#okay i lied this is fr the last one
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miscgifsgifs · 1 year ago
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Isabel + looking at Josie in Bottoms (2023)
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motheryves · 1 year ago
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she had hair so long that it look like weave
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whenthegoldrays · 3 months ago
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and like, despite the deliciously shippable couples it has, Twinkling Watermelon is not a romcom, it’s a fantasy coming-of-age. the theme is family, the main relationship is between Eun Gyeol and his father and while their respective romantic storylines are crucial, they’re not central.
which is nice, on the one hand, because it offers a slightly different (and beautiful) kind of story, but then because instead of being [main couple] > [second couple] it’s [son and dad] > [son’s gf and mom], it ends up letting down Eun Yoo and Cheong-ah a bit and leaving their resolutions a bit rushed / open ended (you know, like how in other shows you’ll see the second couple standing together at the main characters’ wedding but no actual, solid resolution).
so the final scene of the show is primarily a bonding moment and a resolution for Yichan and Eun Gyeol, and you don’t get much of Cheongchan and a very quick last-moment wrapping up of Euneun (and like. what happened to our girls in the years in between?? we need answers!)
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edenesth · 7 months ago
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TWTHH Bonus: Star of the Show
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.1k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
A/N: In case you haven't already read Honeymoon Avenue (the first bonus chapter), it's probably better to check that out before reading this. Also, please be warned that this contains a slight spoiler to Wooyoung and Hongjoong's spinoffs.
Honeymoon Avenue | Fic Masterlist
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"Your wife is with child."
The words echoed in the general's mind long after Yunho had uttered them. You remained unconscious in his room, undergoing a more thorough examination. Seonghwa had been asked to leave while you were attended to. He felt a wave of relief knowing that, according to the physician, your fainting spell was simply your body's way of compensating for the exhaustion caused by the demands of the little one growing inside you.
"Don't worry, everything will be okay."
"I'm counting on you, Yunho," he recalled telling the doctor before exiting his private quarters, his gaze lingering on your still, pale figure nestled under the covers.
"When have I ever let you down, my lord? She'll be fine, the baby will be fine; your family, they'll be just fine."
Realising there was no use lingering outside while the physician and his team of servants were busy examining you—his presence wouldn't change anything—he decided to occupy himself elsewhere while he waited. However, returning to his study seemed impossible; he knew he wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.
As if with a mind of its own, his feet carried him toward the House of Lotus. His heart warmed at the familiar sight of the pavilion facing the lotus pond, your favourite spot, once empty but now furnished with a small table, cosy cushioned seats, and decorative lanterns. It was a testament to the time you two spent together there. He could never tire of being there with you, and the mere thought of spending eternity like that was more than enough to fill his heart with joy.
Soon, it wouldn't just be us two.
Deciding not to sit alone without you, he opted to enter your quarters instead, where every corner held a piece of you. He softened as he opened the door and spotted your embroidery kit at the centre of the room. You had been deeply invested in the craft ever since Hongjoong had taught you a few techniques, dedicating nearly all your time to it when you weren't occupied with anything else. He remembered finding you diligently working on it late into the night and had to gently coax you to bed with him.
Approaching the items, he settled into your usual spot before going through the designs you had created. A chuckle escaped him as he took in some of your earlier, more clumsy works—clearly, these were from when you first began learning from the dressmaker. As he continued, a smile graced his lips at the gradual improvement in quality. It hinted at the possibility that you had discovered a hidden talent; his friend would surely be proud to see your progress.
However, his movements faltered as he reached the bottom of the pile and discovered what appeared to be a... baby shirt. Realisation dawned on him: had this been your secret project all along? Were you aware of your pregnancy all this time?
Questions flooded his mind, each one more pressing than the last. Why hadn't you told him? Why had you lied and pretended everything was fine when you must have been feeling so sick? Did you not trust him enough to confide in him?
His heart ached with the thought that you might have felt the need to hide something so important from him. It left him feeling a mix of confusion, hurt, and a tinge of betrayal. Had he not made it clear that he was there for you, no matter what?
As he sat there, staring at the tiny garment in his hands, he couldn't help but wonder what reasons you could have had for keeping this from him. His mind raced with possibilities, each one more heartbreaking than the last. He thought back to all the times you had been showing symptoms of pregnancy, and it hurt him to know you didn't feel safe enough to tell him the truth. Was it because you didn't think he would be a good father? What if, deep down, there was a part of you that was still afraid of him? What if—
Before his thoughts could further linger, a knock on the door snapped him out of his train of thought. Turning to see who it was, he allowed entry and found Eunsook standing there with a smile on her face, "The mistress is awake, master," she announced. With that, all his previous worries were momentarily swept from his mind. Only you mattered as he quickly rose from his seat and dashed towards his room to see you.
Rushing into the room, Seonghwa's heart raced as he laid eyes on you, sitting up on his bed with Yunho standing beside you. Relief flooded him as he saw you speaking softly with the physician, a gentle hand pressed against your stomach.
Oh thank god, she's alright... they're alright.
Moving closer, he couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for you. Despite the recent scare, you looked calm and serene, your presence soothing his worried mind. He approached quietly, not wanting to interrupt your conversation with Yunho but eager to be by your side.
As soon as your eyes met, he noticed the hint of moisture gathering in your gaze as you uttered his name, "Hwa..." His heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice, and he quickly moved forward, settling beside you on the bed. Gently, he grasped your hand, brushing strands of hair away from your face and stroking your cheek, "What's wrong, my love? Are you feeling alright?"
You nodded, leaning into his touch and motioning for Yunho to speak on your behalf. Taking a deep breath, the physician began, "Her condition is currently stable, my lord."
Seonghwa furrowed his brow in dread, "I'm sensing a 'but' there."
"But..." the doctor continued, "Due to years of severe malnutrition throughout the lady's childhood, her body lacks many essential nutrients necessary for both her and the baby. This explains her weakness. But fear not, I will do everything in my power to ensure her full recovery. Once we pass the three-month mark safely, the remainder of the pregnancy should proceed smoothly."
"I... I understand. Thank you again, Yunho, for your hard work. It seems we'll need your frequent visits for the next few months," the general acknowledged, offering a grateful nod to his friend.
"No problem, my lord and lady. I'll ensure Eunsook receives all the necessary information for the mistress' care. Please excuse me, I should get started on the preparations immediately."
Once Yunho had left and you were alone together, your husband turned his attention back to you. Squeezing your hand gently, he couldn't shake the image of the baby shirt from his mind. He knew he had to address it. Leaning closer, he pressed a kiss on your forehead before delicately broaching the subject, "I... I have a question."
You responded in a soft voice, returning the squeeze of his hand, "What is it, Hwa?"
"My love, have you been aware that you were pregnant all along?"
As your gaze met his, he rested his forehead against yours, seeking to reassure you, "It's just... I was going through your embroideries earlier and I saw it—the baby shirt."
You let out a soft sigh, nodding, "Yes, I... I had a feeling, and I've been preparing myself to tell you about it, Hwa. But I just didn't know how to say it. I was scared of your reaction." When he attempted to pull away, you reached out, cupping his face to keep him close, "Listen to me, I'm not afraid of you. I... I know you've never had a proper family growing up—both of us, actually—and... I can't help but wonder if you might hate the idea of starting one."
His heart swelled with understanding, realising he had momentarily let his earlier insecurities get the best of him. Of course, you were simply concerned about him. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips before murmuring tenderly, "With another person, I would hate the idea. But with you, my love, I want it all."
Feeling touched by his words, you realised you had never needed to overthink the situation. You should have known that his love and acceptance were unwavering.
Perhaps you had just been overwhelmed by the idea of a tiny life growing inside you—a product of your love with Seonghwa. The thought of having a baby, your baby, filled you with joy and apprehension. Neither of you had experienced a conventional family upbringing, and you feared whether you could provide the love and care this child deserved. Since the first moment you felt sick and figured you might be pregnant, endless questions floated around your mind.
Were you ready?
Was he ready?
What if he didn't want children?
But now, those fears seemed unfounded. As tears welled in your eyes, you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and buried your face against his shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace. He held you close, peppering kisses all over your head, his love and warmth enveloping you. Through your tears, you whispered, "I love you, Hwa."
You could feel his smile against your skin as he leaned his head against yours, his voice soft and reassuring, "I love you more, my wife, and that'll never change."
In the days that followed, you found yourself hardly ever alone. Your husband seemed determined to stay by your side every moment, as if he hadn't already been doing so since he dismissed all his friends. Now, he was even more attentive and vigilant, always ensuring he was nearby to keep watch over you. And whenever he needed to retreat to his study for brief meetings with Jongho, Eunsook remained faithfully by your side.
Today was another one of those days when he had no choice but to attend to some work. He hadn't been attending the daily assemblies for a while, so the least he could do was go through some reports to stay updated on the latest happenings in court.
Meanwhile, the head maid remained by your side in your room. You sat with a cookbook in your hand, diligently trying to learn new recipes. As the saying goes, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and although you already had a hold on Seonghwa's heart, you were determined to work even harder to keep it safe with you.
"You've been quite busy lately, mistress, with cooking and embroidering. I think the master might be getting a bit jealous that you're not as focused on him as you are on these tasks," she joked, gently brushing your hair as she observed your focused expression.
With a playful giggle, you shot her a glance, "Is he really? Well, everything I do, I do it to be a better wife for him and a better mother to this little one," you said, smiling down at your growing bump.
Eunsook's expression softened, "I'm just kidding. I'm sure the master knows that," she reassured before pausing, "Mistress, have you both thought about baby names yet?"
At that, your eyes widened, and you set down the book in your hands, "Oh dear, we haven't. I've been so invested in everything else, it seems I might have overlooked the most important thing."
She chuckled, rubbing your back soothingly, "Don't worry, you still have plenty of time until the little one is born. Perhaps you and the master could start thinking about it now."
Later that night, as you lay in bed next to your husband, the words of the head maid lingered in your mind like a persistent whisper. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on your eyelids, you found yourself unable to sleep as your thoughts drifted towards potential names for the future baby Park. Each name you considered brought with it a flood of emotions and images of what your child might look like, how they would grow, and the kind of person they would become.
Sensing your slight movements, Seonghwa kissed your head softly, his voice gentle, "Are you still awake, my love?"
You grinned sheepishly, patting his chest, "I'm fine, Hwa. You go ahead and sleep. You must be tired."
But he sighed, gently sitting up with you still in his arms, ensuring the comforter covered you, "Not as tired as you. You're carrying a little person. Now, do you want to tell me why you're still not sleeping?"
Smiling shyly, you met his gaze, "I was talking to Eunsook earlier and realised... we haven't thought of any baby names."
His mouth formed an 'O' in realisation, mirroring your surprise. It seemed he, too, had not given it much thought. Nodding slowly, he whispered, "That's right, we haven't," pulling you closer to him, he relished the way your head fits perfectly in the crook of his neck, "So, what do you have in mind then? Have you managed to come up with anything with all that thinking, hm?"
