye on all of the things that could have been a major issue to trigger that,” you spoke confidently, to give him affirmation that things were okay. “So, yes, I’m sure I’m fine now and I’m going to be fine in the future.”

Out of selfish desire, you let your line of sight float back to him. Yet again. It was just so easy to sit and admire his natural beauty. . .

Jake sucked in a breath, so deep from his chest. You could tell he was considering your words, one brow still arched in contemplation. 

“Okay,” he sighed his response, relief evident in his looser posture. He eased up his grip on the wheel, leaning back in the seat. You tried not to watch the way his jeans stretched over his lap. “So,” he started, “is there anything else you found out that night? A big, prevailing reason you quite literally blacked out?”

“The doctor I spoke to thinks it’s because of this underlying condition I most likely have — called POTS.”

“POTS?” He asked, his tone curious. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.”

“It’s just a blood circulation disorder. I think I’ve had it nearly all my life. But it can be brought on by stress and cause things like fainting. . .,” you trailed off, glancing down at your belly. “Which I was obviously feeling a lot of with the baby. I mean, talk about massive life change,” you smirked, rubbing the bump that was more and more noticeable every day. 

“And I was the only one who knew this giant thing for a bit. . . then only Elsie knew. And, yeah, when Josh found out, I was feeling a little better. Felt lighter. . .,” you paused, your next words, being important to you. “But I still wanted to tell you most,” your lips lifted in spite of yourself. “But, we weren’t really talking because of all the shit that happened between u–.”

You stopped yourself at that, though. Shit. Today didn’t really seem like the time to get into all of that. It had already been such a long day. 

The car stayed silent for a few beats. 

Once Jake started speaking again, your eyes found his handsome profile.

“Yeah. . .,” Jake offered in response to that, his jaw clenching. His eyes were dead-set on the road. The expression on his face, hard. Yet. . .it wasn’t angry. Not angry at all, just thoughtful. 

He seemed to be contemplating it all.

He proved you right with his next words, bringing you back. “I need you to know—I’m really fucking sorry for not being so present—for not noticing more. I wish I would’ve been more aware and been there for you. . . Shit, I should have noticed you weren’t eating normally and were constantly sick,” he rubbed his forehead once, jaw tight again as he spoke on the subject. “I was still just stuck in my own head over stuff — really hurt. I still am, I think. But, I also, more importantly, had no way of knowing that you were carrying my kid, so. . .,” he trailed off, clearing his throat. “So I didn’t watch too hard for things out of the ordinary — my mind was in other places.” 

Other places, your mind repeated, mocking you. Like Maya. . . 

Your stomach was still churning at the depressing thought of him having ignored you and still being hurt (albeit, you’d deserved it), when his voice echoed back through your train of thought. 

“I did notice you weren’t home that night, though. . . After dropping Maya off at her place, I got home and you weren’t there. I. . .,” he sniffed, running a nervous hand through his hair as he looked both ways to make a turn. “I panicked, noticed your chapstick and house key were on the ground outside — it made no fuckin’ sense. I called Josh to ask him where you were — assumed he’d know. And, he did. But he told me the bare fucking minimum. I didn’t even know you were at the emergency room. He just told me not to worry and cut me off with an ‘I love you’ before hanging up on me,” Jake rolled his eyes at the memory, fists gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Now I know it’s because you obviously really needed him. . . But at that point, I was so pissed. Obviously, you were in some sort of bind and there was nothing I could do to help since we were. . .,” he let his train of thought fade into nothing. Your mind was a frenzy of everything he was telling you, but you tuned back in when he began speaking again. “And then your heart monitor came in the mail. . . I didn’t even think about how they could be connected. I just knew the very little Josh had told me from that night and then I saw a damn heart monitor show up. . . I was just super fucking confused and terrified for you. . . I was trying my best to connect all of the dots.”

“Well. . .,” you started, not sure if you should say what you were thinking. But still, you did. “It wasn’t really any of your business at that point. I didn’t want to make you— it was just a lot to process for me and we. . .,” you trailed off, at a loss. Still so tired from the session. “I don’t know. . . I had reasons.”

“I know, y/n,” he responded, voice tight with masked emotion. 

You didn’t know what to say after that. Your eyes were trained on what was outside the passenger side window.

The air in the car was dense, slightly awkward on your end. 

It was strange how weird things could feel after a damn conversation when, just a week ago in this very car, you’d had him in your mouth. 

It was slightly embarrassing that a hard conversation topic was what it took to make both of you freeze up. But, somehow, you could still find the wherewithal to have your mouth on his. . . Mhm.

That was what you got for making sex such a giant thing before. . . now you’d made that easy and everything else fucking taboo. 

But the sex had just been too good to not make it something you did all the damn time. . . 

God, you missed sex with him. . . Him, inside of you, his hips going at a perfect pace. . .

Thanks to your motherfucking hormones, you were back in the living room floor with him. . . So often, you went back to that one rainy morning with Aretha Franklin on the turntable. . .

The look on his face when you fucked him, one of your favorite sights. That morning, just like always, he’d watched you so closely. . . Your face, your breasts, your ass, or your pussy that was wrapped around him, so tight. 

As he fucked you so slow and purposeful, a hand raising your leg to get a better angle, he hit a secret spot inside of you. Your toes had curled as you whined his name.

And just as his name fell from your lips, he’d scrunched his brows, and let his mouth fall open with certain movements of his hips. His jaw, clenched, when you’d flex around him or biting his lip when you’d let out a shaky breath. . . 

“Y/n?”

“Yes?” You shook your head of the fucking delicious scene in your memories. 

Now was not the time. 

To show respect, you did your best to wipe the picture and put your full attention on him. You glanced at him. He looked so beautiful under the natural light of the early evening and the streetlights. And his hair looked so healthy and long. . .

“I’m not upset or anything that you kept any of it from me,” he ventured to explain, your mind coming back to the topic at hand. “I need you to know that.”

“You’ve kind of already told me all of this before,” you started with a smile, eyeing the radio for a bit. 

Music. You needed music. 

You began to mess with the buttons, turned down the volume, and hooked your phone up to the aux. “I know you, Jake,” you continued with a sigh, scrolling your playlists, finding a song you were suddenly craving to hear. “I know you well enough to know you aren’t upset with me for keeping it all from you for a bit. You have a good heart.”

“You give me too much credit,” he humorously laughed. “I’m not always so sure about how good I am these days — kind of always doubted that about myself and right now is no different.”

At his words and sound of disbelief, you looked over at him with a wrinkle in your brow. His own eyebrows were set with an odd, unreadable emotion. You hadn’t clicked the song to play yet. This was too important to not address.

“Jacob,” you said sternly. His eyes stayed glued to the busier street. “I don’t give you ‘too much credit’.  I just see you and know you well – anyone who truly matters sees you for who you truly are. I, like all of them, love y— appreciate everything you are.” 

Shit. What was that that almost slipped from your lips?! Nothing. It was nothing. Ignore, ignore, ignore. . . 

You were just hormonal and emotional. 

You continued with intent to make your point known, doing your best to forget the slip-up. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes – we all have. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m not about to hold anything against you right now.”

Cracking a smile, you decided you wanted to throw in a bit of a joke. “I mean, I would have to hold it against you if you killed someone or some shit,” you giggled, his own raspy laugh joining you. 

But fuck, you couldn’t ignore that one emotion you were feeling. . .

It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. You didn’t know why the fuck you’d said that word of all words.

But this feeling. . . It was intense like love could be. It had your heart in your throat and your tummy tied in nervous knots. . . 

You’d felt a need to say the words. A need for him to know how much you. . . how much you. . . How much you what, exactly?!

This was going to drive you fucking nuts. 

So, to break the nonstop, crazy wave of thought, you played the song you felt like playing at the moment. 

The song was “In the Moment” by Snoh Aalegra, one of your favorite R&B goddesses. 

And, of course, the lyrics matched your heart. Perfectly. Oddly. Precisely. Music was your favorite language.

Do you mind if I try to come apologize to you?

'Cause I said some things that I realized wasn't true

You couldn’t stop your movements when your head slowly turned to look in his direction. His sunglasses were off due to the darker sky, so you could see every blink of his pretty eyes, long lashes touching the dark circles under his eyes with each blink. He watched the road carefully, maneuvered around cars with an ease that had you hoping he’d be around to drive you to the hospital on a certain day in May. . . 

Your heart swelled in your chest at his attention to the road. This particularly protective nature of his, as the driver, was new. . .

And I'm sorry for it 

I'm emotional 

This is your fault 

Please listen when I say 

I care about you

You tried to look away from him. Really, you did. It just couldn’t be helped. The way these lyrics kept pulling something from deep within your soul as you watched him drive. . .

But you still couldn’t figure out what was getting pulled in you, exactly. It felt weird, but only in a fulfilling way. . . Your heart ached, your head clouded with all things surrounding him. 

And then, just as he stopped at a red light, his eyes met yours. 

You had been caught red handed in your stare, but it didn’t seem to matter. Not to you, not to him. He smiled at you, the same, warm smile you knew all too well to be uniquely his. (And hopefully your baby’s.) 

The lyrics and melody of the song were adding to your already emotionally-tangled state. You just wanted to be with him always—hold him tight so he couldn’t leave. Never wanted him to leave.

Out of pure instinct, your hands found rest on your tummy, tucking underneath the bump. His smile only grew, stretching wide on his lips as his eyes followed the movement. Your heart did a little flip in your chest. 

This moment. . .

His foot let off the brake when the light turned green, pulling his eyes away from yours. The music coasting through the speakers said all the things you so desperately wanted to say. Though, Snoh sang them far more beautifully than you could ever say them yourself.

I was in the moment

I ain't really mean what I said to you

So put away your pride, baby

We can work it out if you want this, too

You hoped on every star in the winter sky that Jake was listening to the words, somehow feeling them as deeply as you were.

But if I could stay, I’d stay with you. . .

Your phone ringing snapped you out of your reverie and when you looked down to see who it was, you were not expecting the contact you saw. 

The OB office. 

Your heart started speeding up in your chest again, breath catching and nerves wracking your system at the most inopportune time. As you turned down the song to talk to the person on the other end, you contemplated why they were calling. . .

The appointment had already been rescheduled. . . So what else could be needed? Was something wrong?

You felt Jake’s palm splay across your thigh, fingers giving light, pulsing grips to the muscle through the fabric of your leggings. Skin heating at his touch, you looked up and over at him. 