You replied, nervously nibbling on your lip, "Actually, I have thought of a name. If it's a girl, Yeonjoo feels right."
He hummed, considering deeply, "Yeonjoo... like a lotus princess?"
You beamed, "Exactly. She'd be our little princess, growing up in the House of Lotus."
His heart swelled; your choice held significance. It wasn't just a random pretty name; it carried depth. Planting a kiss on your cheek, he smiled, "It's perfect. So, if it's a girl, Yeonjoo it is."
You cheered, "Okay, any ideas for a boy?"
He hesitated, then brightened, "You know what? I do have one in mind, though it might not be as thoughtful as yours. How about Jiyeong? It means a wise and brave hero, and it could also symbolise a flower petal, like the lotus. It'd be wonderful if he grew up to be intelligent and brave enough to protect his eomma," he murmured, gently placing his hand on your bump and stroking it.
"I think Jiyeong is a wonderful choice, Hwa, if it's a boy," you whispered, a sense of relief washing over you now that you finally had names for your child.
Covering his hand on your stomach with yours, you looked up at him with slightly wet eyes, "Gosh, can you believe we're going to be parents in a few months?"
"It's surreal sometimes, my love. And I'll admit, I am a little scared. But I know we'll manage. It won't be easy, but as long as we face it together, we'll be fine."
Yes, I know we will.
The first three months seemed to pass in a whirlwind, with Yunho's weekly visits becoming a familiar routine. Each time, he checked on your condition and brought herbs to boost your health and stabilise the pregnancy, ensuring everything progressed smoothly. Amidst this, life outside your little family continued to unfold.
You recall a particular evening when Wooyoung rushed in, desperate for your husband's aid to rescue a certain Miss Han. In a matter of weeks, she became a temporary resident in your household while still courting the private investigator. Her presence was delightful as she eagerly assisted you in cooking and embroidering, all while awaiting Wooyoung's eventual proposal that would take her away.
And through him, you learned of Hongjoong's latest job, assisting the youngest miss of the Baek family. It appeared to affect the dressmaker unexpectedly, stirring emotions no one had anticipated, especially him, even requiring a little nudge from both Seonghwa and Wooyoung to realise his feelings.
Before you knew it, you found yourself seated in the dining hall, surrounded by your husband's friends. Giving your hand a squeeze, Seonghwa cleared his throat to grab their attention, "Guys," he began, "we've gathered you all here today because we have an announcement to make."
Hongjoong, arms crossed, chimed in, "Pssh, I had a feeling. I knew you wouldn't be treating us to a meal for no reason."
Yunho's knowing grin widened, excited to see the dressmaker's reaction while Wooyoung leaned forward excitedly in his seat, nudging San beside him, who smiled back but inwardly wished the investigator would leave him alone. Mingi promptly set down his wine glass, eager to hear what was to come.
"I hope you're all excited because you're going to be uncles soon," the general announced, prompting cheers from everyone at the table.
The lovely Miss Han, seated beside you, wasted no time in giving you a side hug, though she had already been privy to your little secret. She had even been considerate enough to keep her man in the dark about it.
Wooyoung joined in the celebration, clapping enthusiastically, oblivious that his other half had been aware the whole time, "I knew it! I could tell she was pregnant from my first visit all those months ago. You've been so oddly careful with her ever since!"
At that, Hongjoong's expression darkened, "What do you mean, all those months ago? How far along are you, my lady?"
You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly, "Three months."
The dressmaker's jaw dropped in disbelief, "You didn't think to tell us until now? Park Seonghwa, what kind of friend are you?"
Yunho scoffed and rolled his eyes, "See, that's why you're an idiot. What does Miss Baek even see in you, I'll never know. Obviously, they wanted to wait until her condition was stable before telling everyone. Why do you think I've been so busy for the past few months?"
Hongjoong shot him a glare, "Oh, I don't know? Maybe because you've been trying to spend all your time with a certain Miss Ryu?"
The physician sputtered in shock, but before the argument could escalate, Jongho appeared behind them, smacking both on the back, "That's enough, you two. Please continue this another time."
Your husband interjected, shooting the assistant a grateful smile, "That's right. As Yunho mentioned, we just wanted to wait until it was safe before telling you guys."
San and Mingi softened, offering heartfelt congratulations to you and Seonghwa, prompting the rest of the guys to do the same. However, the peace was short-lived. Wooyoung eagerly raised his hand, "Ooh, can I please be the godfather?"
The dressmaker was quick to object, "Excuse me? If anyone here is to be the godfather, it's obviously me! Know your place, you fool."
"Oh, dear god, here we go again," your husband muttered beside you.
You couldn't help but grin at their endless shenanigans, glancing down at your stomach and rubbing it affectionately. You already knew this baby would be spoiled rotten even before entering the world. It seemed this little one was already the star of the show.
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I contemplated how much of the pregnancy I should cover, but I think I'll only do this much for now! Because any further than this, and that might spoil some of the other members' spinoffs. I shall focus on finishing up all the rest of the stories after this, and who knows? There could be more bonus chapters in the future, we'll see~
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
Tag list (1/6): Tumblr is a bitch and won't let me mention more than 5 users in a single sentence, so now my tag list looks like a complete joke🤡
@huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo |
@sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @skzline |
@itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @xoxkii @avantalem @famishalll |
@soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol |
@atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii |
@ddaeing @sansaurora9904 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo |
@puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks |
@aliona124754 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @1117promises @deltamoon666 |
@st4rhwa @hikarii02 @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @thunderous-wolf |
@minkiflwr @starssongs98 @kawaiikels @en-happiness @cheolliehugs |
@persnyako @startinystay @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina |
@kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja |
@idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @idfkeddieishot @yuyubun
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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ddejavvu · 1 year ago
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i blame you so much for my sudden poly!marauders obsession lolol i genuinely cant find anyone who writes them as good as you do!
but imagine like lily asking fuck marry kill out of the three of them, and you give the obvious “marry all of them” but they keep pressing you for your answer even though they know one of them is gonna get hurt (even if you said a name on purpose as a joke lmao) bonus points if one of them is being so dramatic and just fr lies on the floor pretending to be dead for the rest of the day and being all sulky.
I'm so glad you like the way that I write them!
--
"I'm not choosing," You shake your head, jaw clenched resolutely, "I'd like to marry them all."
"And fuck," Sirius boasts, "'Not gonna get a murder out of her, Lils."
"She's gotta choose," Remus presses, and you've got half a mind to kill him just for the suggestion, "Come on, darling, we won't be upset. S'just a game."
"Fuck," You pause, glancing fearfully between your three partners. Your eyes drop to Sirius's hands, veiny and ringed, and you breathe out, "Sirius. 'Cause- 'cause his hands look nice like that."
"Knew I'd be safe," He brags, blowing you a kiss with the aforementioned handsome hands.
"And marry," You trail off again, looking between James and Remus. Remus is far more nonchalant than James is, looking like he really wouldn't mind if you decided he'd need to perish for a party game. But it's still not fair, and you're terrified of hurting his feelings without knowing just because he put up a front.
"James," You glance fearfully over at the curly-headed boy, who looks elated until he realizes you have more to say, "Last week. You ate the cookie I was saving."
His eyes widen in fear, an endearing shade of sweet brown as he shakes his head. His curls fly and he clasps his hands together in a cartoonish display of begging, "No! No, sweetheart, I'm sorry! Don't do this," He begs, sprawling out over the floor on his belly so that he can stare imploringly up at you from below, "Please, maybe- maybe if we kiss you can still taste it! And I'll make you a dozen more," He tries, grief-stricken at your verdict.
"Tough break," Remus claps James on the back of the thigh, then smooths a soothing touch up his back, "'S okay Prongs, I'd bring flowers to your grave every day, y'know?"
"Better luck next time," Sirius drawls, seeming all too interested in James's current ass-up position - there's a reason you chose him for 'Fuck'.
"I'm sorry, Jamie." You lament, and the man lets himself go limp, eyes fluttering shut and tongue falling out of his mouth in a very dramatic impression of death. You nudge your nose between his curls, bury a kiss on his scalp, and whisper in his ear while you're down there, "I'd like to fuck and marry you too, dear."
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jakeyt · 5 months ago
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Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 2 of 3)
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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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bucknastysbabe · 8 months ago
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imagine how insufferable criston would be if his so was pregnant. she cant do anything. and he would be like maybe we should get married and she would be like why??? and he would be like we are having a baby and she would be like i dont think we should get married just bc we are having a baby??? and he would cry for a week. i like when pretty men suffer
On god he would be so annoying but also I’m just having thots about it and they’ve been multiplying in my head like bacteria. ✨Pretty men suffering✨
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First of all he’s even more possessive bc not only you’re his but you’re carrying his baby
Like gotdamn can’t even walk down the street without Criston putting his arm around you or having a hand on the small of your back and could HE STOP KISSING YOUR CHEEK WE GET IT
So then comes the whining about getting married. He simply doesn’t get coexisting without a ring and you taking his last name. Criston def gets teary when you’re like no???? Like y’all already live together, sleep in the same bed, and you’re literally having criss priss baby
“I don’t understand, don’t you want a big ring, a dress? We never got a honeymoon.” You have to remind him that honeymoon ain’t happening when there’s a baby to be taken care of!!
He’s def audibly sighing and huffing when he’s denied, again. Probably sobs in the shower bc the delusions are being CRUSHED
You think he’s kinda cute with red eyes and nose, his lips swollen. So Criston can get a pity blowie but first he has to be a mother hen and make sure you have a pillow on your knees and are comfy. He’s adorable when he whines and trembles from your mouth.
Sometimes you have to slap him a little when he’s following you around the house just MaKiNg SuRe you’re okay. Literally you just want a bagel.
As you move along in the pregnancy babes gets A Little Feral. I lied he’s insatiable. The man loves your curves and baby weight, not to mention how big your tits are getting. God forbid you’re just standing around doing something because if Criston is around he’s coming up from behind, making a comment about how pretty you are all bred up with his baby.
That also means constant groping— he can’t keep his hands off of you. Especially when Criston’s fucking you on all fours, hand possessively splayed across your rounded belly. He’s practically growling, “Look so fucking good for me, bred you up good didn’t I? When you pop out our baby m’gonna put a ring on your finger and fuck another one in you.” Which you cum quite dramatically at that, his sheer desperation is hot, and his cock is nice. Criston’s a sexy man. Delusional, but sexy.
The marriage talk is brought up again…post-coital bliss? Not in that house. Criston’s pouting, face shoved into your tits. He grumbles, “You’ll get it sooner or later. I’m going to marry you.”