“Who?” He whispered, quietly as he could. 

“OBGYN,” you mouthed back, clicking the green button to answer at the same time that he raised a brow in confusion.

“Hello?” You spoke into the phone, trying to keep your voice even-toned for whoever called you.

“Miss y/n?” Dr. Rose responded. Her Southern accent, friendly, on the other end, sounding happy as a lark. 

Hearing her sound okay helped your nerves ease up – weren’t quite as frayed as they had been to begin with. Jake’s hand was still on your leg, offering reassurance. But while his touch did comfort you, it also made your heart rate speed up and head swim for another reason entirely. 

Thankfully, considering the baby, your heart was slowing down. . . If Dr. Rose sounded fine, then surely things were fine, right? 

“Hi, Dr. Rose,” you said, voice perking up just the slightest bit. Looking out the windshield, you focused on the pretty colors in the sky. All light pinks, oranges, and the prettiest periwinkle thanks to the winter evening’s premature setting sun. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, more than, Sweet Cakes! Just checkin’ in to see that Friday still works for ya,” she explained, her drawl not quite as thick the more she spoke. But it was still there and it made you feel warm inside for some reason. 

Admittedly, you knew it was partially due to the fact that she seemed to only be calling to confirm your appointment. According to Dr. Rose, everything was ‘more than’ alright. . . you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

“Yeah. It works for me,” you sighed, running a nervous hand through your hair, knee still bouncing with the unexpectedness of the phone call. “Let me check with Jake real quick. I’m with him right now,” you held your hand over the speaker, looking over to your handsome driver. He’d just made it onto a highway, but momentarily glanced down at you. You hushed your next question, not wanting to disturb Dr. Rose. “Does Friday still work for you? For the week 17 appointment?”

Jake’s face opened up at the question, his eyes brightening with a smile that lifted the corner of his mouth. “Of course,” he quietly responded. “I have the whole day blocked off just for that.”

Your stomach did somersaults at him being so excited for the appointment, but you still dipped your eyebrows in at him. “You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered back. “Take the whole day for it.”

Jake shook his head, and with a dimple in his cheek, he just looked back at the road. Didn’t even acknowledge what you said any further. 

You closed your eyes, a small smile on your lips at his desire to be fully available – it gave you butterflies. Back to the phone call at hand, you faced the windshield again to continue the call with your OB. “Dr. Rose?” 

“Yes ma’am,” she excitedly greeted back.

“It still works for us,” you said, the smile not fading from your lips. Us. You really, really loved the sound of that word coming off your tongue. “Are you sure you’re still okay doing the appointment before week 18? I know how you feel about all of that. . .”

You didn’t know why you were asking – shouldn’t have even said anything. The idea of putting it off any longer was not what you wanted, and you didn’t want to make Dr. Rose think you’d be okay with that. But, it was too late now. You’d already asked. 

“Oh, yes, babygirl. I’m the one that made ya wait past week 16! I felt bad, but I didn’t want ya to have any lull period,” she boomed on the other end, sounding so genuinely kind-hearted. It made your heart feel so full. “Completely fine with me – why I offered it to ya! I gotta admit, I’m a little excited to be findin’ out the gender a week earlier than normal. Ya know I never do that for my girls, but you’ve just seemed very special to me since the day you walked in. You’re a good seed in a bag ‘a bad ones, sweetie pie. So, I just had to make an exception.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Rose,” you gushed, a tear coming to the corner of your eye at her sentiment.

“I knew it would drive ya nuts havin’ to wait.”

“It would have,” you giggled, agreeing with a sniff to attempt to rid yourself of the tear. 

She laughed heartily on the other end. “You have a beautifully passionate heart, little miss y/n,” she remarked. “You’re goin’ to be a wonderful mama for it.” 

Aaand, there was no stopping the tear as it turned into a couple more, drifting down your cheek. 

Jake must have looked over at the perfect time, because as soon as the tears fell, he was squeezing your thigh once more. His hand had never left your body. 

But, you really needed him to stop holding you and caring because you were going to pounce on him. No questions asked. . .especially with the fluffy headspace you were in. 

Emotional over a phone call or not, your body reacted to him in ways you couldn’t stop.

“How’s your heart?” Dr. Rose was in your ear again, bringing you back. She was in no rush whatsoever. You were shocked that she seemed to want to keep the conversation going. Even after the first question, she continued with another. “I know ya filled me in on it a little bit last week on the phone, but any more updates?”

“Doing alright, I think,” you responded, sniffling at her eagerness to stay updated on your wellbeing. Was she just being a good doctor? Probably. But, still. It meant a lot to you. “I will send my monitor in on the 17th. I’m so ready to be done with it,” you replied with a huff of a laugh, looking down to mess with a loose string on your oversized jacket. “And I think everything else has gotten much better since that ER visit, too. Just keeping an eye on things,” you finished, happy to explain everything to her. 

This phone call was officially a highlight to your day now that you knew there was no reason to stress over it. Dr. Rose just made you feel good. You really enjoyed talking to the older Southern woman. Her heart shone through her personality. And, whether she made these efforts for all patients or not (you were sure she did), it just meant the world to you that she seemed to be so thoughtful. 

She seemed to take very seriously that it was a vulnerable time in any woman’s life. Dr. Rose just seemed to do very well at her job. You were grateful for her.

“When Mount Sinai sent over that information all those weeks ago, I gotta be honest, it stressed me for ya for a bit,” she said, voice suddenly thick with a sort of concerned emotion. Not worried anymore, you could tell that much. But, it was obvious she had been troubled by it when it initially happened, from the way she sounded now. 

“Although, when I read all of their tests on my end, I knew you’d be okay. Just a bump in the road, sweetie – it happens. You will be just fine!” She reassured you in her twang, the words made your head clear in a way you’d needed since the night at the hospital. “And, that sweet baby was doing so great still, in spite of it all. You’ve got a strong one, mama.”

Yeah, there was no stopping the onslaught of tears at those words. Your baby was strong. You were so proud. 

“Yeah?” You sniffed. “You think so?”

“I know so. That little one was movin’ and groovin’ already that first day. . . that sure doesn’t happen with every baby! He or she is very special – just like their mama,” she emphasized, sniffling on her own end of the phone. “Well. . . . as long as this Friday still works for you, I think I can let ya go, honey bun.”

“Yes, it does,” you confirmed once more, pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and patting your cheeks with it. “Thank you again.”

“No need to thank me, Sweet Cakes.” You could hear her smile through the phone, imagined her lips covered in the prettiest bright red matte lipstick. “You have a good nigh– oh! Before ya go. . . .”

“Yes?” you questioned curiously, eyebrow raising with a little grin on your lips. 

“You mentioned a Jake earlier. Does this Jake happen to be the baby’s daddy?”

You blushed, looking over at him. He glanced over at you at the same time, an eyebrow raising when you caught his eye. Your cheeks heated even more when you looked into his eyes. Your baby’s daddy. 

“He is the baby’s daddy, yeah,” you explained, continuing to watch him as you said the words. He had to keep his eye on the road, but you saw how his lips stretched, the smile showing his pride at the title.

“And he will be comin’?”

“He will be there,” you affirmed, your heart racing in your chest at the idea of him being there with you. It had you equal parts jittery and utterly overjoyed to have him be present at the appointments.

“Wonderful. Sounds like a good daddy already,” she gushed from her end of the phone. 

And when he came to the next light, much nearer to the complex, you watched him and waited until he looked over at you. When his eyes found yours, glowing amber-brown in the nearly-set sun, your heart squeezed inexplicably in your chest. 

“He is a really good daddy,” you answered, tears threatening to clog your throat. 

After you said the words, you watched his eyes become wet with an unnamed emotion. A wide, slightly shaky grin on his pretty lips. With the addition of a pink blush in his cheeks, you wanted to be able to read the exact way he was feeling. 

But. . . at the current moment he suddenly seemed impossible to read. There was something behind his eyes that seemed so familiar and so hazy all at once. . .

Or maybe you were just really, really tired.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I don’t have to go to this tonight,” Jake offered, pulling into the complex. 

You raised a brow, looking at him. As much as you wanted him to stay with you after today’s session, you knew that sleep was the first priority. He’d end up sitting around most of the night anyway.

If things were different, you would ask him to lay down with you. You’d keep him close. But. . . That wasn’t how things were for the two of you. 

You needed a nap and he needed to be with his girlfriend. As much as it sucked, she took priority over you. He wasn’t yours.

You already felt selfish enough for taking his entire early evening away from him. You didn’t want to steal any more of his night. 

“No, Jake,” you giggled, trying your best to play off the want to have him near. “I’m good. You’ve done everything you can for me tonight. Don’t need you for anything else — you’re free.”

It was silent for a little bit as Jake found his parking space. You were too tired to keep any sort of conversation going, preparing to doze against the window as he went to back into his space. 

Though, when he placed his hand on the headrest behind you to back in, you couldn’t help but turn to glance up at him. 

The way he held his bottom lip between his teeth as he focused on situating the Jeep into the parking space, just right. . . You felt guarded and protected by the placement of his arm above you. It made your tummy flip. 

And the mustache that kept making a reappearance on his pretty face, accentuating his plush lips perfectly. . . 

You licked your lips as you watched him, your eyes lazy as you let your stare wander down his body . . . 

But before you could get too far, Jake’s deep, raspy tone broke through to you.

“Hey.” 

Fuck. Your tiredness was quickly becoming enemy number one, exposing you.

Quickly, you flicked your eyes up to him, swallowing thickly, awaiting him with vulnerability clear on your features. 

For some reason, you expected to see him grinning at you being caught. But his features were unwaveringly straight, studying your face with his eyebrows drawn in concentration.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes soon finding yours to pierce through. Damn, you felt naked under his stare. No two ways about it. 

Your eyes sunk into his, wishing you were naked—.

“You’ve had a long day and I want to be available—.”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off, needing to get out of the car before you made a stupid move. You just needed rest; your tiredness was making you weak. 

“Please. Go have fun,” you encouraged further, looking down to observe your nails, desperate to be repainted. Shaking your head, you continued to solidify your point. “You’ve done enough for me. You have a girlfriend who’s expecting you to be with her tonight.”

And if you stay here tonight, there’s no telling what I’ll try to do with you. . . 

“‘Kay,” he responded. At his short tone, your eyes floated up to check on him. You watched as he quickly grabbed his keys out of the ignition, refusing to look at you until the last second. “I’ve gotta get going pretty soon then.”

“Yeah,” you breathed with a shake of your head, unsure of what else to say. And before he could get your door for you, you were doing it yourself — didn’t want to get in his way. 

Whatever this conversation had become, it was far too much for your brain to wrap around at this moment. 

You needed fucking sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

After you’d filled your Stanley and sat it on your bedside table, your next mission was to change into looser, cozier clothes. You stripped your pants and bra, and found a giant t-shirt. And your softest fuzzy socks had been a last minute must have before finding your bed. 

Finally.

Almost as soon as you landed on your bed, your eyes were fluttering closed. The softness of your sheets and duvet, the cleanliness and the comfort of your bed was too incredible for you to resist sleep for long. 

At the same time, Jake was getting ready for his time with Maya, and had apparently decided to shower. When the steady stream of water sounded through the wall, you relaxed even further. You focused on the soothing sound of the shower running and imagined how near he was to you. 

He hadn’t left you yet.

Admittedly, putting your mind on Jake going about his business made you feel quite at home. 

And that thought had been the seemingly final step to finding rest, sleep finding you quite easily with easy thoughts of your handsome roommate. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

But, to your disdain, the nap didn’t last as long as you’d hoped. 

After only a couple of hours, you’d woken up and couldn’t go back to sleep to get any more rest. You tried to fall asleep again. It was all you’d wanted after your emotionally exhausting day. 

The longer you laid in your bed and tried to find more sleep, you realized it was just not going to happen. The small apartment felt too big and empty and your mind raced with the scene you’d witnessed during EMDR. 

To your demise, the little wooden box had somehow cracked open a little while you slept. You figured it was because you’d dreamt of what you’d seen in therapy. Your subconscious was working without your complete consent. 

That man with the thick fingers and clenched fists. . . He’d come floating out of the box first as you laid underneath your fluffy, white, clean bed covers. . . 

Mr. Morgan. . . Who was he? You could not place his role in it all yet. . . While you were able to remember him and his living room now, that was about where it stopped. 

The smell of him had stuck with you most since the memory. The potentness of his body odor in your subconscious had been a severe trigger – a trigger to things you weren’t capable of remembering yet. 

But, you knew that whenever those things did get conjured up again, you wouldn’t be ready. You just knew. The feeling alone that came associated with him and seeing him again. . . made you feel grimy – made your skin crawl like bugs were living underneath your flesh. 

Then there was your mother. You hadn’t been able to recall the distinct features of her face for years. Your grandparents didn’t have pictures of her up in their home – only ones of you and Elsie through the years. It was like she hadn’t ever existed. 

But today? Today she was back. Full force. You felt her. You smelled her. You saw every. single. feature. 

The stringiness of your mom’s hair when she’d been with the man in the recollected vision. . . 

You couldn’t help but compare the hair in the vision to the fullness of it in small memories you cherished. . . There was a certain Christmas memory you kept close, her sweater had been brand new. Her hair, naturally brown and billowing out beautifully behind her. You had a few of those moments in time. A few decent memories you’d never let go completely away. No matter how much time passed or how foggy they became, you held onto them.

What struck you as disheartening was the way the woman transitioned from one version of herself to another in the fragments of time you could grasp. You remembered, it was rare to consistently witness the same mom growing up. You’d been forced at a young age to confront the fact that you never truly knew the woman that gave birth to you.

She’d been very dirty more times than not, you could remember that much now. From what you were beginning to recall, she rarely smelled good. Showers hadn’t seemed to be her forte from the grease that had been constantly caked in her hair if she wasn’t with your grandparents. Her skin had even been oily from her lack of showers, just as greasy as her hair. 

The houses she had you living in, too. . . you could vaguely picture a few of those (besides Mr. Morgan’s). The one you were in within your recollected memory today had been so filthy. The grossness of the environment was coming to you in small bits. There’d been times you’d seen families of cockroaches climb into the pantry. . . Or when an occasional rat would scurry across the stained carpet, right past your feet. . . 

You shivered in your bed at the thought, toes wiggling against your soft socks and covers. The loose sheet and duvet came closer to your chin as you tried to completely envelop yourself in your current reality. Things were safe.

It was just a-fucking-lot to process alone. And the last thing you wanted to do was burden anyone else with it. So, even if Jake had stayed with you rather than Maya after therapy, you knew you’d still be swirling in circles in your mind. 

You were just glad you only had to wait a week for therapy to continue digging through this with the help of your therapist. 

The images of the man and your mother kept flip-flopping in your mind, not leaving you alone — each taking turns in mocking your peace. It was enough that you felt your breath become choppy and your heart begin to race in your chest. Your clammy hands were clenching and unclenching over and over again, trying to find some sort of relief and distraction from the thoughts. The smells were coming back to you, vivid as they’d been during your therapy today. . . 

And the moment you began to hear that distant, haunting chuckle from your past, embedded in the new flashes of memory, you shut your eyes. You squeezed your lids together so tightly. Your fists came to cover your eyes, pushing down on them just a little to see stars alongside the black. 

Yet, the sound continued to get closer and closer to you. Desperately, you thought back on Gia’s advice should this happen. 

One of the small pieces of advice she’d given you, when the session’s time was five-minutes passed.  

“Now, if these things come back or more memories come to you and you would rather not think of them in the moment they do: take a break,” Gia had advised, going to hold your hands in hers between the two of you. “Take a break, wherever you are, and go to your safe place.”

She’d given you a couple of other things to try, but she’d stayed insistent that you try the safe place first. Every time. Get used to the place, make it a habit to run to it in these times. 

So, you tried your damnedest to shut the thoughts out like you would on her soft, camel leather couch. Your eyes closed as you tried, working to focus on the idea of traveling to a field of lavender and Jake. 

Though before you could get any further, your eyes snapped open, knowing you had one more step before you went there. 

You tried to even your breathing, unclenching your fists. Once you’d relaxed enough to loosen your hands, you searched for some meditation music on Spotify. 

And once you’d found a dreamy playlist, you laid back to feel it. Your goal: feel it enough to let go. 

This time when you closed your eyes, you did it with less force and breathed in and out, in and out. Once again, everything was black. . . but just for the first minute or so. 

It didn’t take long for you to hear the birds chirping and to feel the solid chest breathing beneath you. He breathed deeply – in and out, in and out, just as you did.

Almost as soon as you felt your body settle into him and the soft ground of the earth, you heard him speak, too. It was like you were hearing him through a rush of warm wind, a breeze drifting across your face. “You’re doing great, baby,” he soothed you in his velvety tone, running a sure hand through your hair, fingers tracing your scalp. You shivered, enjoying the wonderful feeling it gave you, all the way to the tips of your toes. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Further, you pushed into him, wanting to be as close to him as you could be. You wrapped your arms around him the best you could while laying down, needing to feel his body tightly against your own. When you did this, he wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you into him. Your round belly, pressed between the two of you, made your heart settle into a soothing thrum in your chest. 

No other words were said as you laid there, the sky blue when you finally opened your eyes to the new place. The field of lavender, so lucious and smelling heavenly around you. The purple flower surrounding you smelled clean, peaceful, and a lot like. . . love. It was a strange idea that a flower would smell like love, but you’d come to associate it with someone who–.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. 

Your eyes opened at a moment’s notice when you heard a knock on the front door. Somehow, the sound against the door managed to break you from your hypnotic-like reverie. The knocks weren’t small or soft thuds by any means, but it was odd that you’d heard them all the way through to your sacred place. All the way through your bedroom door. . . 

Though, thankfully, after having a bit of time to visit the safest place your mind could conjure up, you were on the path to feeling fine again. So after laying in bed for a few more seconds, you got up and padded to the door in your fluffy socks.

Before you opened the door, you peeked through the peephole. 

When you did, your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. Your breathing evened out significantly for the first time since waking from your nap. And without any hesitancy, you unlatched the chain and unlocked the knob and deadbolt. 

As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted by Jake, a very apologetic smile on his face. One of his hands covered his eyes in feigned embarrassment, making a slit in his fingers to look at you through them. His other hand was tucked in the front pocket of his black slacks. 

He’d changed clothes after dropping you off. 

Duh, he’d showered, y/n. He wouldn’t be wearing the same dirty clothes afterwards . . . 

He was now dressed very nicely, his hair looking so healthy and full. A few strands were still damp here and there, from the shower you’d heard him start as you’d fallen asleep for your nap.

And goddamn. He smelled so fucking delicious – you could’ve melted into him. 

Rather than focusing on the way the hints of sandalwood and vanilla in his cologne made you feel airy, you asked the question you couldn’t help but wonder. “Where is your key?” 

A hint of a laugh was present in your tone as you crossed your arms over your boobs – which you noticed were slightly less sore than normal. 

Pleasant surprise. 

Oh, fuck. Your boobs. No bra. Only wearing a giant t-shirt and fuzzy socks. The thong you were wearing was a poor excuse at covering your ass. 

Glancing down briefly, you were reassured by the length. It was long enough to fully cover your backside, went down your thighs a bit. . . but you still felt very bare. 

When you looked up, you found that Jake had noticed your lack of clothing at the same time as you. His stare burned through your t-shirt, all the way down to your blushing skin. Your chest was heaving of its own accord, nipples hardening at the attention from him. . . 

His gaze soon dropped down to your lips, his own parting as his tongue went to wet his mouth.

No. You had to be the responsible one here. You could do it. 

So, you forced a subtle short cough, toes wiggling in your fuzzy socks. And, thankfully, it brought him back to the current situation. 

His wide, brown eyes snapped to yours, staying there momentarily. It made your cheeks pink — the way he was unashamedly sharing this moment with you. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all as he bit his lip with a grin stretched over his lips. 

Fuck.

“Your key?” You tried again with a squeak. Rolling your eyes, your short cough was real this time as you had to clear your throat. Ridiculous.

Not saying anything, he responded like nothing had occurred before. He motioned with his head towards the kitchen bar behind you. Your head turned to follow his eyes. And, you found his keys, still laying on the counter, not having been touched since before he left. 

“Did Maya pick you up?” You asked him, arching a brow at the keys. 

“Yes.”

“How’d you get back?” Okay, y/n, now’s not the time for twenty questions. 

“Uber,” he simply answered, a little hiccup following the word.