“Yep baby, alright.” *cue more shower crying*
Also he’s ecstatic whether it’s a boy or girl like he’s just happy to be daddy cole🥰
Oh god when your milk comes in Criston is your personal fucking pump. He doesn’t think it’s funny when you ask him if he really likes milking cows this much. Your man is dead serious, “You’re not a cow. You’re perfect and pregnant and a goddess.” Okay go off king
But fr the fucking ramps up to a 10 in the third trimester that man is HORNY!!!!! He got in some trouble with you just mindlessly grabbing your ass at the grocery store. Dumbass had to walk around with a boner in the Walmart baby section
The day you go into labor he’s in full action mode. A true king. Look at him in he scrubs. He’s probably ugly sobbing when you’re holding the babe for the first time. It’s okay though you’re ugly sobbing too. Then the baby is ugly sobbing. Happily ever after😌
No you’re still not marrying his dumbass either
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pedroshotwifey · 6 months ago
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To the Flame chapter fifteen
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Series masterlist
Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader
Chapter w/c: 3.4k
Chapter warnings: physical abuse, like hardcore abuse pls heed the warning, manipulation, mental abuse, toxic relationship, alcohol consumption, alcoholism, description of injury, choking and not in the sexy way, noncon piv sex, noncon fingering, panic attacks, emotional distress, anxiety attacks, this is fucked, please just go in with caution, like fr i don't think i can sum all the fucked up shit in this chapter up
Chapter Summary: Is this the end?
A/N: Hey to everyone who's stuck by this story! This chapter is very intense and I just want to put it here that everything that happens here (and in this story in general) is obviously not okay. I am here if anybody needs to talk about anything at all. Take care of yourselves ❤
*****
You barely see kindness from Javi for the next couple of weeks. It was pretty much the same as the usual, but now you have to spend most nights with a terrifying man you don’t know. Whereas your husband used to come home, tired from work but still kind, there’s now a stranger who seems to not care at all. It’s happened so fast—the switch—that you think you may be in a perpetual state of shock. It’s hard to comprehend, but the difference is there. Easy to see when you just open your eyes. The biggest you’ve seen is how his first move once he gets home, is always to the fridge or the liquor cabinet. By dinner, he’s usually at least a few beers or glasses of whiskey deep, and by bed, he’s drunk enough to be slurring his speech and forgetting whatever he says the second it’s out of his mouth. 
A couple of nights, he comes home a bit later, and you suspect that he’s been to the bar on those days because he comes home already drunk off his ass. You don’t know what’s worse—watching the buildup or being hit with dread as soon as he walks through the door. There have been a couple days where comes home and doesn’t touch a drop, and you savor them. Those precious moments you get with him when you know he’s listening to you and giving you his time instead of the alcohol.You like to just pretend that everything is okay on those days, because blissful ignorance is better than ruining those good moments by thinking about the bad. Knowing you have days like that, though, makes it so much worse when you go to him, wanting to talk or simply be around him, and then feel the disappointment when it sinks in that he’s already gone. 
It hurts every time he does it, because it makes you feel alone again. You’ve come to understand that he turns into a different person when he drinks, a person you don’t know. This new person—this stranger—likes to hurt you. He’s rageful and hateful and relentless and overpowering. You take a sip of your coffee from where you’re currently sitting at the kitchen table and shiver at the memory of just last night, when he’d fucked you deep into the mattress and spilled within minutes before collapsing on top of you, dead asleep. You keep telling yourself that you wanted it, but you know better. You’d told him no, and when he ignored you, you’d gotten scared. So you let it happen. It’s your own fault for being weak and you know it. 
Besides, that voice in your pounding head challenges, what kind of a woman doesn’t want to make love to her husband? What kind of woman doesn’t want to feel her lover’s touch?
It shames you both ways. Not wanting him but letting him take what he wants anyway. You think that you might be doing it because fighting would make it real. If you just let it happen, he’s not taking anything from you. Maybe if you just let it happen, he’ll stop.
Lies, that other part of your brain spits at you. The more logical one. 
You take another sip to smooth out the knot that’s formed in your throat. You pretend that it was never there. You’ve been doing a lot of that lately. 
It seems like every day gets worse. He gets meaner and he takes more and more. You can tell that there’s something making him do it, something controlling the impulse to pick up that bottle and down the entire thing. You wish desperately that he would just talk to you, or that you at least knew what it was so that you could help, but you’re just as useless with that as you are everything else. You want to kill the stranger inside of him. You want to pull him out and gut him and hurt him in every way he’s hurt you. You just want your Javi back. 
But even then, it wouldn’t be the same, and you’re painfully aware of that. It’s still awful and wrong, even now, in those moments he is there. When the Javi you know and love is dormant and there to hold you like nothing’s wrong. The worst part because you don’t know if he remembers everything he does to you. It doesn’t make sense, because you know he sees the bruises that cover your body some days, the way you have to limp when you’re too sore to walk right. You see the glint in his eye when he reaches for you and you flinch away. He can see the physical bruises just as well as your mental wounds, but he acts oblivious, like he’s not to blame for your pain. 
You ignore the tear that slips down your cheek as you catch yourself caught up in it again. It’s so fucking hurtful and confusing. You want to pretend, too. Pretend that none of it ever happened, but you’re the one who has to wear the consequences, so you have no choice but to face them. 
You asked him one morning, when you’d woken up and caught him sober as he was getting ready for work, why he’d hit you the night before. The night before when he’d stripped you and taken you to bed and covered your mouth with his hand when you began to sob. You didn’t mean to, but as you’d tried to get him to stop, you felt skin between your teeth. Just to see if he remembered, you asked him. You know you shouldn’t have, but you were so tired and the hole in your stomach was so large that you needed to know. Just to see if you could find an excuse to forgive him and close it up.
But Javi had stopped and watched you for a moment before his eyes darkened and he looked at you like he was angry at you. “You fucking bit me. What did you think was going to happen?” 
You’d just laid back down and let the tears ease you back to sleep. He knows what he does. You know he does. He just doesn’t care. But why? Why doesn’t he care? Regret it? Feel sorry? What happened?
You’ve become numb with each day that passes, more accepting of the fact that you need to stop letting your emotions control you. The anger, the fear, the hatred. You can still feel it lingering somewhere deep inside of you, waiting for the right moment to pounce, but you’re content to just ignore it for now. Ignore everything that makes you question why. It’s like a tightness around your heart, a shield that went up without your permission. And maybe it’s for the best, but you wish it would drop at least a little, because you feel like you haven’t been able to be yourself around Javi in days. You can tell he sees it, too. But he never says anything. Does he even care that you’re changing, that he’s the one who’s changed you?
You set your now-cold coffee down and look out the window. How the fuck did you get here? You’re so tired of your every day being this. Alone in the apartment, and then scared when you’re not. Sometimes, you don’t know what’s worse. There’s days when you get the idea to just leave, but you know better. You can’t. Your husband is still here, somewhere. You can’t leave him because it would break your heart completely, and not being around him at all is something you can’t handle. And even if he wasn’t, that man who’s replaced him would find you. You know it in your gut that he would. 
You let out a shaky sigh, brush away your tears, and stand up. At least you have things to do today instead of sitting in silence. As far as you know, Steve and Connie are still coming over Sunday night for dinner. The house isn’t too messy, since you usually start your days with tidying up the mess from the night before, but there are things that can be cleaned more thoroughly. The kitchen needs to be scrubbed, the living room tidied. 
Javi had woken you up before he left this morning and asked what you plan on making. He’s going to bring the ingredients home tonight so that everything will be ready for you to start tomorrow. You’re actually excited about that. Not just about seeing people again, but also about putting together an elaborate meal. Recently, it’s been whatever kind of soups or sandwich stuff that Javi brings home for you to make. It’s been too long since you made something more complex than a casserole. 
You bring your mug to the sink and start with that, rinsing it and placing it on the side with the rest of the dirty dishes. You take one look at the massive pile and decide you’ll do that last. You absolutely despise doing the dishes, Besides, leaving it for last will be more rewarding once the pile is gone and everything is officially spotless. 
You start instead with the living room, and then the bathroom, and then the bedroom. It takes all day, but you’re proud of the result by the time you’re ready for the kitchen. It all looks as good as the first time you cleaned it, not a speck of dust in sight, everything in its rightful place. You’re proud of yourself, and catch yourself genuinely smiling as you make your way to the dishes. 
You’re in the kitchen, filling up the sink with water, when he gets home. Keys rattle in the door, making you jump in surprise. It’s only then that you notice it’s gone dark outside. Your eyes flick up to the clock, and your stomach churns when you see the time. It’s almost 12:00am. It shouldn’t take that long to go to the grocery store. You know immediately where he’s been. Your body goes taught as you hear the door shut behind him. He doesn’t announce himself, but you can hear his heavy footsteps as he walks through the house to get to you. They sound wrong, like he’s stumbling. 
Your hands begin to shake as you push the faucet to stop the running water and wipe them down on your shirt. You feel more than see Javi’s broad form stop in the doorway beside you, and you contemplate greeting him, but you don’t know how his day’s been so you don’t want to start anything if he wants silence. 
You pick up one of the plates from the pile beside the sink and dunk it slowly into the water before pouring a bit of soap on it, continuing to avoid eye contact with your husband. The gentle scrub of the sponge against the ceramic and the occasional drip of excess water is the only sound to be heard throughout the house. 
You can feel his eyes on you, and you have to physically resist the urge to squirm beneath his heavy gaze. You just try to keep your breathing steady and focus on your task. 
“Not going to ask me how my day was?” Javi’s voice is hard. Cold. It makes you shiver. Wrong choice, then.
“How was your day?” Your voice in contrast is meek even as you look at him and flash a smile. So small it makes you want to slap yourself. You just blink and keep washing the plate in your hands. 
Javi sighs loudly as he leans against the door frame, as if thinking it over. “How was your day, sweetheart?” He starts to walk toward you, coming up behind you and putting his hands on your waist, ducking down a bit to press his lips to your neck.
“It was fine,” you say, though there’s a pang of hurt as you wish so badly that he was asking genuinely. That he wanted to talk to you, wanted to be here with you. 
He nods against you, his hands traveling down to your waistband. You squirm a bit but try to hold still in hopes that he’ll just stop. “Just fine, hm? I can make it better.” Your eyes shut. Of course he wouldn’t. 
“No, thank you, my day was good. I’m just tired.” You start to push his hands off of you, but he doesn’t allow it. 
“Well, I didn’t have a very good day,” he counters. “I was looking forward to coming home and fucking my sweet, pretty little wife, ‘n’ then she tells me she doesn’t want me.” 
Irritation prickles at your neck, warring with the fear that’s made a home there already. “That’s not what I said, Javi, and you know it.” 
“Oh, but it is.” He pulls you tighter, slipping one hand down your shorts to feel your panties. You whimper, trying to get out of his grasp. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, baby. Fucking scared. disgusted” 
You freeze against him. 
“I don’t want you to be scared, sweetheart,” he coos. He brings the hand that’s not cupping your pussy up to your cheek, brushing away a tear with his thumb. “But your tears are so fucking sweet that I just can’t help myself sometimes.” 