“Well. . . did you come back for them to drive yourself?” You asked, turning back around to face him, hoping he wouldn’t say ‘yes’. You selfishly wanted him to stay. 

For the first time since you’d woken up, your body felt light. . . . And, you’d noticed it had happened the exact moment you saw him outside your door. 

Shaking his head, he finally looked at you head-on, and you could see his eyes were the slightest bit unfocused. 

Oh. . . A smirk rested on your lips as you crossed your arms once more.

He had a goofy, carefree smile on his lips. And then you smelled it — the slightest tinge of alcohol on him as he swayed a bit towards you. 

Raising a brow, your lips continued to match his grin. Giggling, you pondered aloud, “Did you have a drink or two, babe?” 

You didn’t say that last word. Nope. 

“Maaaaybe,” he said, shrugging with both hands in his pockets now, the silly smile still plastered to his lips. “It was a party, after all,” he tagged on to the end, a bit of a British lilt falling over his words. 

A party. Hm. For some reason, you hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility. Why did the fact that it’d been a party make your stomach turn a little bit? 

“A party?” You inquired, tucking your arms a little closer against your chest. And there was the tenderness again. 

“Maya’s baby sister— eight years younger than Maya,” he over-explained, tripping over himself a little as he made his way through the door without any warning. “Turned twenty one today.”

Oh, that explains the excessive drinking, you gathered mentally. 

But, as you stood there connecting the dots, you didn’t focus enough on the fact that he was falling into you through the door frame. Thankfully, you put your arms out in time to stop him from bumping into you to the point of knocking you over. But when you put your arms out to stop his fall, he got the wrong idea and put his arms out as well, crashing into you a bit as he wrapped them around you in a secure embrace. 

It took a bit for you to register what was happening as you stood in shock at the gentle gesture amidst his drunkenness. And while you were registering it all, he must’ve gotten the idea that you didn’t want him so close to you. So, very slowly, he pulled away. 

Rather awkwardly, you just stood there, arms still held out in shock from the sudden hug. 

Why were you surprised at all? He’d been like this recently – just today at counseling, he’d been extremely attentive, holding you when you’d needed him. . . 

Was this time different? Was it because now he was doing it for virtually no reason at all? You weren’t in need of his help or his comfort (that he knew of) at the moment. And, he still wanted to hug you – that was what caught you completely off guard. 

He’s drunk, y/n, a voice reminded you. Don’t overthink it. It’s just because he’s inebriated. 

And while you stood in the doorway, he continued to traipse past you, body lopsided and shaky. He was being very careful to not bump into you again, turning his body in odd ways. 

When you turned to observe him, as he made it past you, you noticed that in the process of trying to steer clear of you, he was losing his balance – quite quickly. 

So, you did the only thing you could think to do and followed behind him to help however you could. 

He wouldn’t remember it anyway.

When he started putting too much weight on one foot and started tilting a bit too far to the side, you acted on instinct. 

You wrapped your arms around his midsection. 

It proved to be a bit of a feat to keep him upright and on his feet, but you tried your hardest. The man was wonderfully built. . . but solid as a rock.

Has he been working out? You couldn’t help but wonder this as your arms pressed a bit more into his strong abdomen.

You realized that thought process could become a distraction to the task at hand in no time, so you put it to the back of your mind. Instead, you just put all of your concentration into helping him stay on the track he desired. . . . Which happened to be his bedroom. 

While trying to keep him stable, you felt your belly press further into his back. The baby felt safer there, between the two of you. It felt right to be so close. . .

But, again, you focused on the important goal of getting Jake in bed. You just kept him pressed to you the best you could with a baby in the way. Matching his footing from behind, you walked in even step with him. 

Once you were officially at his door, you reached around him to open his door for him. When your hand met the knob and twisted it, he reached forward, placing his hand over yours to open it with you. The gentle action made your skin flame. 

Though, it didn’t last long. You didn’t pause, instead continuing into the room. And the moment you walked into the room, he tapped your arm, presumably to let you know he was okay on his own. So, you tentatively let go. 

Your arms suddenly felt empty, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. 

He seemed to be a little better now, sitting down on his bed. He did it with more effort than normally necessary, but he still seemed more capable than he’d been a few minutes ago. 

So, without a word, you went to head out of his room. Right before you could walk out the door, though, you heard him from behind you. 

“Where you going?” He asked sadly, sounding more like a neglected child than a grown man. 

Turning around with a brow raised, you asked the question with your eyes before saying it aloud. “Why? You’re good now, right?”

His eyes zoned out momentarily on your face. You just blamed it on the alcohol, feeling woozy. When he came back to Earth, his eyes met yours. His eyes suddenly seemed much clearer than before. All of the air in your lungs evaporated at the look he was giving you. Desperation was the most fitting word for it. 

“I’m not good without you,” he offered, his eyes darting to his feet almost directly after saying the words. He leaned down to sloppily take off his boots, but still neatly placed them next to his bed after taking them off. 

It was honestly pretty funny to watch. You would’ve been more amused if your mind wasn’t still reeling a bit from his words. You zoned out on his guitar, placed neatly on its stand.

He. is. drunk, y/n, your internal heckler reminded you. Stop overthinking.

But. . . drunk words are honest –.

“Can you help?” Jake asked, sounding desperate while trying to achieve a task.

You looked over at him, finding him standing now and struggling to take off a necklace. Without argument, you left where you’d been standing, dejected and confused, by the doorway, to help him. 

When you made it over to him, you tapped his hands where they struggled with the latch at the nape of his neck. 

“Let me,” you insisted, replacing his hands with yours when he moved them. 

Once the necklace was taken off, you made your way around him to place the jewelry on his bedside table, whose lamp bathed the room in golden light. 

You glanced down at the necklace, running a finger down the face of the medallion. Medusa. That was who was etched into the gold metal. 

“You into Greek mythology right now?” You questioned, peeking over your shoulder at him.

When you did, the sight that beheld you took you by total surprise. Shirtless. Shirt gone. No shirt. Jake, halfway naked. 

“Oh,” you uttered the word in a moan more than anything else. You even felt your jaw drop the slightest bit. You didn’t really think anything of it. You didn’t really care to control your reactions. He wouldn’t remember any of this. You just kept telling yourself that.

And with the way the heat flooded from your head all the way to your chest, blossoming to the pit of your tummy – you didn’t think you could control your reactions. Then, when he absentmindedly adjusted himself in his pants. . . Yep. 

You bit your lip, tucking hair behind your ear. Suddenly, you felt completely out of control of your body. . . Your hormones were calling the shots – they (and Jake) were making you feel unsteady in the best possible way. 

The only downside was: there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Morals stood in the way of your bodies colliding and fucking it out. 

You understood that the Jeep incident had happened. Of-fucking-course — there was no forgetting that shit. But a big part of you also thought it would be best to leave the other night in the Jeep in the past.

It wasn’t fair to anyone involved. Right? 

So. . . You just focused on the present moment. No sex. Just Jake in front of you. Tried to ignore the surge of want for him at seeing half of him bare. 

But goddamn — what a beautifully welcome sight. . . 

His body had changed in the handsomest of ways. His thighs, as you’d noticed recently, were thicker than before. And he was. . . just broader than before. It started at the width of his shoulders, and worked down his abdomen to fill out with toned, tight muscle — his new addition of muscle was thick beneath the surface. There was just more of him altogether. The perfect amount of body for you to touch, kiss, lick. . . . . goddammit.

He still wasn’t looking at you, instead making his way to the laundry hamper across the room. You observed the way the muscle in his back flexed as he walked. The expanse of skin under his shoulder blades — his back was thick with new strength. . .What in the sweet hell? 

When he carefully swiveled on his heel to make his way back to you, after tossing the shirt in the basket, you still didn’t take your eyes from him. Just admired the sight and the fact that watching him could be your own little secret. . . 

A secret not even for Jake to know.

Though, as if on cue, his line of sight connected with yours. And when it did – damn. Your heart hammered hard in your chest. Your breath was trapped in your throat, all of it stolen from you. 

His chocolate eyes, although hazy from alcohol, were so fucking dark. Dark in the same way they’d been in his Jeep last week. 

He looked the same as he had right before you’d bent over his lap. The same way he’d eyed you as you’d been on top of him – licking him, sucking him, touching him. . . 

So, instead of holding his eyes, you decided you had to look away before you made matters any worse than they were at the present moment. 

Awkwardly, you started your next sentence without taking time to think about it. “You good now, Ja–?”

“What was your question?” 

When he interrupted you, you wanted to look back at him. But you didn’t. Not with the way his voice was suddenly much fuller – deeper, raspier. . . 

Coughing to mask any sort of embarrassing action, you tried your best to think back to what you’d asked. You couldn’t even remember. . . oh. Medusa. Pointless question. Didn’t matter.

“It was noth–.”

“I don’t care. Still wanna know.”

“Jake, it seriously doesn’t matt–.”

“Look at me, y/n,” he demanded, daring to be argued with. “Quit acting like we’re strangers.”

God. Your teeth found your lip, biting harder with a deep inhale. You let the plumpness of your bottom lip fall from your teeth with a tight exhale. Your tongue pressed into your cheek, eyebrows knit with frustration, when you peered up at him. 

Fuck it all. This was why you hadn’t let yourself look at him. 

His hungry eyes scanned your body when he got his way. He stood there admiring all of you, but his eyes were zeroed in on your ass, not leaving it.

You looked down to get an idea of what he was looking at. 

And, to your horror, you noticed that the t-shirt had ridden up, completely exposing the bottom curve of your ass cheeks. 

But, you didn’t move to change it. Instead, you decided to just stand there. Let him look. You wanted him to. This wouldn’t even count in the morning when he forgot it all.

You definitely weren’t offended by his staring. Not in the slightest. Just sort of made you nervous where things would lead if he didn’t stop observing the exposed skin.

Diversion. 

“Jake,” you purposefully spoke his name, vying for his attention up top, rather than having his eyes on your ass. 

You got your wish. Sort of. His eyes dragged from your ass to your thighs. . . Only to stop at your tits. Your skin was flushed and your skin was tingling. Your breasts, heavy under his stare and nipples tightly peaked against your oversized shirt. 

Fuck. Your body really was your worst enemy — constantly gave you away. Pregnancy hormones were a pain in the ass. 

So, you did the only thing you could think to do: you watched him watch you. The idea of his eyes burning into you without the ability to control it. . . It was almost too much for you to handle. 

Then, he wet his lips, afterwards biting into his plump bottom lip. You might as well have been naked under his stare, completely at his mercy. 

His gaze stayed consistent on your chest, residing long enough to have you feeling so desperately needy for him. . . but, eventually, his eyes moved up to your face. 

You missed his stare on your body as soon as it was gone.

“You’re so fucking—goddamn,” he breathed, his expression still dazed. But, now it was from more than alcohol. Maybe not from alcohol at all. “Do you know how good you look carrying my baby?”

Your head became a flurried mess at his words, the feeling carrying all the way down to your toes. 

“Jake,” you tried, not sure what else to say besides his name. 

But he didn’t respond with words. No, all he did was walk closer to you, still half-dressed. Seeing so much of his body made you feel so utterly pathetic for him. 

In a split second, before you could even wrap your mind around it, his hands found your waist. A soft, yet firm hold of your body. His eyes were locked on your parted lips, his face slowly leaning in and coming dangerously close to your own. 

And just as he was with you, your eyes found his lips, plush and wet from his tongue gliding over them. So kissable. All you wanted, all you needed, was to feel them collide with yours. To taste him again, to savor the sweetness that you knew to be Jake. 

He was so close that you could smell the bitter remnants of alcohol on his breath. His breath, that felt so warm against your flushed skin. You couldn’t help it as you slowly let yourself lean into him. All too well, you knew how wrong it was. . . Yet, you were having the worst time finding it within yourself to care any longer. 

Amber-brown eyes flicked up to yours, golden flecks glowing from the dim yellow lamp lighting. Your own eyes were wide under your fluttering lashes. 

The drunkenness wasn’t as prevalent in his stare as it had been before. This felt so eerily intimate — like it had happened before. You couldn’t fucking shake the feeling this moment was giving you. The dim lighting. Him so close to you—tempting you. . . 

For some reason, your eyes fluttered down between the two of you to your small, rounded tummy. 

Jake’s lips brushed your forehead with the action, his hand coming to tuck hair behind your ear. 

Your belly—it was nestled so well in the middle of your bodies, brushing up against his firm stomach. Protected.

And then a memory, clear now, came rushing back to you. It was coming out of the shadows, having been foggy and faded, but not anymore. 

The only place to go was your room, your door ajar just enough that it opened easily on its own. Jake had reached a hand behind him to close it gently– not wanting to wake anyone. 

Your lamp, still left on, just as it had been earlier in the evening, shed the perfect amount of golden glow. 

You’d grabbed his face, pulling him away from you momentarily to appreciate his features. Finally out of the dark you could look at him. 

And, God, you loved his face. Everything about it, having been so intricately and delicately created — making the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on.

A quiet smirk had graced Jake’s perfect lips, his eyes tightly locked with yours. 

“What’s the matter?” He’d asked, his hushed, now-sultry voice making your need for him that much more heightened. 

You thought a moment before you answered. 

With all of your feelings for him finally becoming realized in your own mind, there was just so much you felt you needed to say. So much you needed him to know. 

As you’d stared in his sparkling eyes, pupils pure black from the weed and his need for you, the only word your mind could conjure up was love. Over and over again. Not just the word, but the feeling; the new desire for him that went far beyond the purely physical one that you’d tried so hard to convince yourself of. 

But it wasn’t new; it had been clear all along. You’d just shoved it down to the deepest trenches of your mind, only to be discovered by the most skilled explorer. 

There was so much you had wanted to say, but you just couldn’t conjure the proper words. 

You decided your body could do all the talking. It could say more than your voice ever could.

“Nothing,” you’d whispered against his lips as you pulled him in for the deepest kiss you were certain the two of you had ever shared with one another.

You gasped as you looked up at him. The night you’d conceived—.

“Y/n, sweet girl,” Jake’s smoky voice brought your attention back to the situation. You let your body melt into his even more, needing him near. 

The reality of it all suddenly began to set in when his hands, slow and steady in their pace, moved up your waist. Strong hands now moving under your shirt, set in their direction of ascension. They came to a steady stop just beneath the curve of your tender breasts. 

“You know,” he breathed, breath washing over your lips. You blinked up at him, at his mercy. “I wanna do so much more than just hold your pretty tits,” he whispered, his lips brushing ever so lightly against yours. “How do they feel?”

“H-heavy,” you stuttered, shivering against his touch while his thumbs met at your sternum, tracing delicate patterns. 

His palms suddenly dropped from beneath your shirt. You sucked in a breath, whining as your breasts pushed out for more. Your skin begged for his touch, on fire for him. 

Before long, though, his hands came back to their spot over the fabric of the t-shirt this time. 

And, over your shirt, he cupped as much of your chest as he could, keeping you in his hold as he gently massaged. 

Stars. You saw so many stars. 

“But, not—not as sore tonight,” you sighed, settling into his grasp. There were no worries evident to you right now. 

All that mattered was Jake and his searing hot touch.

You felt him smile as close as he was, his lips almost connecting with yours as you fought back every desire to kiss him. “Yeah?”  He whispered again, raspier, while his thumbs lightly grazed your hardened nipples through your shirt, your breath catching in your throat. “What do you need right now, baby?”

The moan that escaped your lips should have been embarrassing. But it wasn’t. Not at all. It fit quite well with the way his fingers continued in their path over your nipples, circling them. He was stealing every bit of air left in your lungs, making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Tell me, baby,” he growled, lips touching yours with each word. 

Closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip, you answered silently. You, Jake. I fucking need you. 

He returned to his grip underneath your breasts, over the shirt still, cradling them so well. . . Your body just fit with his. The touch of his hands cured even the most uncomfortable changes in your body. 

You whined, not able to help the effect he was having on you and your aching body. “Jake, I need–.” Fuck. 

No. This was wrong. He was drunk. Odds were, he wouldn’t remember this. You were the one letting it happen, letting it get much further than it should have. 

“Tell me, y/n,” he repeated, brushing his thumbs once again over your taut nipples with more intent this time as your body began to tremble. “Tell me what I can do for you–.”

“I’m hungry,” you muttered out of nowhere, shaking your head as you effectively interrupted him. You pulled away, getting yourself out of another situation that could turn sticky real fast. (Yes, pun intended.) 

And you really were very hungry. Hadn’t eaten for hours. So, it was the perfect mood killer. 

“O-oh, yeah,” he breathily spoke, eyebrows dipping in just a bit as he dropped his stare. His long hair waved out around his shoulders when he shook his head. The sound of inebriated haziness was evident in his tone still, but you could tell he was quickly coming back to himself. 

And that also terrified you. The moment just now. . . Had that brought him back? You’d seen his eyes brighten when you’d leaned into him. 

He went to move past you, his body nearly meeting yours. You put out a hand, millimeters away from his heaving chest. But you couldn’t touch him yet. Not yet. Had to clear your mind. 

“Want me to make something for you?” He wondered, sounding ready to help even amidst his tipsy state. 

“I can do it,” you assured him with a small sigh and grin. “I’m capable.”

“You sure?”

“More than.” 

Your eyes held one another’s for a heavy minute. He was trying to make sure you were being honest, you could tell. 

You just encouraged him to believe your statement with a little pat to his warm, bare chest. Shit. 

You had to go. Get out of the room. Make some damn food. 

But he was right there. . . 

No. 

You quickly took your hand away before he could do something like hold it there. He didn’t get the chance, thanks to your reflexes. 

Your hands interlocked under your belly as you peeked up at him through your lashes. “I promise. I do things for myself all the time. Please let me.”

“You don’t have to ask for–,” hiccup, the sobriety still not fully present. He held a fist over his mouth, trying to be polite. Your smile met your eyes, so gone for him. . . “For my permission, y/n. Seriously. I just want to help you however I–,” hiccup, his eyes bugged a little. The giggle that came from you couldn’t be stopped. “ I can. Jesus.”

“Go to sleep,” you tried, wracking your brain for the best possible plan for him to feel better. “I’ll be okay.”

“Nah. Not yet. Wanna take a shower first,” he iterated, eyebrows drawn together with the sureness of his plan. “It’ll help.”

“Okay,” you smiled, inhaling a breath before shaking your head and moving to open his door. 

Rather than letting you get it, he raised his arm above your head, holding the door to do the job himself. You watched as he opened it wider, seeing his bicep flex with the action above your head. He’d opened it just enough for you to exit. 

You connected eyes with his, looking at him over your shoulder. 

The grin that lifted your features occurred on its own. Everything he did was making you swoon. The fucker.  

He snickered a bit at you, his teeth coming to show past his pretty lips. Dimples fully present with his knowing smile. “Go eat,” he motioned with his other hand before stepping towards you, planning to exit behind you. “My baby momma needs sustenance.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

About forty-five minutes passed. 

You’d eaten an entire box of macaroni and cheese. The noodles and yellow-y, plastic cheese weren’t making you want to gag anymore. Thank god, because it really was quite delicious. 

Now, to wash your dishes and go to bed.

You’d just heard the shower shut off about ten minutes prior to the moment you heard footsteps approach in the doorway to the kitchen.

Jake. 

“Will you come sleep with me?”

You spun to give him a questioning look from over your shoulder that held a million questions.

“Wh-what?” You stilled your task of washing the bowl you’d had your quick meal of macaroni and cheese in.

But, now, you weren’t thinking of mac and cheese. No, now you were thinking of what he just said.

When you’d looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes stuck naturally on the man standing at the doorway of the kitchen. The gesture that was meant to be quick, definitely turning into a whole-ass Jake Appreciation Fest.  

Just like earlier that evening, there he was. Shocking every nerve in your system. 

Pajama pants, slung low on his hips. . . his handsomely tanned and toned chest, still bare. His wet hair, laying on his pecs, dripping water onto each muscle. The drops of water made their way down his hard nipples, probably chilly from his shower, down his sculpted obliques and solid abdomen. . .

. . . And down, past the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. Your favorite ones. 

The pursuit you took with your line of sight was unstoppable. You had to know if he was wearing them. . . And, to your complete gladness, you saw just enough of an outline of him as he leaned his weight on one foot. . . That was all it took to know. . .

“No, I’m not wearing underwear,” he smugly remarked. 

His tone and words made your heart flutter and your cheeks become the deepest shade of crimson. Fuck. He’d caught you.

Deciding to ignore his little remark, you went back to washing the dish, still being held over the sink. In a much looser grip thanks to his comment. Gripping the dish tighter, you put all of your spinning nerves into washing it properly. You fumbled a little, but hoped he didn’t notice. 