You shake as he slowly brings his thumb up to your lips, pressing harder and harder until you’re forced to let him in and taste the salty drop on your tongue. 
“I do it for you, baby. You know it’s all for your own good.” He makes your head nod up and down with the hand grasping your chin. “Just gotta keep you safe.” 
He pulls his thumb from your mouth, a quiet sob leaving you as he does so. He grasps your hip again and grinds your ass into his erection. “And you don’t even care to show your thanks.” He tuts, and even the mock disappointment in his tone makes you want to crumble and cry. “Thought you were better ‘n that, sweetheart.” 
You’re gasping in quiet and shallow breaths at this point, your face heated with shame. You know it’s not him talking, but you can’t help but hate yourself for what he’s telling you. You’re a disappointment. He thought you were better. You’re a screwup to him just like you are for everyone else. The voices and taunts swirl around in your head until you’re so overwhelmed that you have to close your eyes to settle them. 
“Stop!” The ferocity in your voice surprises even you. The anger and hurt revealed is raw and visceral, out in the open for him to catch a glimpse of what you’re feeling inside. “Get your hands off me, Javi.” 
He chuckles darkly into your hair, his hand now coming to your throat. You swallow thickly and stiffen as he loosely wraps it around your neck, holding you close to him. He doesn’t apply pressure, but it’s enough to make you bite your tongue to stifle anything else that might want to slip out. 
“I don’t think you’re really in a position to be demanding things, baby,” he says the words gently. “Why don’t you try asking nicely.” 
You blink, and all you can think is that you’re so fucking tired. “Please let me go,” you give in and whisper. 
“What was that?” His hand tightens ever so slightly, and then slackens again. You eye his booted foot next to yours, and get the idea to stomp on it, but you know why that’s not a good idea. You speak up.
“I said, please let me—” 
He tightens his grip, crushing your windpipe as he holds to the point where you can’t draw a breath. “Thought I fuckin’ told you who was in charge,” his voice comes to your ringing ears. He keeps still as you struggle, even though you’re trying your hardest not to. “Don’t make me have to remind you, sweetheart. I don’t like to see you hurt, but I can’t promise anything if you keep acting so high and fucking mighty.” 
He lets you go, and you practically collapse against him. He wraps his arms around you and you lose it. 
“Leave me alone, you fucking bastard!” You scream at him with the first breath you can manage, spinning around and backing away as you push and hit at him, trying to get his arms off of you. If you can just get away, maybe you can lock yourself in the bedroom and wait until he’s taken his anger out on something else. You don’t feel bad at all as you claw at him. You manage to get an arm loose and you use it to land a slap to his face. His hold on you loosens the slightest bit, and you use the chance to scramble away even as your stomach drops as you realize what you just did.  
You should have known better. It all happens in slow motion as your head comes into contact with the lip of the counter, right by the sink. He’s forced you back around and is now folded over you, using one hand to shove your shorts down and the other to pin the back of your neck down. “Fucking bitch!” he yells into your ear, and you know that you just made this worlds worse for yourself. 
You heave wet sobs as he brings his fingers to your bare cunt and roughly shoves two inside, your hips bucking as you try to get away. You’re yelling something as well, something that sounds a lot like ‘stop’, over and over again. 
You can’t focus on whatever words are spilling from his mouth now, only on the ringing on your ears and the water sloshing around in the sink only about an inch away from you. A jolt of deeper fear runs through you as you catch the gleam of it, and you scream and cry louder and struggle even harder, trying to do something, anything, before Javi gets the idea that just flashed through your head. 
Maybe it was your own fault with all the screaming, or maybe he saw it at the same time you did, but his hand on your neck starts to move higher, until it’s on the back of your head. You resist as much as you can, not even feeling his defiling fingers anymore as your nose touches the soapy water and pieces of your hair grow heavy as they soak it up. You can tell the second you’re going to lose the fight, and you realize that you’ve never been so terrified in your life. 
Between the sobs and screams and tears, you don’t get much of a breath before you’re being submerged. Your body flails wildly, and you think in that second that you’re going to die. He’s going to kill you. The terror running through your body is indescribable. You just want to scream but you can’t. You want to close your eyes and go before you lose the small breath you have and water floods your lungs. It feels like a nightmare, like it’s not real, can’t be happening to you. But it is, and you don’t understand why. What the fuck did you do to deserve this? 
You push and push up with all your might, using your hands against the counter and your entire body to try to lift your head, but he keeps his hand on top, not letting you breathe the surface no matter what. You feel so pathetic as your body shakes with silent cries that you’re forced to hold in through the panic.
You almost forget about everything else until you feel his cock push inside of you, and you scream. You forget, and upon the burning sensation as he forces himself into you, you open your mouth and take in gulps of water. Your body surges with pain and fear as the burn spreads up to your chest and then to the rest of your body. 
This is the end, this is the end, this is the end. 
Everything you’ve ever known will be gone. Your family probably won’t even know what happened, won’t care. Nobody will. Maybe Javi will eventually, if he ever comes back. Your vision starts to go black, and your body slackens, your hands falling uselessly as you lose the energy to fight. He’s going to hate himself, you realize. And that thought may hurt you most of all. He’s going to be alone, just like you. You won’t be there to help him. Your Javi is going to be devastated. 
That’s the last thing through your mind as your consciousness fades to black. 
*****
The end.
******
LMAO JK
Next chapter will be up next Friday 😘
Series taglist:  @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy
@survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff  @missladym1981 @sofiparallel
@koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi
@justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-blog @glitterymanboy @letstalkaboutshtufff
@untamedheart81
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diorsluv · 11 months ago
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feather , christmas special
“ all i want for christmas is you ”
series m. list
nhl + umich x platonic!drysdale!reader,
luke hughes x fem!reader,
temporary male!oc x fem!reader
( socialmedia!au )
jamie.drysdale
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liked by yourusername, dylanduke25, lhughes_06, and 58,021 others
jamie.drysdale happy 20th birthday lil sis..
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
edwards.73 aww you were best friends when you were kids…. what happened
→ jamie.drysdale she got too annoying
→ yourusername he became “one of the boys” 🙄
yourusername u dont seem too happy abt me turning 20
→ jamie.drysdale ur one year away from being 21 and that means i have to take care of u when u get drunk
→ trevorzegras he started crying to me about how he didn’t want you to grow up
→ jamie.drysdale LIES trevorzegras
username63 I AM SOBBING SO HARD RN THIS IS TOO CUTE
markestapa thanks for the childhood pics that i def won’t post when she least expects it
→ jamie.drysdale anytime 🫡
→ yourusername HEY HEY NO
_alexturcotte
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liked by jackhughes, yourusername, trevorzegras, and 32,332 others
_alexturcotte happy birthday to miss mini drysdale and i hope you enjoyed your photoshoot (i took all the pics) 🥳🥳
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
yourusername my own personal photographer 🥰
→ _alexturcotte you’re lucky you’re my fav girl
→ yourusername AWWW STOP ITTT
colecaufield yes and i brought the props
luca.fantilli i don’t think you should trust her with a torch
→ yourusername I’M VERY RESPONSIBLE
username49 THE TIARAAAA
username57 i love how they all post her at the same exact time
jackhughes be careful, remember how her dress lit on fire last time?
→ yourusername THAT WAS YOU THO????
→ _quinnhughes but it was kinda your fault jack
→ lhughes_06 dude YOU were the one that dropped a lit candle on her skirt
→ jackhughes okay i didn’t need you to gang up on me 😟
rutgermcgroarty
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likes by yourusername, adamfantilli, colecaufield, and 59,795 others
rutgermcgroarty happy birthday to the best drysdale 🍰
tagged: yourusername
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yourusername aw i AM the best drysdale 🥱
→ rutgermcgroarty ok now dont gotta get all cocky about it
username54 all the phones 😭😭
username25 the second pic is giving best girl energy
adamfantilli that cake genuinely scared the shit out of me
→ yourusername it’s just sparklers 🙄
markestapa you made us sing happy birthday for her 6 times.
→ rutgermcgroarty well you all sounded bad
→ mackie.samo you were the one that was off key tho???
username38 her bday looks so funnn
colecaufield
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liked by trevorzegras, jackhughes, yourusername, and 45,239 others
colecaufield happy birthday even tho we don’t see each other enough so i had to use pics from your 18th birthday 😒
tagged: yourusername
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_alexturcotte imagine not being able to see her
→ colecaufield ok little buddy you don’t see her any more than i do
→ jackhughes literally could not be me (it’s torture)
yourusername I’LL COME TO SEE YOU MORE OFTEN COUGH SYRUP 🥰🥰
→ colecaufield i take it back i don’t want you coming near me
→ trevorzegras i started “cough syrup” u gotta give me credits
→ yourusername no i did it first stop trying to steal my genius ideas
username36 the heart shaped balloon is adorableee
luca.fantilli her 18th bday was 🔥🔥
→ lhughes_06 bro u werent even there
→ edwards.73 u didnt even know her
→ yourusername it’s okay guys he just wants to fit in #fomo
_quinnhughes
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liked by luca.fantilli, yourusername, rutgermcgroarty, and 75,239 others
_quinnhughes i helped secretly decorate her apartment for her 20th birthday and you didn’t. we are not the same 🥱🥱
tagged: yourusername
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yourusername since when did you start bragging about me
→ _quinnhughes since rn
→ yourusername i’ll take it ig……
username47 THE FLOWERS AAAAA
username19 guys have you noticed how dead silent booker’s been
→ username58 fr he hasn’t commented at all or posted anything abt her 😭
jackhughes i helped too
→ _quinnhughes shut up no u didnt
→ yourusername let him have his moment jack, he doesn’t get a lot of them
dylanduke25
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liked by yourusername, adamfantilli, mackie.samo, and 24,136 others
dylanduke25 took her out to eat then surprised her with the best pizza she’s ever eaten for her bday 💪
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
mackie.samo your handwriting is atrocious
→ dylanduke25 wbk tell me something i don’t know 🙄
username34 oh! candles on pizza!
username15 mcdonalds on ur bday >>>>>
yourusername the pizza was cold asf but that’s okay!!!!!!