“What did you mean before? About sleeping together?” You tried, working to maintain enough attention on the dish that you wouldn’t drop it against the sink and break the thin Corelle. 

“Just sleep,” he emphasized with a chuckle, sounding more and more like himself the longer he stood there. “Nothing more. Cross my heart.”

“Oh,” you offered lamely, heart thumping a hundred miles an hour in your chest, boobs suddenly aching for. . . Fuck. 

Why was he asking you to simply sleep with him? What the hell? 

God. . .

Should you? Was it a good idea? Well, no. You could answer that. It wasn’t a good idea. At all. 

But. . . should you go lay with him? Maybe fall asleep in his arms. . . Would it help you sleep easier after your short, uneasy rest from earlier in the evening?

Shit.

You knew the answer. Knew the answer very well. Even before EMDR, when the bad dreams would occur, they were always better – tamed, happy, or gone completely – when you slept in the same bed as Jake. 

“Yeah,” you said, not taking any more time to contemplate. “I will.”

“Alright,” he replied, sounding relieved behind you. Why did he sound so happy? Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. He still had alcohol in his system. That explained it. 

 You rinsed the rest of the bubbles from the bowl when you heard him speak up again. 

“Want me to wash it?”

“N-no,” you stuttered nervously and shook your head, focusing on the sudsy dish. “I’ve got it.”

“Okay. You full? Get enough to eat?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he answered, the smile evident in his tone. “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t,” you reassured, willing your pulse to return to normal. 

And, seconds later, you were hearing his footfalls against the carpet as he made his way back to his room. 

Well. 

Finishing the job of the bowl, – taking much longer than needed – you contemplated. 

You guessed his tone was still a little wavy, but you knew better than to think he was still drunk. 

He definitely wasn’t.

Had the shower helped that much? Had it been the moment in his room? Both combined? 

After the equally clean saucepan was put away in the drawer below the oven, you dragged your feet a bit more as you went to check on Stevie and put some more food in her dish. When her tail swished across your calves, you felt a bit of calmness return to you. 

Your heart was still thrumming in your chest. But you were able to slow your thoughts down enough to feel more at peace as you took notice of yourself in your full-body mirror.

Damn. . .oooo-kay, y/n. . . 

Why did you suddenly feel completely confident in your body? You turned, getting every angle. 

It just felt so great to not doubt your appearance. It was just like last Monday. You could get used to this feeling. 

Your boobs looked fantastic and big under your gray t-shirt, nipples peaked as they most-often were these days. Your ass looked perfectly rounded out from the way it peeked out of your soft shirt. . . And, lifting your t-shirt, you looked at the little bump of your tummy. 

The best addition to the entire look. Your grin was natural as you admired your baby. . .

Your tummy was growing steadily as you still sat on the bigger side of pregnant bellies. Your bump wasn’t a little subtle thing. No, it was an obviously pregnant belly. 

Small, but definitely still noticeable. And it was just cute as hell. 

After rubbing a gentle hand over the expanse of skin on your belly, you pulled your shirt back down over it. 

And with a final fluff of your hair, you grabbed your Stanley from the nightstand before making your way to where you’d find sleep tonight. 

You were just going to get good rest for your baby. It was for the baby. 

That was what you worked to convince yourself of as you walked with quiet purpose to his bedroom. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Why did you come home?”

You were laying in his bed. Just like old times. 

Except, in the past, where you would’ve most likely been naked, you were not tonight. 

Everything else though? Same as always.

Your legs were tied into his, looped around his just right, playing footsie with him beneath the covers. Your head rested on his bare chest, your hand underneath your cheek as it laid so perfectly well on his exquisitely strapped pecs.

Oh, also. . . One more thing different than before: the bump. The baby, tucked snugly against his side where you were turned into him. 

It was heaven. That was what it was. 

A yawn emitted from deep in his chest. You knew sleep was finding him faster than you would’ve liked. Naturally, a little yawn found you as well.

Sighing heavily to follow the yawn, you felt his hand that laid above you come to comb through the strands of your hair.  “I don’t like being away from you.”

Your heartbeat was heavy in your ears – did your best to ignore it.

“Was Maya mad?”

“Yeah.”

“Jake,” you scolded, for no reason. You didn’t give two shits about how she felt. But. . . you did care about his happiness – didn’t want to ruin his relationship when it made him feel happy and whole.

“She’ll get over it,” he reassured with another yawn that lifted your cheek with his rising chest. “She was drunker than I was.”

“Are you still drunk?” You pondered aloud with a yawn and a giggle, naturally emitting in his presence. 

But. . . you knew better. Didn’t even have to ask. It just made all of this more understandable if he were to still be drunk. It made this easier to submit to. 

You didn’t know why the prospect of simply laying beside him was harder to come to terms with than having his dick in your mouth. Just like it’d been a week ago. 

Your cheeks heated at the thought. Of its own volition, your thigh came to momentarily graze past his crotch.

“Not really,” he answered, sounding a touch offended that you’d even asked. “Pretty sober now, honestly.”

The more coherent he sounded, the more intimidated you became. . . 

Best to let him find sleep. You’d answer to this in the morning. . . For now, your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the moment. 

“I believe you,” you settled with a contented yawn of your own, nestling into his chest. Couldn’t help it. Had to be closer.

You blinked, slower and slower. So sleepy — just felt so right in his arms. His hand came to hold the base of your skull as a thumb traced your head so lightly. 

Goosebumps rose on your skin from his precious gesture. . . It felt so damn incredible. 

“You should,” he iterated, his lips coming to meet the crown of your head, giving you a feather-light kiss. 

And, within a minute, he was lightly snoring. 

It took almost no time at all for you to follow him to slumber. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Just like you would’ve guessed, the bad dreams didn’t come that night. 

. . .Because Jake made everything better. That was just it. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

December 16, 2022 

As you sat in the waiting room, you surveyed him and noticed he wasn’t wearing the Medusa medallion. The newer one you’d noticed on Monday. 

“No Medusa?” You questioned, at a decent enough volume to not disturb the few other mothers and fathers in the waiting room. He flicked his amber-brown gaze over to you, caught in a trance by the beautiful, light decor of the clinic. 

Once he looked at you, his eyebrows only dipped at your words, not understanding. You motioned to his neck with a slight flick of your wrist. “Your Medusa medallion. I noticed it the other night.”

He snorted, lips quirking in a small grin with a shake of his head. “That was a stupid gift I got from Maya’s little sister,” he explained, scratching the back of his head. 

“Jake,” you disciplined his words, but you couldn’t help the tiny giggle that slipped past your lips. It was kind of funny that he found it stupid. 

“What?!” He turned to you, a full smile on his face. You raised a faux disappointed brow at him and he contended that with his next remark, “Okay, yes, I know I shouldn’t call it stupid. Maya said it’s because of her sister’s little crush on me. . . But it was kind of funny that she showed up with it at her birthday party, for one,” he explained, crossing his legs at the knee. “And for two, Medusa? A Greek goddess? Since when is that my primary interest?”

You shrugged at that, a small smile stuck to your features. He was adorable.

He continued on, “For some reason, Maya struggles to differentiate between pirates and mythology. . . and no matter how many times I explain they’re different, she doesn’t catch on to it.” 

He shook his head, tousling a hand through his long, wavy hair as he placed the other hand on his knee. His rings weren’t present today, so you got to truly appreciate the curvatures of his tanned, masculine hands. 

“You should still acknowledge that Maya’s sister’s–what’s her name?”

“Kaia. K-a-i-a. . . Different from Maya’s by two letters. Sound the same, though,” he snickered.

Kaia and Maya. . . so they’re a rhyming name family. For some reason, the thought made you snort a laugh, a grin claiming your lips. 

“I know,” Jake said, a little humorous in his own tone. “Kaia and Maya. Can we agree to not name our kids rhyming names?”

Our kids? As in, more than the one in your belly?

You took note of him and his reaction to his mistake, watched the way his eyes continued scanning the walls of the white and blush waiting room. 

He seemed to not notice his mess up, still going about his business as usual. His foot tapped against the bamboo flooring to the beat of the classic rock radio station playing. 

You decided to ignore his words. It had been a slip up. Just like your own slip up in the car the other day. 

You, speaking of love. 

Jake, mentioning multiple kids. 

You both were just in a state of stress with the life change. . . it wasn’t anything. Just a couple mis-worded moments.

You continued on, looking down at your belly briefly, smoothing your hands down your sweater to flatten any weird lines. “. . .Kaia’s sentiment was kind. Her little crush is sweet,” you iterated, sounding more like a mom everyday. “I hope you told her thank you.”

He chuckled, raspy and light, at you. Switching your line of sight up to him, you saw his eyes read a sense of fondness as he cast his gaze on you. 

“I did,” he smirked, winking at you. Your tummy fluttered with butterflies. “You are going to be a fantastic mom, y/n. I’ve known it for a long time and I know it more and more with your little coaching moments.”

Your heart went crazy at the thought of him imagining you as a fantastic mother. And he’d known it for a long time? How long? What did that mean? 

“Thanks, Jake,” you blushed a light pink, matching the colors of the crepe walls. There was one more thing you wanted to say though. 

“However,” you cleared your throat, glancing at him momentarily from the corner of your eye. He was heeding you, brow arched as he waited for your next words. 

“I can’t say anything to excuse Maya’s non-acknowledgment at the obvious contrasts of pirates and mythology. They are two completely different beasts,” you emphasized, turning your full attention to him. He was still watching you. The flush was back in your cheeks. “I’ve seen enough of your documentaries about pirates and I’m an English major, for God’s sake. . . so I know these things.”

The way his features brightened was precious – like he was being seen. 

And he was seen. He would always be seen if you had anything to say about it. 

Also, you did know the difference, you weren’t lying. None of what you said was a lie. You’d said what you did because you needed him to know that you understood. His interests mattered to you and they should to Maya as well. They should matter to her more-so. 

The moment was cut off quite quickly, though, as you were hearing your name being called to the back for your appointment. 

You were about to see your baby again. With Jake. And you’d know by the end of the hour if it was a boy or girl. . . 

The blood was pumping in your ears as Jake fell in step beside you on the way to the back. You smiled up at him, where you were met with his sparkling eyes. Both of you were obviously giddy with eagerness and excitement. 

Your thoughts were filled with everything that was to come. All sunshine and pale colors – so much love.

Here we go. . .

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: ...i wonder if you can guess the name/gender after this chapter part... ;) see you soon (next part is almost finished, my loves) :) feel free to always come to my ask box or message box! i'm always down to talk when my adhd/anxiety doesn't attack me <3

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[raavos]

Fluff//Romantic//SFW Abc - Aaravos x GN!Reader.

Includes Touch/Physical Affection, small text, tooth rotting fluff, mentions of panic attack's and sadness, mentions fighting (Not detailed.) Established relationship. Characters: Aaravos, Gender neutral reader self insert. Authors note: My first Post on this blog, I hope you enjoy. 💗 This fanfic was made about 2 years ago so there's TONS of grammar mistakes and could be mischaracterization of Aaravos. I decided from the release of season 6 & 7 recently (7 still on the way as I write this.) I should FINALLY finish this draft, to clarify all bold text is shit writing done years ago and the non bold writing is fresh. :3 - FLUFF ABC TEMPLATE BY: @snk-warriors (Go check them out!) -

-V- WRITING BELOW THE CUT -V-

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them? He will love indulging you, sometimes he thinks most activities are silly or a waste of time. But when It's you, he's willingly playing games with you, or even becoming competitive. Though I imagine he has no need to eat or sleep. He will cook with you and sleep with you as well. Weirdly enough Sometimes he would lay awake at night with you in your arms, Watching over you..

(Sometimes You'll wake up in the middle of the night and make eye contact with him and get a fright. He'll laugh at you.)

Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them? He is head over heels for you, how did you manage to get him like this? Who knows. He thinks you put a spell on him..He thinks of you like a deity, jokingly saying you could go toe to toe with Aphrodite to your dismay, Shushing him for his backhanded compliment as he laughs softly before kissing your hand as apology.

No matter what form you take, what Species you are, your size, weight, height, culture, ethnicity or gender.

He will love you deeply and unconditionally, he loves calling you 'Ravishing' or praising you. Aaravos is more focused on personality believe it or not, If you're nasty and rude he wouldn't like you to be his lover.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.? If you're sad and willing to follow him or indulge in his affection, he will lead you to your bedroom or couch, cuddling up with him as he litters your face with kisses and whispers sweet nothings and praise in your ear.

If you aren't wanting to be touched or talked to at the moment and just be left alone he'll respect your wishes, but he'll at least try get you to drink something, crying to much causes dehydration in his knowledge and he wants you to be optimal, even while in such a state.

If you are having a panic attack he's stays calm and sits with you, not touching you but staying close and murmuring soft, comforting words.

(Remember, ask if you can touch someone first If they're having a panic attack. Touching them without asking could make them panic more and make it worse.)

If you say yes or nod he rubs your back, holding you close as he speaks to you softly, kissing your head and wiping your tears away with his hand gently.

Holding you close on his lap wrapped in a blanket, crying into his chest while he holds you. Once you've calmed down he tells you to rest, Panic attacks can be draining. In a whole other scenario, If you don't want to be touched by him he'll listen intently just keeping you company or asking gently if you need anything.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o? Probably burning down Xadia together.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive? He's definitely the most dominant, Initiating most of the affection in your relationship and PDA No matter what if you're bigger than him or taller he can charm his way into flustering you.

He can take teasing, but not to much to the point where it's insults. Getting annoyed if you belittle him and telling you to zip it.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting? He's not the type to fight, but when you do It's mostly about small things. Whenever you fight He'll always try to one up you, annoying you further until you're forced to drop it. Of course he reflects on it and even during the fight you could mistake his teasing for mocking, he's stubborn is the thing.

He won't let you win, though when apologising he will. Sitting with you and saying sorry for the fight or 'admitting' He was wrong, In a way that makes you think your right, And in a way that lets him still be a smug little shit.

He'd mostly like apologising by flustering you or whispering things in your ears to tease you in attempt of making you laugh or blush. And using his body to apologise as well. With cuddles and kisses..Or..Something else.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them? He appreciates the fact you even like him. Hah, Aaravos? Insecure? Hah! Hah. Hah.. Haha....

Sometimes he does question it, Watching you do the simplest things like smelling flowers, Patting an animal. He questions it in his head,

'Why would they love someone like me? Are they Crazy?'

When you notice him zoning out or lost in thought you'll ask him what he's thinking about, and he'll laugh and brush it off. Even though you can't catch him staring, He's lovesick.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything? He doesn't lie, He just bends the truth. Of course he has secrets, And most he hides to 'Keep you safe.' He has a good reason of course, Whenever if comes to the topic he will steer you away, Charmingly. Though if you push he will sigh, Still not telling you but saying he cannot tell you. He'd never get frustrated with you but he is a bit annoyed.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems? I guess you could say he's more forgiving, He's.. 'Trying' To find the good in things. He thinks before he acts, Sometimes like 'What would _____ Do...' ....But it's short lived, 'Encourage me, perhaps.'

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it? Whoever he was jealous of mysteriously disappeared..

Or alternatively he is a little shit who shoots shitty glances and glares, cunning witty insults..ect.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like? Starstriking. Aaravos is a good kisser, it starts out slow and sweet..patient for a moment as his hand slips behind your neck, caressing it softly with his bigger hand. He is a very greedy man, and even sometimes he lets his calculated actions slip. Giving into his own desires as he indulges the pure love and desire he has for you.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o? Extravagant comes to mind at first, but not exactly. His declarations of love are meant for YOU, nobody else. It doesn't matter how they judge it or categorise it. He only cares about you. In other words, he would move galaxies and nebula for you, incinerate all of those who could possibly harm you. When it comes to dating at first..he's honestly a gentleman despite everything.

Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like? Of course. Well, it's not a big intention but he is incredibly open to it and enthusiastic. To him marriage is a small human thing, a ring and a few words-..but it's not like he's trying to minimise it, he's simply seeing it as something so trivial compared to his love. He thinks of you as a crucial extension of himself. If you were gone it's like being cut in half. He would remove his own heart, push all the air that he breathes out and sacrifice it to you.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o? It depends. Corny things maybe, Starlight, Darling. You get the jist. Your interpretation is the only right answer.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings? Irresponsible. Breaking his own rules and bending past his crucial plans of revenge for you. It might seem small but he devotes a lot of time to you. He gives you trinkets that are so valuable selling it might break humanity's economy. Much more emotion is squeezed out of him, smiles that aren't hiding malice and gentle touches that don't intend any harm, he truly adores you. To you it may grow on you, but to others if witnessed they might be incredibly concerned

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching? Very much so. He does not have the problem of stopping people from flirting with him because he won't get them the chance. He is strangely considerate of you, something he is very much not most of the time. He doesn't want to give you anything that could be morphed into him loving another. He only wants you, your being that transcends reality's is so prominent and clear to him that death would not do you both part for even then he'd find you.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship. Everything

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative? Everything.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them? He's supportive and will put his own plan into fire to fit yours in. You're happy, he's happy.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine? Besides showing you the wonders of the earth and knowledge you cannot comprehend he shows you sides others cannot fathom exist. He does small things, to. Like remembering the tiniest details about you, contributing to a conversation with old facts about your life you told him and seemed to forget you told him even yourself, surprising you every time.

Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic? Yes.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life? His life. You're the light that illuminates his skin, the calcium in his bones, every beat of his heart fueled by your very presence and existence. He would cry a universe worth of tears for you if you ever parted him. Everything else in his life meant absolutely nothing compared to you. (..Besides Leola, of course. You both were on the same-ish level.)

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon. He adores horn scritches.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle? Of course. He loves adorning your skin and body with his lips, holding you was good to. If you share a bed, he holds you in his arms, chin resting against your head and arms snaked around the back of your waist of neck, hold the back of your head of rake his fingers carefuly through your hair. (..Unless your bald.)

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner? Tantrums and uncoordinated actions. His plans are out the window and his own goal is to have you in his arms or in his reach. If not possible for any reason he is more than Frustrated. Waiting was something you'd assume he's used to. But the fact he wasn't trapped in a prison anymore this ticked him off. Theoretically there wasn't MUCH stopping him..but presumably it would be frowned down upon by you. He dives into books, spies a bit and observes all around himself. No harm in being all knowledgeable

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of? He would destroy the very universe he resides in for you.

[lyneira]

♤ the crown prince and his wife-to-be ♤

-> headcanons of your relationship with Malleus as his betrothed

malleus x fem!reader

♤ the crown prince and his wife-to-be part II: your first time with him ♤ (NSFW) coming soon!

Ever since your betrothal to one another when you two were young, you and Malleus have written letters to each other (per Briar Valley courting tradition). After many long years of writing, it wouldn't be until recently that you'd finally be able to meet each other again, and it would be at NRC (where you’d be attending as well).

While he was so excited for your arrival, I think it starts off a bit awkward between the two of you despite having sent years and years’ worth of letters. Yes, he was ready to show you the many things that he’d spoken of in them, from the beautifully sculpted gargoyles around the school, to the lovely garden they have, and to some interesting spots he’s discovered, but when you finally stood in front of him, he froze and his heart was about to leap from his chest. You looked just as beautiful as your soul that had always shone through your writing.

He’d still try to act composed, but inside, he’s freaking out. He would just also be insanely nervous that you’re finally physically here with him. Thankfully, you’re kind and patient with him and the moment you mention gargoyles, his nervousness goes away, gets replaced by passion and adrenaline, and he confirms that indeed, this really was the girl he’s admired and wrote to for so long.

You would sneak off with Malleus to go on nightly walks and explore some ruins, to the dismay of both Sebek and Silver as well as your own retainers.

He'd appreciate that you wear the necklace he gifted you, so he'd also wear something you had gifted him. If neither of you could wear the marriage ring just yet, then at least something like this would do. It's a sign that you're his and he's yours.

Aside from you two, I think many would make it a point to avoid you for fear of being struck down by the powerful fae that is to be your husband if he ever saw them approach you. Sure, Malleus would probably give those who seemed to get too close to you a small, disapproving cold stare, but he would do no such thing as striking them down (not unless they hurt you). Therefore, you would still end up being isolated sometimes as well. Malleus would notice this and apologize to you for being the reason most are scared of approaching you. You would have to assure him that he has no need to apologize. If that’s the way it was going to be, then so be it. Yet, this wouldn’t stop you from trying to change it nevertheless.