→ dylanduke25 hard as a rock
→ markestapa WOAHHH THERE DUKER 🤨🤨
→ dylanduke25 bro stop making it weird
→ lhughes_06 fr
trevorzegras they always say the way to a woman’s heart is through food
→ yourusername but do they say that tho….??
username93 best gift ever frfr
markestapa
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liked by yourusername, edwards.73, lhughes_06, and 65,297 others
markestapa HAPPY BIRTHDAY LIL DRIZZY
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
yourusername OH MY FUCKING GOD. THIS IS THE BEST ONE YET LMFAOOOO
→ markestapa LETS FUCKING GO I WIN
mackie.samo goddammit i knew i should’ve done this instead
→ markestapa loserrrr
username32 oh my……
_quinnhughes what the hell is this
jamie.drysdale i’m ashamed to say i think you know my sister better than i do
→ markestapa no no her edward cullen phase was a difficult time for all of us
→ jamie.drysdale i’ve blocked out all the trauma
→ yourusername you’re all haters
trevorzegras
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liked by jamie.drysdale, _quinnhughes, yourusername, and 89,027 others
trevorzegras i spent 5 hours secretly decorating and making these cupcakes and i survived all the weird stares i got for walking straight past the christmas section SO BE GRATEFUL. oh and happy birthday i guess
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
yourusername i was so confused why jack and quinn wouldn’t let me in my own room for those five hours.. but yes yes i’m so grateful AND THE CUPCAKES ARE MAGNIFICENT
→ trevorzegras at least SOMEONE appreciates my efforts
→ _alexturcotte trevor you almost popped like half the balloons from blowing them up too much
username61 why did i just now realize that her birthday is on christmas
colecaufield wait i thought ian somerhalder was supposed to be on one of the cupcakes
→ trevorzegras who???
→ trevorzegras OH THE HOT GUY FROM THE BLOODSUCKER SHOW
→ yourusername fr i was kinda expecting tom blyth too but it’s okay
username30 LOUIS PARTRIDGEEEE
mackie.samo
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liked by lhughes_06, yourusername, adamfantilli, and 53,928 others
mackie.samo i tried going the “aesthetic” route for u but clearly u like the rob pattinson ones more 🙄🙄 happy birthday mini drysdale
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
yourusername BUT YOU HELPED WITH THE SURPRISE PARTY AND I LOVE THAT SO MUCH MORE
→ mackie.samo HAHA IN UR FACE markestapa
→ markestapa WHAT NO I HELPED WITH THE PARTY TOO
_quinnhughes the amount of tiaras we’ve given her is concerning
→ yourusername i like them thoughhh ☺️
→ jamie.drysdale you know how she is with her tiaras
→ yourusername I STOPPED WEARING THEM WHEN I WAS 8 AND YOU KNOW THAT
username57 the way it’s turned into a competition 💀
edwards.73
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liked by markestapa, adamfantilli, yourusername, and 57,294 others
edwards.73 pics from the birthday girl’s afterparty bc everyone else is unoriginal
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
yourusername wait til you see jack’s post 😭
→ edwards.73 wait WHAT
username44 good lord how many parties are there lmaooo
→ yourusername you don’t even wanna know
jackhughes oh please you weren’t even there for the pre-party
→ edwards.73 WHAT PRE-PARTY??
→ yourusername don’t worry ethan i didn’t know about it either until i was there 😭😭
→ edwards.73 how come i wasn’t invited 😒
trevorzegras since when was there an afterparty???????
→ yourusername yeah i don’t think they invited you..
→ trevorzegras WHO??
→ yourusername uhh mark, mackie, moosey, duker, rut, luca and adam
→ jackhughes it’s fine z they weren’t invited to the pre-party anyway
luca.fantilli
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liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, mackie.samo, and 85,872 others
luca.fantilli more pics of this kid at her afterparty 🤷‍♂️ happy 20th birthday
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
edwards.73 ur actually so unoriginal
→ yourusername he idolizes u 🤩🤩🤩
→ luca.fantilli shut up
username12 wait that cake is so cool
username47 new tiara every post LMAO
yourusername “this kid” is crazy
→ luca.fantilli i am older than u tho
→ yourusername NOT EVEN BY A YEAR
→ luca.fantilli I’M LIKE 5 DAYS OFF
jackhughes
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liked by _quinnhughes, yourusername, trevorzegras, and 94,782 others
jackhughes happy birthday to our christmas girl (our pre-party was on christmas eve) 🥳🥳
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
yourusername i think i maxxed out my cake consumption
→ jackhughes good thing you ate our cake first
username27 are you telling me she had THREE parties 😦
→ yourusername yes. THREE of them.
→ username27 girl you are stronger than i’ll ever be
edwards.73 wtvvv the pre-party sounds like it was lame
→ lhughes_06 ngl it might’ve been better than the afterparty
→ dylanduke25 LUKE YOU WERE AT THE PRE-PARTY????
→ lhughes_06 oops
username16 birthday princess turned birthday queen i loveeeeee
adamfantilli
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liked by jamie.drysdale, luca.fantilli, yourusername, and 48,396 others
adamfantilli HAPPY BIRTHDAY LIL DRIZZ! i hope you enjoy your birthday and that baby pic i definitely didn’t steal from your brother
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
username34 jamie has started the attack of the baby pics
yourusername the shrek photos 😦😦 my sweet sweet adam what have they done to you
→ adamfantilli many many things 😔
markestapa im ngl 4 year old lil drizzy was dripped out
→ adamfantilli fr
→ yourusername FR
→ jamie.drysdale no… no she wasn’t
username6 i need someone to post shrek on my birthday
luca.fantilli i can’t believe you posted two whole pics of her on her bday
→ yourusername you’re just toooooo funny 😒
lhughes_06
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liked by yourusername, _quinnhughes, edwards.73, and 97,290 others
lhughes_06 hit em with the annual birthday sleepover 🥱 happy 20th birthday lil drizzy, ur finally my age
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
yourusername i’ve always been your age 🙄
→ lhughes_06 mmmm but barely
→ yourusername I EXPECTED MORE FROM YOU
→ lhughes_06 i bought you $200 worth of gifts u just havent opened them all yet
username72 HE GAVE HER A FULL CROWN INSTEAD OF A TIARA AW
jackhughes she stopped letting me and quinn sleep over when we turned 13 but how come u still get to do it 🤨
→ lhughes_06 i’m the favorite
→ yourusername wbk tbh
username84 THE POSSIBILITIES ARE LOW BUT NEVER ZERO
rutgermcgroarty is that why you kicked the rest of us out after the afterparty 😞
→ lhughes_06 yes
→ yourusername can’t break tradition!
_quinnhughes hey hey no funny business alright
→ lhughes_06 bro she has a literal bf
→ yourusername all we do is gossip and give each other facials
→ lhughes_06 DON’T SAY THAT yourusername
→ luca.fantilli luke do you have something to tell us…?
username75 luke is secretly a girl
→ username12 or secretly a simp
→ username71 i dont think hes “secretly” any of those things 😭😭
yourusername
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liked by lhughes_06, jamie.drysdale, colecaufield, and 99,117 others
yourusername thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday and to everyone who celebrated me turning 20 years old!! and ofc thank you to a certain someone who always stays up until exactly 12 am to wish me happy birthday first 🫢 also merry christmas and happy holidays, i love you all mwahhhh!
view all comments
jackhughes i wonder who that someone could be 🤔
→ trevorzegras huh i think their name seemed to have slipped my mind
→ _alexturcotte it’s so weird usually i don’t forget
→ colecaufield i can’t believe none of us can remember
→ _quinnhughes you’re all painfully obvious
lhughes_06 wow the special shoutout 😱
→ yourusername ik ur just so lucky
username26 so let’s run it back to booker and the fact that he’s been completely silent throughout ALL of this
→ username48 fr like where is bro
username3 isn’t that the crown luke gave her
mackie.samo we’ll throw an even better party next year
→ yourusername i’m looking forward to it 🫣
notes ) so.. i actually struggled trying to find good pics and ALMOST NONE OF THEM MATCH EACH OTHER lmaooo but yes here is the christmas special i promised and ik no one posts actual insta posts for someone elses bday but it was more fun writing it that way n i hope u all like it!! (lightly proofread so if there are any mistakes i apologize 😭)
tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot
267 notes · View notes
m-jelly · 9 months ago
Note
Hiiii there! I LOVE YOUR WORKS SO MUCH!!!! I got into AOT just a couple of days ago and stumble upon your works and I love how you write the characters!!!!
I can't help but ask if it's okay to request for Levi x reader, where the reader is like a legal advisor for the survey corps, she would often come to meetings and they would come to them for legal matters and she's highly intelligent and Levi is impressed and starts falling for the reader and the veterans like Hange and Erwin notices it and decided to help Levi with confessing. Maybe add in a little bit of the 104th cadets.
That's all but also one last thing is that please take care of yourself and don't overwork yourself. Thank you!!!
Thank you so much! You're so sweet anon and I'm glad you like my oneshots <3 Take care of yourself too.
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@ladycheesington <3
Love and legal.
Levi x fem!reader
Canon world, fluff, romance, falling in love, flustered Levi, confessions, legal advisor reader.
Levi starts going to the legal meetings and falls in love with you. He wants to ask you out, but he's not sure how to go about it. So, with the help of the vets, he takes his first journey in love.
@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird
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The moment he fell in love with you was like a click in his head. For a while now he'd been coming to meetings that you were in. As you spoke about legal information he was impressed. After thinking about your wonderful brain, he started to notice your looks and how you smiled. Every little thing you did was incredible and cute. He adored how you smiled, laughed, spoke and smelt.
The feelings Levi had for you he was very new to. Love and attraction were not a familiar thing to him, so having these feelings build up was surprising. It was clear to him that he needed to be cautious because one false move with something he wasn't familiar with and he could lose you. He wasn't even certain if you held affection for him, but you seemed to laugh, smile and talk to him a lot more. Plus, you gave him lingering touches.
After one meeting he decided to make a small move, which was to escort you out of the base and back home. He released a long shaky breath as you said bye to the others and walked towards Levi. Levi stammered your name causing you to smile at him.
You hummed a little laugh. "Everything okay?"
He gulped hard. "C-Can I uh...escort y-you home?"
You moved closer to him. "I would like that."
"G-Great."
Erwin waved Levi over. "Levi, a quick word before you go?"
Levi nodded. "Sure."
You smiled. "I'll wait outside for you."
He gave you a tiny smile. "Y-Yes." As soon as you left he hurried over to Erwin, Hange and Mike. "What?"
Erwin placed his hand on Levi's shoulder. "Confidence, Levi. She clearly likes you back. Don't push your own boundaries, okay? If you're not ready to ask her out, don't push yourself."
"Mm, but I want her."
Mike chuckled. "Just go for it. Talk to her on the walk and at the end by her door ask her on a date."
Hange clasped her hands. "Yes! Ask her out on a tea date! You both love tea or you could ask her to go to the local bookstore."
Levi's brows furrowed as he thought about everyone's advice. "Confidence. Ask her out at the end. Recommend tea or a bookstore."
Erwin patted Levi's shoulder. "Perfect. You've got this."
Levi released another long sigh. "I've got this."
Hange leaned closer. "Remember, she likes you. I can tell she does. You've got this."
"I've got this." He clicked his neck and then left the room. He made his way out to see you stood with a little gathering around you. Levi could feel his cheeks burning when he observed them making a big fuss about you. "Tch, oi you lot? Shouldn't you be training?"
Connie saluted. "Captain! Sorry, we just wanted to talk to this lady. We see her here all the time."
Sasha grinned. "She gave me a snack."
Levi huffed. "Don't take snacks from her."
"But."
You walked over to Levi. "It's okay. I don't mind feeding them. I always have snacks on me anyway."
Levi's cheeks burned at how cute you were. "That's always good to have."
"I think so too." You turned to Armin. "I'll come back and we can talk a bit more about law."
Armin bowed to you a little. "Thank you. I look forward to it."
You waved to the small group of 104th cadets. "Bye, all! Lovely to see you."
Connie gasped. "She's the Captain's girlfriend!"
Levi's cheeks went pink at the comment. "L-Let's go."
You hummed a laugh as you walked with Levi. "I'm your girlfriend according to them."
Levi shivered. "A-Ah, yes."
You nibbled your lip. "Sounds rather nice." You moved closer to him. "Being your girlfriend that is."
Levi nodded at your comment. "I-It does."
"So, what do you think?"
He gulped hard as he walked. "Well, uh...I would...I ah..."
You reached over and lightly squeezed his hand. "Sorry if you feel pressured."
"I-I don't, I just...you fluster me."
"I do?"
He gripped your hand stopping you from letting go. "Good kind. I uh...I like you."
You rubbed your thumb against his soft skin. "I like you too."
He slowed down when he saw your home. "I uh...I don't want to get to your house because it means our walk is over."
You hummed. "I don't want to say goodbye either."
He looked into your eyes. "Date."
You stared at Levi and saw him wince. "Date?"
He lowered his head. "I was meant to ask you out in a smoother way. Ah...I want...would you like a date? Tea or a bookshop? Maybe both?"
You leaned closer and kissed his cheek. "How about tomorrow?"
He lightly touched his cheek. "Yes please."
"How about at eleven?"
"Yes. I'll come and pick you up."
You smiled. "Perfect. I can't wait."
100 notes · View notes
fiendishfables · 6 months ago
Note
what do you think about maybe an one shot of gwen accompanying her gf to get a piercing? it can be any piercing, up to you 🫶 doesn’t have to be long or anything just something that came to mind
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Just a pinch
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pairing: Gwen Stacy x Fem! Reader
warnings: pure fluff, needles, wholesomeness, Gwen being an amazing gf, cursing, the piercer is a real one fr
genre: fluff + comfort
words: 2.4k+
a/n: I can't write anything short, apologies-This idea is so cute! I love Gwen sm, she is an absolute sweetheart; I can see her doing something like this for sure. She'd be your biggest fan! <3
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"Okay, brace yourself! You will soon be entering the land of pain and sparkle!"
"Oh joy, Gwen."
A piercing was not meant to be on the agenda for the day. It was supposed to be, in fact, a fun day out; that consisted of hanging out with your girlfriend at the local mall downtown. Most of your time was spent in the arcade, where Gwen refused to move from her spot at one of the claw machines until she won you a spiderman-themed teddy bear.
After that was all said and done, the two of you had continued on your way throughout the mall, stopping in many of the various shops to explore any of the little wonders they provided. You were able to prevent Gwen from spending all of her available cash on gifts for you despite her complaining, reminding her that she already broke a sweat for you when trying to get the teddy bear from the claw machine. She relented eventually, but as soon as the both of you came across the small piercing shop, Gwen instantly pulled you inside and straight to the front desk, hand tightly gripping yours.
Of course, she had asked you first before even speaking to the worker, but when you said you'd love to get a matching piercing with her, you could've sworn her whole face lit up. For the longest time she had been trying to get you to also get your eyebrow pierced; it was almost like a moment in history for her. She wasted no time in requesting an appointment upfront for you after that; she then quickly ushered you to a seat in the waiting area.
Many thoughts were swirling throughout your head as you silently assessed the situation you found yourself in, heart beginning to pick up speed as the minutes ticked by. Somehow, Gwen had managed to convince you to get an eyebrow piercing; the same as what she had, so the two of you could be 'brow bros'. Her words, not yours.
And now here you both found yourselves.
Currently sitting in the waiting area, awaiting the call of your name from the woman who claimed to be the one in charge of your appointment; to come out from the back of the shop and alert you that it was indeed your turn to stick a needle in dangerously close proximity to your eyeball.
"I am so excited for you! You're going to look great!" Gwen said, ecstatically smiling in your direction. She had been trying to encourage you for the past ten minutes, as she attempted to calm any last minute nerves you might be clinging on to whilst you waited.
"Are you sure its not going to hurt a whole bunch?" You asked, an eyebrow raised in an almost skeptical mannerism. You trusted Gwen with your whole heart, but sometimes she tended to underexaggerate certain situations. "They are putting a needle pretty close to my eye, y'know? Last time I checked, the two don't necessarily form a good blend."
"I promise, it feels like nothing. Just a pinch!"
"Just a pinch? Really?"
"Really! When have I ever lied to you?"
"You really can't just let me win one debate, can you?"
"Maybe if you asked nicely I'd be more willing."
"Shut up."
You could practically hear Gwen smirking from right beside you without even having to turn your head; the thought made you smirk as well. Your fingers twiddled around one another at an attempt of distracting yourself from the nerves bubbling up within your chest. Whether it was your first piercing or not, the anticipation of waiting to get a needle stuck in your skin was enough to get anyone antsy.
How long had it been since you'd sat down? Five minutes? Ten? Fifteen? However many, you didn't really want to think about it. The longer you had to wait, the worse the nerves buzzed.
Without warning, Gwen gently grabbed your fidgety hands in her own, giving them a gentle squeeze of what was probably meant to be comfort. A quizzical look overcame your features when you looked up and saw her seemingly serious expression.
"Hey...you don't have to do this, you know? If its making you too nervous or anything, we can always come back another time." She said, affection lacing with concern within her eyes.
You looked around the expanse of the small store then back to her, confused by her sudden change in behavior. "What? Why-"
"I know you only do that when you get stressed out or nervous." She explained, referring to all the movements you'd been making with your fingers only seconds prior. "I'm sorry if I pressured or pushed you into this; you don't have to go through with it if you're not ready or don't want to.
"Oh. Gwen-"
"You won't hurt my feelings!" She quickly assured you, holding her palms up as if in a mock surrender. "I can go up to the desk right now and tell them-"
"Gwen!" You said, louder now than you'd previously been speaking. She looked at you surprised, then bashfully, realizing she had begun to ramble. You never did like it when she tended to get too deep into her own head; but you also liked to remind her that it's what made her so unique.
A deep breath came and left your lungs as you looked her over briefly, seeing as her hands were practically crushing yours in their grip. You offered a squeeze of your own, helping release some of the tension from your knuckles.
"I want to do this, okay?" You looked at her for a good second, wanting to be sure she heard the affirmation. "You didn't push me into anything. I agreed, did I not?" A knowing smile made it's way onto your lips. "You of all people should know that I won't let anyone pressure me into doing anything I'm not comfortable with. You said it yourself; it's why you love me."
Gwen had her mouth slightly agape, almost like she was surprised you were able to use her own words of affection towards you in such a way to prove your point. You just continued to smile at her.
" I would love to be your 'brow bro'." You finished, knowing those were the words she really wanted to hear above all else.
Gwen suddenly laughed and pulled you into a tight hug, which you reciprocated almost immediately.
"I knew it! I knew you couldn't resist!" She said through her soft laughter.
"Oh, come on. I love you too much, how could I resist? Besides, being a 'brow bro' sounds totally badass if you ask me." You said, grinning like a dork. "You always manage to come up with the strangest names for things, Gwen Stacy."
"It truly is a gift, isn't it?"
While the two of you were busy cracking stupid jokes and giggling like school-girls, the piercer responsible for your appointment finally called out your name, causing both you and Gwen to jolt upwards. Your girlfriend gave you an encouraging look, gripping your hand as she assisted you in standing from your chair. She made an effort of handing you the teddy bear she had won you from the arcade earlier, as it had been sitting on its own chair besides your own. You gladly took it from her and tucked it under your arm with a grin and quick roll of your eyes. Your affection for one another was unmatched.
"C'mon," She said, grinning. "let's make it official."
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You sat on a comfortable lounge-like chair in one of the back rooms of the small shop, where they did the piercings. Gwen was beside you, sat atop one of the extra chairs provided for bystanders in the room. She held your hand in her own, smiling reassuringly at you as the worker who would be administering the piercing sterilized a needle for the job, humming softly to herself as she glanced at the two of you.
"It's okay to be nervous." Gwen told you softly, running her thumb over your knuckles. "I was terrified to get mine done, but hey, it looks cool, right?"
"You weren't scared at all, were you?" You deadpanned.
Gwen rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly as you looked at her. "Well to be honest, no." She took a breath and let a bright smile fill her face. "But hey! I forced my dad to hold my hand, so that's got to count for something, right?"
You rolled your eyes with a soft chuckle, noticing the proud gleam of pride in Gwen's eyes at being able to make you less nervous about the whole situation. It was her forte after all.
"Alright, missy. You ready?" The piercer had turned away from the counter full of sterile tools and was now looking at the both of you, surveying the situation as Gwen tried to calm you in any way she possibly could; yet she spoke to you specifically.
"Yep. This one here has been hyping me up for the past half-hour." You said, tilting your head in Gwen's direction. She offered that same bright smile to the worker, even offering a small wave of her hand that was not yet occupied with holding one of your own.
"Well then, hopefully this all goes smoothly for you. Though I like to think I'm pretty good at my job; no one has died yet." The worker said with a grin of her own, obviously finding the two of you to be humorous; something she could learn to appreciate after dealing with not-so cooperative clients. It was always a breath of fresh air to see young adults trying a new sort of style, and it kept the shop in business. The small piercing shop was most likely the only one in New York that did not require adult supervision to get a piercing(unless you went to some back alley, which wasn't ideal), so keeping up was never usually an issue.
Gwen and you both chuckled at that, feeling the blonde pat you hand she already held within her own.
"I'm right here. You're going to be fine, I promise." Gwen told you softly, watching as the worker approached you and stood on your other side with the sterilized needle ready. You nodded, silently thanking your girlfriend for her never-ending support in the moment, taking a few deep breaths as you turned your head to face the worker when she asked you, positioning the needle right on your eyebrow.
Within the count of three seconds, she had pushed the needle through the delicate skin of your eyebrow, causing your nose to scrunch up a bit in discomfort but stay still as a rock nonetheless. You could feel Gwen's grip tighten on your hand, and hear her praises towards you as the piercing process commenced.
"You're okay, you're doing great!"
"It's almost over, just a second more."
"I love it already, babe!"
As soon as the process had begun, it was over. After assuring that the jewelry piece was firmly set how it should be in your eyebrow, the worker complimented you on your bravery and ability to stay still with an almost proud, parent-like smile, before busying herself with cleaning the needle once more and getting everything set up again for any other clients she may be seeing that day, if any.
You got out of the chair, and, with Gwen's hand still in yours, made your way out of the room and up to the front desk in order to pay. The piercer had given you a discount for your appointment, claiming it's because it took her longer than usual to get set up and get the two of you back to the room; but both you and Gwen knew it was most likely because she found your dynamic to be the most wholesome she had yet to witness, especially when getting a piercing. Hey, neither of you were about to protest; 50 percent off was 50 percent off.
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"Ahh- I love it!" Gwen exclaimed excitedly, grinning like she'd just won a million bucks. To her, your company and happiness were worth just that.
Seeing you adjust and examine the small piece of jewelry now stuck in your eyebrow with an awe and undoubtable joy, using her cars rearview mirror to see yourself, just made her heart melt. She remembered feeling the same way when she first got hers done. It made you feel brand new, in a sense.
"I love it, too!" You said, grinning as the two of you agreed. You delicately pushed the mirror back into place as you settled comfortably back down in the passenger seat. "Guess this officially makes us 'brow bros', huh?"
This earned a genuine laugh from Gwen, as she gently grabbed the rearview mirror after you finished using it, adjusting it to her liking before letting her hand fall back onto the steering wheel. She just playfully shook her head, loose strands of her hair moving to fall slightly over her beautiful blue eyes.
"You look amazing, you know? It really suits you." She admitted, a shy expression overtaking her features, causing your newly pierced eyebrow to lift.
"You've only been telling me since we left the shop." You responded, smiling as she laughed again, watching as her ears turned a light shade of crimson. "Though I am so lucky to have you as my personal cheerleader." You softly elbowed her in the ribs and she swatted your arm away.
"I'm being serious!" She exclaimed, trying to stop laughing. "Shit looks badass!"
You snorted, amused. "I will admit, it was very well worth it. Not as bad as I previously thought."
"Duh." She replied, rolling her eyes like you had earlier, in a teasing manner. "I told you, didn't I? Just a pinch."
You held up your hands in mock surrender, smirking at her. "Just a pinch."
She shot you a smug grin. "You do know this means you're stuck with me, right? I mean, I can't have my 'brow bro' up and leaving me, y'know?"
You laughed loudly and put an arm around her shoulders, leaning over the divide between your two seats to give her a quick, affectionate kiss on the cheek, looking triumphantly on as her cheeks filled with color and she leaned into your touch.
"And you know I wouldn't have it any other way."
86 notes · View notes
midnightsun-if · 1 year ago
Note
the last scenario ask... really ruthless, but all it made is make me even more obsessed with the ros fr fr.
thinking about other classic asks, what about the ros' reactions if when they're on the verge of kissing mc, mc stopped them, blushes hard and tells them 'wait! i don't know how to kiss, i might be bad at it...'
Koda: He tilts his head, a gentle smile upturning his lips. “Why would that matter?” Strong arms flex around your body, tugging you impossibly closer. You could tell that he was confused— whether it be by what you had said or the fact that you felt like he cared about something that didn’t even seem to have crossed his mind— but the continuous support he always offered, overt or not, fills you with the warmth of a thousand suns. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m sure you’ll be absolutely perfect.” His smile grows into a grin. “Just do what feels right and go from there.”
Scarlett: Emerald green eyes assess you with an inscrutable gaze, crimson painted lips allowing the ghost of a smirk to flicker across before it settles into something soft— no, not soft, as you take notice to the faint touches of darkness that lies just out of reach within the viridescent expanse of her eyes. Adoring. Adoring would be the better word. “Is that what you’re worried about, my heart?” Scarlett inclines her head, threading slender fingers through the locks of hair nearest to the base of your skull, the slightest of pressure maneuvering you in the direction that she wished. Pressing her body closer, allowing you to feel every elegant dip and curve, Scarlett’s lips ghost over yours, just out of reach; the earlier darkness returns, changing enchanting emerald to alluring jade. “I guess I’ll just have to teach you then.”
Cyrus/Cyra: Multicolored eyes, predominantly a shimmering gold at the moment, soften completely at your words. Their hand, that had previously been placed on your waist, rises to gently cup your cheek. “Don’t overthink anything, my flame.” They tap your cheek, a supportive smile on their lips. ��Isn’t that what you always tell me? Don’t let your mind take over a matter of the heart. Let yourself be in the moment, with me, and we’ll worry about everything else as we always do.” They step impossibly closer, welcoming warmth encapsulating you completely, their forehead presses against yours, hand still steadily on your cheek, keeping you centered. “Together.”
Quinn: Their wolf almost shrieks at the insinuation that you could be anything less than exactly what they need— something that Quinn wholeheartedly agrees with. “That’s okay, sweetheart,” they murmur, offering you a gentle smile. “I don’t think you’ll be bad. Inexperience is just that inexperience, nothing else.” They pull you closer by your still connected hands, fondness tinged across their warm expression. “Though, and this is something I’ve always believed, practice does make perfect.” Quinn leans forward, their nose gently nuzzling your own. “Want to give it a try?”
Caden: “Oh?” Their brow furrows for a moment, confusion evident, and you can see the exact moment your words seemed to click in their head. Silver eyes widen, a red hue takes over their cheeks, and they cough out their next words. “Oh!” Caden rubs the back of their neck, an almost amused smile beginning to take over their shocked one. “I-I wasn’t expecting that, I admit.” Their shoulders hunch, suddenly shy, but they never move away from you, as if they were caught in your orbit. “I’m sorry if my reaction seemed off putting, I just couldn’t imagine someone being next to you, getting to know you, the real you, and not wanting to kiss you.” An argent gaze meets yours with a reverent fondness. “Would you give me that honor now?”
Sloane: Their hands, that had been firmly on your hips, slacken completely as your words register in their lust-addled brain. “Ah, shit!” They mutter, dropping their head to your shoulder, strands of messily tousled hair obscuring your view of their face. You don’t feel like panicking, although the thought did cross your mind, as their thumb gently runs across your hipbone in soothing circles— a gentle reminder that they were still there, still with you, they were just processing something that they needed a moment to get through. With one final huff, Sloane straightens, hazel eyes observing you with exasperated fondness. “I don’t think I deserve to be your first kiss, but I’m a selfish bastard—” They step closer, somehow in the already enclosed space, their breath whispering across your lips. “I don’t want anyone else to have it either. Will you let me?”
Blake: “I know that, angel.” Sliding their hands into your hair, Blake presses flush against your body. Violet eyes observing every minute expression that flickers across your face, keenly aware of what they all mean and how to react accordingly. “It makes this moment all the sweeter, don’t you think? It’ll be your first kiss and, in a way, it’ll be mine too.” A beaming smile curls their lips upward, no doubt in response to your own dubious expression in response to their words, but they don’t seem to take offense to it in the slightest. Instead, Blake huffs out another laugh and tugs your head closer to theirs, forehead to forehead. “I’ve kissed a lot of people, I know you’re aware of that, but I’ve never kissed anyone I’ve truly cared about. Not until now.”
Reginald/Regina: “Really?” Their eyes widen in surprise, clearly in shock, but it wasn’t an expression that caused you to bristle— as they did seem genuine in their amazement; like they couldn’t believe someone could ever resist your pull— but an apologetic look quickly follows regardless. “I didn’t mean it like that.” They rub the back of their neck, a rueful smile tugging at their lips. “I-I guess I’m just surprised that I have a bit more knowledge than you in something.” They tilt their head. “Granted it’s not a lot more, but it’s something.” Blue green eyes turn down to your still interlaced hands, shyness prominent by the growing redness across their cheeks. “Would you like me to share it?” They peer up at you through their lashes. “My knowledge I mean.”
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idcbabyialreadylostmymind · 2 years ago
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Let's have one
Pairing- Norm x reader
Summary- Norm and you try for a baby.
A/N- I thought of this while I was trying to go to sleep and I need to get it out of my tiny brain.
Warnings- slight breeding kink, p in v, kissing, groping, lmk if I missed something
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Norm watches as you chase Neteyam around pretending to be a monster, you were watching him for Neytiri and Jake to get out of the house. He's always wanted kids and he sees the way you look at kids playing with their mother and father and he knew it was time for the talk.
It only was an hour until Jake came to get Neteyam, he gave you one last hug. "Bye bye Aunt Y/N, Night Uncle Norm." A tired Neteyam babbles out as he snuggles into his father's arms fixing to go to sleep. "Bye Neteyam." You smile as you Jake walks off mouthing a 'Thank you.' Only giving him a nod before closing the curtain that acts like a door. You sigh before turning to Norm laying next to him on the cot giving him a soft kiss on the lips before snuggling into his side. Norm took a deep breath before what he was about to say.
"Let's have one." Norm said.
You sit up, "What?" You ask.
"A kid, let's have one." He says again and excitement lit up your face. "Really?" You ask to make sure he wasn't tricking you. "Really." He replied as you jumped on him peppering his face with kisses. He chuckles at your happiness. "Let's try tonight." You say and he shakes his head.
He lies you on your back a smile never leaving your face. He straddles himself between your legs, leaving small kisses on your neck that tickled. You giggled a little which made him smile into you skin.
His fingers trailed down your side and landed on your hips, grinding his into yours making a whimper escape your lips. You grab your queue and connect it with his and a eccentric waves flew throughout both of you, he looked at you as he untied your loincloth placing it down gently. He takes his shorts off and guided himself to your entrance his eyes never once left yours. He pushed himself into you until he was balls deep. He gave you a few minutes to get comfortable.
"Can I move baby." He asks you shake your head gently wrapping your arms around his neck bringing him into a kiss, as you kiss he pulled out a little before slapping his hips into yours again making your gasp into the kiss. He did this again and again fucking you slow, gentle, and deep. "Gonna give you a baby okay, oh shit- gonna be a mama for me fuck-." He said as he fucked you on hand on the cot supporting him and the other groping your breasts under your covering.
"Yes yes yes." Was all you could say between your moans you wrapped your legs around his waist as his thrust became faster and faster. His tip hit the top of your cervix and that made you clench around him as he kept doing it over and over again. It wouldn't be long till you came and he knew that.
"You gonna come for me, c'mon cum for me cum for your Norm." He whispered into your ear before kissing it and all the way to your jawline.
And that what you did, you had one of the most mind-blowing orgasms in your entire life, your legs were tightening around his waist, you brought him closer as he continued to fuck you through your high, he wrapped his arms around you picking you up, his hips meeting yours as he held you. And then he came inside of you, fucking his cum back into you making sure none of it leaked out of you.
You two stayed like that for a while, holding each other, him still inside of you. You put your forehead against his and just smiled before he kissed you pulling away he laughed, he couldn't wait.
And the next month when the Tsahik checked on you, it was true you were pregnant. Norm was never had happy as he was in that moment he picked you up in his arms, supporting your back with one hand, and holding your thigh with the other as he kissed your face, neck and lips. "I'm gonna be a dad I'm gonna be a dad." He yelled fr anyone to hear.
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f1nalboys · 10 months ago
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100 random dialog prompts (If you're still doing it)
18. Randy.
I need him being a loser boy keeping a pic of reader he uh...uses 🥴
UR A GENIUSSSSSS did this for u and u only fr i had sm fun writing this >:))) not edited at ALL im too lazy and my laptop is almost dead so <3 good luck everyone!!
Randy Meeks x GN!Reader
“Is that a picture of me?!”
“It’s not what it looks like!”
Randy could die. One second his hand is wrapped around his cock, his head tilted to the side as he stares at the worn polaroid in his hand, and the next you’re standing in his doorway with a shocked look on your face. The photo had slipped out of his hand as he struggled to cover himself with his blanket and it had floated gracefully onto the floor in front of you, your wide smile front and center before your very feet. “I-It’s not, listen, I know how this looks-” He stumbles over his words, his cock painfully hard, twitching under the covers as he stares you down. 
You bend down and pick up the photo, looking back at him and cocking an eyebrow before holding it out to him between your thumb and pointer. “Well, it looks like this is a photo you took of me at your party last month.” You say, and he grimaces. His face is bright red, his freckled shoulders are hunched towards his pink ears, and he can barely make eye contact with you. “And it looks like you were jerking off.” You continue, and Randy’s eyebrows twitch together; you don’t sound angry. You should be angry. “And it looks like you were jerking off to the photo of me.”
“Ok… so it might look exactly like that…” He admits with a nervous laugh, watching as you walk towards him. “Look, Y/N, I am so sorry, seriously! I-I’ve never even done something like that before, I don’t know what came over me!” Randy’s eyes widen, his nose turning a shade darker as you grab ahold of the thin blanket he had thrown over his lap when you walked in, tossing it back. His cock is still hard, the tip leaking pathetically, and he goes to cover himself. “What are you- oh fuck.” 
His voice cracks slightly as you wrap your hand around his cock, a grin on your face as you sit on the edge of his bed. “Oh, I’m sure that’s true.” You say sarcastically as you begin to stroke him, setting a steady pace, using his precum as lube. Randy’s hips are bucking up into your tight fist, steady and low moans falling past his swollen lips, his eyes darting between your hand and your face, completely at your mercy. “I’m sure you’ve never done that before. Never came home after hanging out with me and came over the picture,” 
Randy lets out a whimper. You were teasing him, calling him out on the lie he had told you once again. “N-never,” he reaffirms, choking on the word as you tighten your grip around him. He’s close already, your hands so soft compared to his. “Oh fuck, don’t stop… please? Please, I’m so close, Y/N.” He whines through his teeth and you can’t help but laugh when his eyes fill up with tears as your hand slows. “No, no! Don’t stop!”
“You lied to me. Tell me the truth and I’ll keep going.”
“I didn’t lie!”
“Randy, tell me the truth or I stop fucking touching you.”
Your words hang heavy in the air and he swallows heavily, looking at you with pleading eyes. When your face doesn’t change and there’s no sign of you cracking. His eyes close, the tear that had been building in his eye sliding down his cheek, as he begins to babble. “Okay, okay, fuck. I…I have done it before, a few times. A lot, honestly. Fuck, every night we hang out, sometimes when we havent seen each other in a while.” 
He’s starting to babble and you want to keep going but you wait, tilting your head at him as he opens his eyes, the words spilling from his lips, desperate to feel your hand move around him again. “I think about you all the time, you know? I can’t help it; even when I try to think about someone else, I… I can’t cum unless it’s you.” He whines, swallowing heavily. “God, fuck, I’m so close, Y/N, please… I-I’m sorry I lied, I shouldn’t have, m’just embarrassed at how fucking turned on you get me. Too fucking beautiful, you know? So fucking sexy, oh god.”
He grunts, his hips jerking upwards just once, urging your hand to move. You grin, leaning in and whispering in his ear. “Let’s see how much you’ve been wanting this then, alright, Ray?”
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luvhughes43 · 2 years ago
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trip to jersey | nico hischier x photographer!reader
request: jennie x nico
ynoffical just posted !
ynoffical
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liked by sooyaaa__, roses_are_rosie, and others
ynoffical very excited for this next work trip ! exciting things are coming very soonnnn📸🛫💗
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sooyaaa__ have a safe flight !
ynoffical i will ! thank you
fan01 where are you going??
ynoffical new jersey!
fan02 love your photography💗💗
nicohischier just posted !
nicohischier
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nicohischier game day 🏒😈
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tysmith_6 looking good
lalalalisa_m ynoffical is this who... ?
ynoffical no comment.
njdevil00 CAP🫡
hockeyfan01 when he finally posts on insta😩🙏
ynoffical
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ynoffical some behind the scenes...🏒💗
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njdevil00 happy to have you here tonight🏒
fan03 she's at a hockey game??🤔
fan04 yeah i think she's taking photos of the players!
fan03 oh okay thxx!!
jackhughes nicohischer looking good on the 3rd🫡🔥
liked by ynoffical and nicohischier
roses_are_rosie best friend is growing up🥲💗
sooyaaa__ i miss her already she needs to come back home
dawson1417 👀👀🔥
ynoffical just posted !
ynoffical
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ynoffical just a casual night in jersey...
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fan05 YN WHOS THE GUY??
fan06 ITS DEF ONE OF THE DEVILS OMG???
fan05 the devils?
fan06 the hockey players she took pictures of?
fan05 OHHH OMG???
nicohischier come back soon!♥️
ynoffical booking my plane ticket as we speak🫡
jackhughes nicohischier just friends aye? who's that beauty on the 2nd slide?
nicohischier i'm going to tell Lindy to bench you.
njdevils just posted !
njdevils
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njdevils guest photographer ynoffical joined us at prudential tonight to take some pictures of our boys!
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jackhughes 🔥🔥
ynoffical thank you for having me! i loved jersey💗
jackhughes i think you loved something or someone else too...
ynoffical yes miles.wood44 was great ! very photogenic and nice
jackhughes i thought you said i was the most photogenic😐
ynoffical i lied.
miles.wood44 jackhughes i don't even have to try for these angles!
jackhughes miles.wood44 i don't have to try for angles either what
dawson1417 lets not lie here we all heard you ask for posing tips *liked by ynoffical, nicohischier, miles.wood44, and njdevil00
hockeyfan02 great photos! the boys are looking good😈🔥
ynoffical just posted !
ynoffical
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ynoffical back home💐💗
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fan07 OMG DO U GUYS THINK THE GUY IN HER LAST POST SENT THE FLOWERS??
nicohischier glad you had a safe flight!♥️
ynoffical yes i did! thank you for everything in jersey and afterwards<3
nicohischier of course! come visit again soon
dawson1417 interesting...👀
ynoffical what🤨
jackhughes everybody knows.
ynoffical 🧍‍♀️
sooyaaa__ FINALLY WIFEY IS HOME🙏🙏
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ynofficial just posted !
ynoffical
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ynoffical off season reunion ;)
tagged: nicohischier
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fan08 SHE'S DATING NICO HISCHIER????
fan09 what who's that?
fan08 hes one of the hockey players she photographed when she went to jersey!
sooyaaa__ i love yn
sooyaaa__ 's pictures
lalalalisa_m WAIT YOU GUYS ARE FR TOGETHER NOW??
ynoffical surprise? 🤭
nicohischier please never leave
ynoffical we've got a few more weeks! 💗 liked by nicohischier
jackhughes I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT.
jackhughes dawson1417 miles.wood44 tysmith_6
dawson1417 OH LETS GOOO🔥🔥
miles.wood44 jackhughes why're u tagging me i didn't even say anything
jackhughes miles.wood44 you know what you did.
tysmith_6 jackhughes okay sure but what did I do?
jackhughes tysmith_6 oh! you did nothing i just wanted you to see this🥰
nicohischier just posted !
nicohischier
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nicohischier my love♥️
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ynoffical my love🥲💗
ynoffical i have the best times with you💗
nicohischier i miss you already my love♥️
jackhughes very confused by the weather situation
nicohischier cold one day hot the next👍
fan10 they're so cute i'm cryingggg😭😭
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onesaltyhunter · 1 year ago
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Sleep Token x Gender Neutral!Reader HCs
what type of inhuman creatures would they be?
Side note: I've never made one of these before so props to all those people who make these regularly--they're difficult for my 3 brain cells to pop out something in return
VESSEL (I)
VAMPIRE
Protective, yet kind and passionate (he's also moderately awkward but we love that for him)
Tried his best to use his special "mind powers" to make you attracted to him after years of jokingly flirting with you
(It didn't work lmao)
He's still a hopeless romantic so he tried again
it still didn't work but you ended up falling for him anyway (he still believes that it worked)
Has an undeniable urge to hold onto you in some way, whether it may be an arm around your shoulder, waist--holding hands, and even the occasional fumbling with each other's fingers when walking somewhere
he's cold. like SO FUCKING COLD.
You used to jump at how freezing he was to the touch, but you've gotten used to it (for the most part)
If you decide to go to one of their shows and someone looks at you for a split second with even the slightest look of disgust/infatuation, Vessel with put the fear of God into them
He wouldn't tell you what he did, but, you could easily figure it out
bro is HORNY like ON GOD
II
WERECAT
kinda shy--very cuddly though
yeah sure they have a "Holy duty to be constantly awake" but sometimes, II feels a bit eepy
either very energetic or very tired, no in-between
Can barely hold back the urge to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle your neck (even if you're taller than him)
Acts like he needs some alone time every once in a while (lies)
Doesn't really know how to explain to you that he wants to spend more time with you--doesn't want to come off as clingy
Has literally overslept cuddled up to you and nearly missed a show because of it--loves violating his duty to Sleep if it means he can spend more time with you
It doesn't feel like he has to ask to "accidentally" pass out on you, bypassing any means of attempting to ask you if it's alright
You'd always be okay with it though, unless you were nommin on a snack and it felt weird to see him schlumped over your thigh, snoring--which felt weird but eh, its just II being II
After you found out what he was, you jokingly called him a "catboy"
The weird stare off lasted a solid minute
II was a little weirded out by the fact that you were unphased by your reaction to him telling you that he is a LITERAL monster
III
WEREWOLF
sorry if you thought he was going to be some big strong werewolf man--he has the personality of a golden retriever
Needs hugs (SHOW HIM SOME AFFECTION LIKE 24/7 PLS HE NEEDS IT)
VERY ENERGETIC
Fuckin loves running around like a maniac with you on off-days or even after a show
You still wonder how he has the energy to do stuff after bouncing about and toying with Vessel on stage
Will NOT hesitate on making a scene if it looks like someone is harassing you
Will (attempt) stop the ENTIRE SHOW and jump down into the crowd and shove them
if he can't, well--let's just say that he had a very unpleasant snack that night
Comes back acting as if nothing happened
IV
FAE
very chill (as per usual)
loves to dance around
you came home to him jamming out on his own and all of your seemingly dying house plants started living again
(Bro forgot he can do that 💀)
will dance with you until the middle of the night (goblin behavior but we love him fr)
loves taking you to botanical gardens
can't stop bringing you flowers (like no he really can't stop, it almost a problem)
another hugger (you want to hug him--you NEED TO)
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