You’d still receive invitations from the school or other students, and while Malleus is happy for you, he’d be inwardly sulking at the same time. You could be reading the invitation letter, and Malleus would take a peek from behind you and would scoff, “Hoh, they dare invite my wife-to-be without inviting her husband as well? How cheeky” Now Malleus would never force you to stay with him if he wasn't invited, but man would it be hard to still attend as you look at his sad face when you’re about to walk out the door. (Don’t leave this man alone pls)

You wished others could see how kind and sweet your fiance actually is, so you’d take it upon yourself to bring him to the places/events you’ve been invited to. Though he might be awkward trying to socialize, especially as he receives stares, you’d gently help him ease into it and ensure that he's included in the conversation. He’d appreciate you for taking the effort to help people come to like him, or rather, truly get to know him. And so it made him overjoyed that someone like you was going to be his wife. He couldn’t be any more grateful.

Malleus would be akin to a lost puppy following you around the way he always sticks to your side as much as possible. Wherever you are, there he wants to be. He’ll give you space whenever you need it and he knows he can’t be with you 24/7 of course, but he’ll always have his mind on you even when you’re away. If you’re gone for too long, he’d start becoming antsy, always wondering when you’ll be back. Yeah, you two were able to handle the distance over many years of writing to each other, but now that he has you in his presence so often, he doesn’t want to let you go. If he can’t do anything to see you sooner, he’d simply have things you’ve given him or some of your belongings around him to help content him for the time-being. Like, if you gave him a plushie, then you’d best believe that he’d be hugging it so tightly as he slept. Or did you leave him your handkerchief? It’s in his pocket right now. This dude is an absolute simp for you.

He loves it when you help him raise his dear tamagotchi, Roaring Drago. He'll mention how much he can't wait to have his own roaring dragos with you. He gets just as excited talking about a future with you as he does when talking about gargoyles lmao. He already begins planning names and such that you'd have to tell him to calm down a bit, especially when he mentions that he wants a big family (we’re talking about 3-5 kids). At the end of the day, he'll go with however many kids you'd like, but I was just thinking he’d want such a big family since y’know, he’s been lonely and isolated from others so having lots of people around would lift his spirits. (And what more would he want this many when the mother of his children would be you?) He’d imagine your little babies running around the castle, filling the great, long halls with joyous noise and laughter, something he didn't quite have when growing up. He’d imagine sitting by the fireplace with you and them, talking to them about gargoyles, how you two met long ago, or answering any of their silly questions when something confuses them. One might be sitting on his lap, one might be hanging on to his leg, one might even try to sit on his shoulders, holding on tight to his horns and ask him to stand up so they can feel as tall as him, and the other would be in your arms or lap as well. He absolutely could not wait for that future where he can be surrounded by those he dearly loves and adores.

a/n: I know, I know..! A lot of the hcs parallel my hcs in my ♡ how to gain the dragon’s affection ♡ one, but I think it was nice to elaborate on 'em a little further! Anyway, the next part of this is going to be an nsfw drabble of your first time with him, so minors pls do not intend to read that

[cheapshrimpysheep]

No Kisses - Side Characters

SUMMARY: After tasting a Solomon's dish, your lips got infected. It's nothing serious, but it's contagious. So you decide not to kiss anyone until your lips heal. How do they react to the wait?

CHARACTERS: Side Characters [Diavolo; Barbatos; Luke (platonic); Simeon & Solomon]

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Kissing

WORD COUNT: An average of 300 words per character.

COMMENTS: I finally thought of something to write with the Obey Me! characters! Recently I got angular cheilitis. My lips are very dry. Nothing too serious, but that's what gave me the idea to write this.

I hope you enjoy. ;)

P.S.: Here's the version with the Brother: No Kisses - Demon Brothers

CONTEXT: You couldn't get rid of tasting Solomon's new dish. He looked so proud and happy about it. And it didn't look as... deadly as the others. It was salty, but not too bad. The problem came later, your lips became drier than usual and small cuts formed on them. He was worried and apologized profusely.

The doctor told you it was nothing serious and gave you an ointment to put on your lips. But what you had was contagious through kissing. So you decide not to kiss anyone until your lips are completely healed.

Diavolo gets very worried about you. But after knowing that it's nothing too serious, he's more relieved. When you tell him about not kissing anyone, he completely understands and admires your thoughtfulness.

He still considers using his magic to heal you, but since Solomon's food is involved, he doesn't know if his magic could unintentionally make your infection worse. So he'll just be patient and remind you to follow the doctor's directions.

He will ask Barbatos to cook for you. His butler will cook and cut the ingredients so as not to strain the poor elasticity of your lips. So that it doesn't hurt when you eat.

Although you can’t kiss him, he’ll still kiss you on the cheeks and forehead. Maybe even more than usual. Even though he knows his kisses won't heal you, they might help you feel better.

If you sleep together, he'll look at your lips while you're sleeping. He doesn't show it when you're awake, he's very good at hiding it. But he is very sad. Not only because he can't kiss you, but also because it's hurting you. He doesn't like feeling helpless, but he has no way of knowing if his magic will heal you or make it worse. He'll just be patient.

When you are sure that your lips are healed and you tell him so, he’s so happy for you! He's so glad that you feel well again. You kiss his cheek to thank him for the concern and care. He caresses your cheek, looking at your beautiful healthy lips. “I'm so glad for you, my dear. Will you allow me to celebrate with a longing kiss?”

Barbatos gets very worried about you. And even after knowing that it's nothing very serious, he continues to worry about you because you still have a lip infection. The same way he would take care of his young master, he will take care of you. You’ll feel like a new member of royalty that he will take care of.

Of course he will cook for you! Not that you can't cook for yourself, but mainly speaking of Devildom ingredients, he is more knowledgeable about them. And even he can even know ingredients that ease the possible pain of your lips. He will take care of you.

Being protective of the people he cares about, he will be attentive and remind you to put on the ointment the doctor prescribed for you, like an alarm clock. Maybe even go so far as to buy a second one if you forget yours or don't have it with you at the moment. Better safe than sorry.

He was never the type to give kisses. Or at least not as much as the other men you know at the Devildom. And he won't give you any while you're healing. It wouldn't be fair to give you a kiss that you can't return. He likes it better when you reciprocate them.

If you sleep together, he'll look at your dry, cut lips while you're sleeping. And remembering all the reasons why he doesn't like Solomon. Luckily it's nothing serious. Lucky for you and for him. Because if something serious had happened to you and it was his fault, Barbatos would make sure he paid for it, one way or another, even with their pact.

When you are sure that your lips are healed and you tell him so: “Ah, yes. Right on time. That's wonderful.” He’ll say “Time for what, you're asking? Oh, for us to try out the new Demonus that just arrived for us. You will join me, I believe.” He smiles.

Oh No! You're sick?! What did Solomon do? He can't do this to you! And you have to be more careful! Luke will be your caregiver! You can't even smile tasting his sweets anymore. This is horrible! He will be your caregiver! Your guard dog! He probably imagined himself as a St. Bernard Rescue Dog. But maybe you imagine a Chihuahua with that same little barrel around his neck that he can't carry because it's the same size as the dog.

He won't admit that he's going to miss the kisses on the cheek you give him when you think he's cute. NEVER! Okay, maybe if your sad about the situation with your lips.

He will learn to make sweets that won't hurt your lips. And always looking at you a little worried, seeing if you make a face that shows that your lips hurt when you eat. If you don't, he will be very happy that you managed to eat without felling pain. If you do, Simeon will have to help you calm Luke down and say it's not his fault.

He will ask you every day how you are feeling. If your lips are healing. If the ointment really works. Do not forget to apply the ointment. And be careful when eating, your lips can hurt you if you're not careful.

When you are sure that your lips are healed and you tell him so, YAY! He’s so happy that you’re feeling well again. He was so sweet to you, and he's being so sweet now. Your caregiver deserves those kisses on the cheek that he so wants to hide that he likes.

Simeon doesn't show how worried about you he is at first. He just shows the relief of hearing that it's nothing too serious. He will always see the bright side. Don't worry, it will pass. And he will always be ready to comfort you when your lips hurt.

Of course he will cook for you! he already loves to do it on a normal day. He is so skilled that not only does his cooking not hurt your lips, it also seems to comfort and help them heal as much as the ointment. How was that possible?

Although you can’t kiss him, he’ll still kiss you on the cheeks and forehead. He doesn't care that you can't reciprocate, he doesn't kiss you for that. He kisses you because he wants give you affection. Angels give without expecting to receive. Being kissed by you again is just an wonderful gift.

If you sleep together, he'll look at your dry, cut lips while you're sleeping. Since you aren't seeing him, he lets his smile fade. No one likes to see the person they love sick, even if it's not something that serious. He will caress your cheek, being careful not to wake you up.

When you are sure that your lips are healed and you tell him so, he's so glad! He saw that you were getting better, so he knew it would only be a matter of time before your lips were fully healed. Like I said, he doesn't give expecting something in return. But he'll be over the moon if the first person you want to kiss is him. He missed your kisses so much.

Luckily it's nothing serious, but Solomon knows it's still his fault. Would you be allergic to any ingredients he used? Would you know you were allergic? Was there anything he could do to heal you faster? And redeem himself?

You and/or the doctor warn him NOT TO DO ANYTHING! He is confused and sad that he cannot help. Can he at least cook for you? Sorry Solomon but NO! So what can he do for you? Um... what if he does other things for you? Like, I don't know, a butler?

If you tell Barbatos about this, he'll be delighted to see it front row. Would you like him to give Solomon some kind of intensive training? After all, it's going to take some time for your lips to heal, right?

He will still kiss you on the cheek and forehead. Maybe even more than usual. After all, you don't let him cook for you or try to heal you with magic. He wants to help you cook. He promises to follow what you tell him to do. Seriously, he promises. If you still refuse his help, he'll hug you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder while you cook, continuing to promise that he'll just follow your instructions and ask you to let him help.

If you sleep together, he'll look at your lips while you're sleeping. When you're awake, you see him always smiling or making puppy eyes for you to let him help you cook. But like this, when you don't see him, his smile fades. And he'll caress your cheek, being careful not to wake you up. It's his fault, and his punishment is to be without your kisses.

When you are sure that your lips are healed and you tell him so, he'll hug you while saying he is glad. Then he'll place his hands on your cheeks, look you in your eyes and say: “Now, will you let me show you how much I'm sorry? And how much I missed your kisses?”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX