#the way he just wants to be there for her supporting her in every way he can

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [3] - Downpour

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You're amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don't forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Thanks to @chibi-lioness for beta reading!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Evening rain comes out of nowhere.

Word Count: 4540

CW: Smoking cigars, explicit language

Series Masterlist

Fine.

Maybe you did have a crush.

And maybe the said crush was taking over all your thoughts to the point that you could barely focus on anything other than him, but that was completely normal.

Just like you and your best friend analyzing every single second of your interaction with your crush was completely normal.

“He actually lifted your car?”

You nodded your head, filling both her glass and yours with wine before tucking your legs under you.

“With one hand,” you said, leaning back to the arm of the couch. “He did that with one hand.”

“And you didn’t jump his bones right then and there?”

“No but I may have rambled about going to jail if the car fell on him and also not knowing who would take care of Theo.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” she asked with a scoff. “I’d take care of Theo. We’d come to visit you every weekend.”

“Thanks Julie.”

“I’d even sign you up for those inmate dating websites.”

You blinked a couple of times. “Uh, no thank you.”

“Hey, if you accidentally kill the ridiculously hot mutant guy—”

“Logan.”

“Yeah, Logan. If you accidentally kill him, you might as well exchange some dirty letters with someone else.”

“Can we please focus on the fact that I actually have a crush on him?”

“We absolutely can,” Julie grinned, swirling the wine in her glass. “Aw look at you! It’s cute.”

“It’s not cute!” you whined, slipping a little on the couch. “Julie, I talk absolute nonsense whenever he and I cross paths.”

“Babe, I mean it in the best way possible,” she said and motioned at your face. “I doubt any guy really listens to any word coming out of your mouth when you look like this, so you’re fine.”

“So not true,” you stated and sipped your wine. “I mean either way, it’s not like anything could happen between us so I’ll just, you know, fantasize about him and gaze at him longingly. Should be fine.”

Julie rolled her eyes at you. “Come on.”

“No seriously, because Theo—”

“Sweetheart,” she said. “You got pregnant at 18. Don’t get me wrong, I think Theo is the most perfect kid in the entire world but keep in mind that while we were all out partying, you were taking care of a baby.”

“It’s fine, I lived vicariously through you.”

“And now that you’re in your twenties and hot as fuck,” Julie said, ignoring your comment. “You don’t think it’s time to live a little?”

“It’d confuse Theo if I started dating around, especially with Logan—”

“Fine, then don’t date Logan. Just fuck his brains out.”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because the moment I sleep with him, I will be trying to decide on the wallpaper of our future cabin in the woods,” you pointed out, getting a handful of popcorn from the bowl and she scoffed.

“I still can’t believe you want a cabin in the woods.”

“I want a cabin in the woods and I want a horse and a cat and two dogs,” you insisted. “Anyway, the point is, no strings attached is not a thing for me when it comes to a guy that hot. He lifted a car for me, Julie!”

“And you want him to lift you up and down repeatedly,” Julie said with a grin, making you throw a popcorn at her.

“I doubt I’m his type,” you said and she groaned.

“You cannot be serious.”

“No I am, because men like him go for…” you trailed off and threw your head back. “Ugh, I so want to show you his picture so that you’ll know what I’m talking about but I don’t have one!”

“I have this mental image of a very hot lumberjack in mind.”

“That would be correct,” you said before taking a sip of your wine, but then your phone started vibrating on the table and you frowned, then snatched it off the table when you saw the caller ID.

“Theo?” you answered immediately. “Are you alright?”

“Hi mommy!”

You let out a breath at the cheerful tone of his voice, then pressed a hand on your chest and checked the time on the phone.

“What are you doing up, bean?” you asked. “It’s late at night.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“I’m with auntie Julie,” you said and Julie grinned.

“Hi Theo, I missed you sweetheart!” she called out, making Theo giggle.

“Hi auntie Julie!” he said. “Mommy, I thought about it, and I solved how I can have fish.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, a smile pulling at your lips as you shook your head.

“I’m listening, bean.”

“Okay so,” he said. “We will get two fish, and we will put them in an aquarium, but like a bowl, not a huge aquarium.”

You hummed.

“That’s where they’ll stay at the weekends when I’m there,” he said. “And then, on weekdays, I will bring them here, and put them in the lake, and that’s where they can stay within the week! They’d even make friends with other fish!”

You let out a small laugh.

“Theo, my love,” you said. “How will you catch them again if you put them in the lake?”

He paused for a moment.

“Um, I’d call them by their names,” he said. “Cheeto and Popcorn. They’d come.”

“Fish don’t do that baby,” you said softly. “How about you make friends with fish there in the lake and on the weekends they can just spend time with their own friends?”

“Yes but—” he started but then got distracted for a moment by something. “It’s my mom!”

“I know bub,” you heard Logan’s deep voice and your eyes widened. You sat up straight immediately, making Julie tilt her head in confusion. “Tell her I said hi.”

“Mommy, Mr. Logan says hi to you.”

“Uh, tell him I said hi back,” you said after a beat, hearing Theo parrot what you said as you covered the bottom part of the phone with your palm, then mouthed ‘Logan’ to Julie.

“What?!” she whispered and you cleared your throat.

“And tell him to please watch that you don’t have any sweets before bed, for his sake.”

“No!”

“Bean.”

“Ugh fine!” he said. “Mr Logan, my mom says please watch that I don’t have any sweets before bed for your sake.”

You could hear Logan’s chuckle, making you bite at your lip before he spoke.

“Can I borrow the phone for a minute Theo?”

Your jaw dropped and you motioned at the phone frantically, and Julie pulled you by the arm and made you lower the phone a little so that she could hear as well. You pressed your finger to your lips, signaling her to be silent before Theo’s excited “sure!” and there was a shuffling on the other line for a moment before Logan’s voice reached you again.

“So no chocolate before bed then?”

Julie gripped your wrist, mouthing “hot voice!” to you and you let out a giggle, trying to focus.

“Nope,” you said. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

You could hear Theo in the background; “I think I can have one chocolate.”

“No no,” you said, shaking your head. “He can’t.”

“Sorry bub, whatever your mom says goes.”

“Um, Logan,” you said, your mind going overdrive again. “If he’s up this late, he will turn the puppy dog eyes on for dessert, and he can be very, very insistent but sugar makes him incredibly energetic, and he will end up blowing a hole in the wall because of his powers so you can’t—”

“Relax princess,” Logan said and you could almost hear his faint smile. “It’s fine.”

Julie’s eyes widened and she fell on her back onto the couch dramatically, kicking her legs in the air while slapping the pillow and you stood up, your heart beating in your ears.

“How’s the car?” he asked and you licked your lips.

“Oh I changed my mechanic, so it’s at the new mechanic’s shop for a couple of days. My friend has been driving me to work—” Julie waved a hand from where she was lying down on the couch. “But apparently it’ll be fixed the day after tomorrow so it’s totally fine.”

“Are you being safe?”

“I am,” you said. “Are you?”

“Am I being safe?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “What with lifting cars and stuff, it can be dangerous.”

“Half a chocolate!” Theo said as if it was the brightest idea in the world. “Half—Mr. Logan, can I have the phone back please?”

You ran a hand over your face and cleared your throat.

“Sorry about that,” you said and Logan chuckled.

“Not a problem,” he said. “Good night.”

“Good night Logan,” you said, your head spinning with excitement and you heard the shuffling, then Theo took a deep breath.

“Mommy, half a chocolate!”

“Not at night,” you said. “We’ve talked about this bean. You can have chocolate tomorrow morning after breakfast, okay?”

“But—”

“Theo,” you said. “After breakfast.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh.

“I know bean,” you said softly. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Mkay,” he said with a huff. “I’m going to sleep then.”

“Okay, I love you!” you said. “Call me tomorrow and be nice to your teachers, okay?”

“I will,” he said. “Love you too!”

He hung up and you let out a breath, then tossed the phone on the couch while Julie sat up.

“Oh he talks you through it!” she said, slamming the pillow on the couch. “I just know he talks you through it!”

“Julie!” you exclaimed, your cheeks burning and she let out a laugh.

“Oh please, with that voice…”

“That’s what I mean!” you said and flung yourself on the couch. “He’s…he’s so amazing and Theo adores him and he’s so good with him too and to repeat, he lifted a car for me!”

“Aw,” Julie said. “He’s gonna be such a good stepdad to Theo.”

Your jaw dropped and you shook your head.

“We’re not even thinking about that,” you said, pointing at her. “We’re keeping our expectations very, very low, okay?”

She hummed, then tilted her head.

“Do you want to check Pinterest for cabins in the woods to see which one could be your and Logan’s in the future?”

You paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Yeah,” you said. “That sounds like keeping our expectations low, sure.”

                                                *

Despite having drunk until midnight and consequently having a hangover in the morning, the next day went without a hitch. You’d only had a couple of rude customers, which in service industry counted as a normal day if not a good one, but because of last night you were more than ready to get home, eat a bunch of snacks and go to sleep.

Towards the end of your shift, rain started pouring and you couldn’t help the whine escaping from your lips, leaning back to the counter. You could hear your friend Stacey’s small laugh as she looked out the window, then back to you.

“It’s just summer rain love,” she said. “It’ll stop.”

“Yeah but I’ll have to walk to the subway under that rain and I don’t have a coat with me,” you pointed out. “Ugh. Great. I’ll look like a horror movie protagonist by the time I get there.”

“This is why I am a huge advocate of waterproof makeup.”

You hummed, chewing on the pen in your hand as you grabbed your phone to check the weather forecast, faintly hearing the door opening behind you.

“It says it’ll rain until—what?” you asked Stacey when you lifted your head to see her raise her brows at something by the tables area and you turned your head to look over your shoulder, your heart jumping to your throat the moment you did so.

“Logan?”

Jesus, he looked way too handsome. He gave you a small smile, running a hand through his dark hair as if he was trying to get rid of the raindrops clinging to it, then approached the counter.

“Hey.”

“H—hi!” you said, your voice going way too high-pitched all of a sudden. “Uh, welcome! It’s so nice to see you, what—what can I get you?”

“I can take his order love,” Stacey said helpfully. “Your shift is over, get home before rain gets worse.”

“No no, I can stay.”

“I’m not here to eat actually,” Logan said, making you pull back a little.

“…Is Theo okay?” you asked, your stomach dropping as the thought hit you and he nodded his head.

“Oh he’s fine don’t worry,” he quickly assured you. “He was trying to name all the fish in the lake with his friends while I was leaving. I came to take you home actually.”

You blinked a couple of times.

“You drove all the way here from the institute just to take me home?” you asked just to make sure you had heard him right and he nodded again as if it was completely normal.

“You said your car is at the mechanic’s.”

One of these days, you were going to melt into a puddle in front of him.

“You really didn’t have to,” you said. “I’d hate to be a bother, and I’m sure you have other things to do, so I can just—”

“What did we say about you being too polite?” he asked, his voice almost chiding in a teasing manner, making warmth spread from your chest to your fingertips and a smile you couldn’t stop lit up your face, making you shift your weight, way too excited to just stand there.

“Um,” you said. “Just—just wait here okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “I won’t.”

You took a step back, and rushed to the kitchen, making the line cook turn his head.

“Hey, leaving already?”

“Yeah. Paul, where’s the pie?”

“Over there,” he said, motioning at the counter. “What’s the rush?”

You grabbed the pie to put it into the container while Stacey entered the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend, and more importantly, why didn’t you tell me he was this hot?!”

“What boyfriend?” Paul asked and Stacey motioned at the window.

“Look, right there.”

“He is not my boyfriend,” you said, your cheeks burning and Paul stole a look out the window, then let out a whistle.

“I was going to try to win you over but holy shit, that’s one hot dude.”

“And get this, he came here to drive her home.”

“He’s just being nice.”

“Car sex in the rain, got it.”

“He is my friend!”

“Oh really? So you’d be okay if I went out there and gave him my number?”

You blinked a couple of times and scoffed a laugh.

“Yeah but he…” you trailed off, desperately trying to come up with an excuse. “He has a girlfri—he’s married,” you changed your mind mid-sentence, nodding solemnly. “Yeah. He’s not wearing a ring because he is having it cleaned, and also he has—he has this condition that he can’t have sex with anyone. A disease.”

Out of the corner of your eye through the small kitchen window, you could see Logan tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“When he does, his partner’s… lower region just falls off, and it’s very gruesome, and if you haven’t heard of that condition, it’s because he’s like the only person in the world who has it, they named the disease after him,” you added. “Doctors call him a medical wonder.”

Stacey turned to Paul.

“She’s so gonna fuck him in the car.”

“She’s not gonna do that!” you exclaimed and cleared your throat, pushing the box into a plastic bag. “I’m—I’m leaving, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Theo doesn’t need a sibling yet, use protection!” Stacey teased you and you shook your head, then pushed the kitchen door and stepped out.

“Hey,” you said breathlessly, your whole face on fire and you held up the plastic bag. “The pie as promised.”

He gave you a calm smile, his eyes darting over you.

“You didn’t bring a coat?”

“Um no, but it’s fine—” you started but before you had the chance to say anything else, he had already taken his leather jacket off to put it over your shoulders.

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Logan said as he opened the door for you and you stepped outside, Logan gently steering you to a truck with his hand on the small of your back, making you bite back a smile. As soon as you reached the truck and got in, you let out a breath and put the plastic bag on the back seat, then put your seatbelt on. Logan got in as well, then started the engine and began driving.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “Really.”

“No problem.”

“I could just put it in the GPS or…” you trailed off when you noticed that there was no screen or phone or phone holder in sight so you nodded to yourself. “I don’t—you know, I’m against being a prisoner to technology myself so I can totally relate, and yeah I’ll just put my phone here.”

You quickly found your home address and touched the screen, then carefully placed it on the dashboard and stole a look at him.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he said. “As long as it’s not about my condition.”

“Your condition?”

“Yeah, that disease you were talking about just now?”

Your eyes widened, your jaw dropping as embarrassment hit you, your cheeks growing hot and a whine escaped from your lips.

“You heard that?”

“Mm hm.”

You slipped a little in your seat, burying your face into your hands, the sight making him chuckle as you took a deep breath and lifted your head to look at him again.

“I can explain,” you said. “It’s just that…Stacey is—you know, she’s incredibly nice but I don’t think she’s over her last boyfriend and I was trying to spare her feelings. Wait, did you want to get her number? Because if you did—”

“No.”

A small spark of hope shot through your system.

“Oh,” you managed to say. “Okay. Um, sorry I made up a nonexistent STD about you.”

“No problem,” he said with a smirk. “But for future reference, you might want to go with the wife lie. I can’t get diseases.”

You nodded slowly. “Because of clean eating?”

“Because of the X-gene.”

You blinked a couple of times, staring at him.

“Wait, what?” you asked. “But Theo got sick multiple times after his powers showed.”

“Not for every mutant,” he said. “My body heals itself.”

“Against everything?”

“Mm hm.”

“What if we had a car crash right now?”

“I’ve been in car crashes, healed in a second.”

“What if someone attacked you with a knife?”

“Happened before, healed instantly.”

“What if someone shot you?”

“Multiple people did in multiple wars. I healed.”

You tilted your head. “I’m sorry, wars?”

“Like I said,” he said after a beat. “My body heals itself. Against injuries, and time.”

You frowned slightly, trying to make sense of what you’d just heard and as soon as the thought hit you, you gasped.

“Oh my God, Logan,” you said. “Did you know Marie Antoinette?”

“What?” he asked with a grimace, turning to look at you better. “What is it with you and Theo and France? He asked me if I knew Napoleon the other day.”

You raised your brows. “Did you?”

“No!” he said. “No, I was born in 1832.”

Holy shit, Julie was right.

You did have a thing for older men but having a crush on an almost 200-year-old man was just a little bit excessive, even for you.

A silence fell upon the car and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You okay there?”

“Yeah, just in disbelief,” you muttered. “Do you miss it? Back then?”

He shook his head.

“Not really,” he said. “It was terrible. Now is better, it’s just a little too...”

“Chaotic?” you asked and he scoffed, then nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “A little too chaotic.”

“I mean I wasn’t born in the 19th century but I know what you mean,” you said. “Seriously, if I could just live in a cabin in the woods with Theo and a cat, two dogs and a horse, I’d do it. I even have all their names.”

“What are the names?”

“I’m glad you asked,” you said. “The cat will be Catapult—”

“Are you seriously going to name your cat after a pun?”

“Damn right I am,” you said, counting with your fingers. “The dogs are Underdog and Overdog.”

“Jesus.”

“And the horse’s name used to be Princess Pink Sparkle Her Highness when I was six, but now I think I’m just going to name her Hi-Horse so that someone can tell me to get off my high horse one day.”

Logan looked like he was in actual pain for some reason.

“But listen, the list used to go like, a cat, a dog and a horse, and I figured like, if I get one dog, why not have two, you know?” you asked. “I couldn’t possibly leave Underdog without a friend, because as much as I love cats, they can be kind of assholes sometimes to dogs, they can’t help it, so that’s how Overdog came into being, and there were also ducks named Comma, Colon, Semicolon, and Exclamation, and their babies were going to be named Parenthesis, Dash and Hyphen but then I realized that would mean I'd need to have the cabin next to a lake, and ever since I watched that one creepy horror movie I’m terrified of lakes at night because I really don’t think we should mess with any bodies of water and—” you managed to stop yourself and cleared your throat. “Just…feel free to stop me when I do this.”

“I like it when you do it,” Logan stated without taking his eyes off the road, as if he was talking about the weather and your heart started pacing in your chest while you gawked at him.

“…People usually hate it.”

“People are idiots.”

“Someone I used to know would cover my mouth whenever I rambled too much.”

“And you didn’t break their hand?” he asked and you scoffed a laugh, then shook your head.

“Nope,” you muttered. “That sounds like a good idea though.”

“It is,” he said, reaching out to grab the cigar resting by the gear stick, and opened his window a little.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” you said. “You smoke cigars?”

“Mm hm,” he said, patting his jeans for a lighter, then looked around the car before his hazel eyes fell on you. “I think my lighter is in the jacket pocket, would you…?”

“Oh sure!” you said and felt around the leather jacket over your shoulders, then pulled out the lighter and flicked it, the warmth caressing your hand for a moment before you held it out for him. Logan stole a look at you, his gaze stopping on your face illuminated by the flame before he leaned in to hold the tip of the cigar to the flame.

You had no idea why, but it felt strangely intimate.

“Thanks,” he murmured and you offered him a hesitant smile, flicking the cap of the lighter back before carefully placing it beside the gear stick.

“Sure,” you said, trying to snap yourself out of it. “Um, I used to smoke cigarettes. Mostly to look cool.”

“Did it work?”

“Not really,” you admitted as he stole a look at the GPS, then back at the road. “Never a cigar though, do you mind if I try it?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Corners of his mouth curled upwards. “Are you trying to look cool right now?”

“Hey, if you don’t think I’m cool after learning my future pets’ names, I don’t think a cigar is gonna help it.”

That coaxed a chuckle out of him and he held out his hand so that you could take the cigar from him. The moment your fingertips brushed against his skin, his hand twitched, a warmth spreading from your hand to your whole body. You swallowed thickly, your heartbeat getting faster and you brought the cigar to your lips with a trembling hand, then took a drag.

“Don’t inhale—” Logan started but you had already inhaled the smoke, a sharp pain stabbing you in the chest as soon as you did. Logan pulled over and through the coughs, you realized you were right in front of your apartment but you couldn’t even thank him as you pounded your chest with your fist, then took a deep breath and wiped at your eyes with one hand while handing him the cigar back with the other.

“Ugh, that’s terrible!” you whined. “You smoke that willingly?”

“You’re not supposed to inhale it.”

You made a face and wiped at your eyes again, sniffling.

“Not supposed to inhale it?” you repeated as you straightened your back to look at him better, your brows pulled together in almost a petulant manner. “What’s the point of it then?”

The calm smile that graced his lips was almost taunting and he reached out to wipe at the remnant of a tear under your eye with a knuckle, your breath catching in your throat.

“The taste, princess,” he said, his deep voice sending an excited shiver down your spine as he pulled his hand back. “The taste is the point.”

…Oh.

Oh you were so going to melt in front of him one of these days.

That wasn’t supposed to sound as suggestive as it did, you were sure of it but that did nothing to stop the fire spreading over your cheeks, making you shift a little in your spot before he nodded to the window.

“Is this your place?”

You had to force yourself to drag your eyes away from him and looked outside even if you knew where you were, then nodded fervently.

“Yeah!” you said. “Yeah that’s—that’s me.”

A silence fell upon the car and you cleared your throat, trying to snap out of the daze you were in.

“Thank you,” you said after a beat. “For…for all of this, really.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said and you looked outside again, now realizing the rain had stopped so you grabbed your phone off the dashboard, unbuckled your seatbelt and slipped the jacket off your shoulders, his unwavering gaze almost too hot on your skin.

“Good night Logan,” you said softly and opened your door to step out of the car, then made your way to the building. You climbed up the stairs, a giggle you couldn’t stop escaping from your lips as you unlocked your door, then stepped into your apartment and closed the door behind you before leaning back against it.

“Alright…” you breathed out, your heart beating in your ears. “Yeah, okay. I definitely have a crush.”

[timmydraker]

Tim begins to distance himself from his family after Damian becomes Robin.

It was obvious in the way he ran off to rescue Bruce, but that was more of a physical thing at the end of the day. He was desperate and had lost any kind of safety net and support he had after Dick threatened Arkham and how badly he hurt Alfred with his instance that Bruce was alive.

Either way he was going to get Bruce back, if not because he felt like he was an aimless, nothing human being without Batman then there was that he wanted to be believed.

Then Dick handed over Robin to Damian who at that point genuinely despised Tim, though there was also a level of jealously in the young Wayne’s mind at the intelligence and analytical Tim.

It was then that Tim decided he would bring Bruce back and then do his own thing, outside of Robin and outside of Batman.

He clearly had done his job hadn’t he? Sure Bruce was dead, but Dick was acting as Batman and that Batman had a Robin, so his reasoning for being Robin was extinguished.

Tim brings Bruce back and the older man praises and thanks him for several days and then, like everything else, the attention moves away. It goes to him connecting with Damian on a vigilante level and catching up on the last several months of him being ‘dead’. It goes to Jason who, now that he’s lost his foster father has decided that maybe he could try a little harder after all.

It goes to everyone and anyone other than Tim and this time? That’s actually the plan.

Tim isn’t as good of a hacker as Barbara, but she’s basically a god at it so compared to others he might as well be master level, just not against her. This he uses to shift around peoples schedules so Alfred has no choice but to let him go to school on his own (Tim may have also invented an early morning ‘club’ that was totally legit and not at all a fabrication). He makes it so when Dick is over or Jason takes the rare opportunity to visit he had to work at WE or DI, something important he can’t neglect.

He never has to walk Ace or Titus because he’s busy with his team mates.

Team mates who think he’s busy helping out Batman.

Tim still does work as a hero, but it’s entirely through his businesses after a while. A few times he has no choice but to go out in a boring black suit with a full face mask and hoodie. It’s got nothing on it, no symbols or gadgets. Nothing to connect him to anyone.

He starts with the homeless, dishing out vaccines like candy without even doing a campaign to showcase it.

Then he changes Bruce’s rather naive approach to orphanages and makes it so every single child who is put through is given a small amount of funding. He makes it so kids have more chance to stay with siblings, makes sure everyone who even so much as enters the ground of a orphanage have a real background check and sure the adoption rate drops, but so does the missing kids and DV cases.

Tim steals over fifty million from people like Luther and Penguin and all kinds of corrupt rich assholes for the majority of the funding and not even a cent of it is traced back to Wayne or Drake businesses. Whiles he’s digging into Lex be manages to get enough evidence to put a sizeable dent in his reputation, even if Lex manages to smooch a fair bit of it back.

He’s manages to take out a large sized trafficking ring and helps get the victims into a real recovery home that he hand picks out security for.

Later, as in a few days afterward, he discovers a dog meat farm and everyone medical veterinary student suddenly finds themself free of student loans and debt and with multiple work opportunities available and volunteer work being down right pleased for.

Tim knows he’s being noticed but given that he basically lives in his office in the heart of the city, he isn’t there to hear his old teammates and ‘family’ talk about the mysterious Dread.

Dread who was named that after a report came out about a theory of an unknown hacker or ‘cyber vigilante’ who was stealing money and information from rich folk and giving it to the poor, giving all of the 1% dread that he would hit them next.

The exact quote was ‘Those with money deeper than their pockets dread the hackers next moves. And they should feel that dread as a warning for this Robin Hood like legend seems to be getting braver.’

Dick was sure the hacker would have been called Robin if he hadn’t chosen that name already, to which Barbara responded with grumbles and growl because she couldn’t find anything other than holes and traps left by the hacker. It was like they knew her every move before she even made it!

Tim, obvious to his growing reputation until it fully took off, hadn’t even considered that his actions would be framed a threat by Batman. He would say it was because he didn’t think Bruce would ever really target him like that, but in actuality it’s because he knew Bruce was one of the few good rich folk. Surely he would be on the side of a secret vigilante hacker trying to use horrible people to do good? He embraced Dread quickly and was happy he make the rich squirm and brought a sense of hope to people, it was just like Robin but instead of them being safe and given light they were given a peace of mind in a mix of revenge and justice.

What Tim doesn’t know is that Bruce is still too far into his whole image of black and white, good and evil, that he tends to forget there’s grey areas.

At least Jason is on the side of Dread, even if he still thinks the myth of a story is just that, a myth.

It’s when Tim blows up a bank when everyone has gone home for the night just so people will find the underground money ring that and he visits the manner to get a few things that he hears them talking about it.

By that point it’s been around two years since he dropped Robin and as usual Dick always greets him with a look of a desperate puppy, “Tim! Hi, you’re here. I haven’t seen you in months, how have you been?”

Tim smiles at Dick even if he hasn’t gotten over his anger at his oldest brother and moves to sit at the breakfast table with everyone (Alfred, Bruce, Jason and Damian).

“Good. Busy, we’ve had a lot of donations lately.”

Jason snorts, “No shit. Isn’t Wayne Enterprise one of the few ones not hit by Dread?”

Bruce grumbles and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t say that. They’ve managed to get into our system and completely changed the Jason Project.”

Jason grins and laughs happily, “you mean improved! Crime Ally is doing great now. Not the best, but still a fuck of a lot better.”

Smiling at the man who once beat him to an inch of his life, Tim takes a sip of his tea and casually says, “You’re welcome.”

The whole table goes quiet as Tim continues to casually sip his tea.

The silence carries for a total minute before Bruce puts down his cup and leans forward with a slight growl in his voice, “Explain.”

“Explain what?”

Bruce stands over his son even from halfway down the table and very obviously tries to calm himself with a deep breath, “What do you mean ‘you’re welcome’?”

Tim makes an ‘oh’ expression before cocking his head to the side in confusion, “I was the one who fixed the Jason Project? Wait, did you guys not realise I’m Dread?”

Damian shouts out a ‘what?!’ That makes Titus jump and Tim laughs under his breath, “What did you think I was doing?”

“Running the business! Not stealing from people and black mailing politicians!”

It’s Tim’s turn to growl now and he stands up himself with a glare at Bruce that is as close as any of them have gotten to the famed Bat-Glare, “Are you fucking kidding me? Like are you a Tully kidding me with that horse shit?”

Bruce looks stunned and Alfred doesn’t even tell him not to swear.

Tim slams his chair into the table.

“What the fuck else would I be doing, Bruce? I’m not Robin, that was taken from me, so what else was I gonna do? I finished my job, not only keeping you from killing anyone but bringing you back, so I had do pick something else. I’m not stealing from the rich, I’m stealing from selfish cunts who ruin peoples lives for no reason and giving it to people like Jason. So, don’t you fucking yell at me and don’t try to make me feel bad for this, not when I’ve done more in two years than you ever have and- don’t you fucking speak Dick, not when you were the one who took my place here away from me! Now, I have a trafficking ring I need to expose so good. Fucking. Day.”

Jason is the only one who follows him.

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine:

You hate Logan but you have a child together

You had a complicated relationship with your Logan. When he first came to the mansion the two of you hit off immediately. The typical good girl bad guy dynamic, but there always a layer of Logan you couldn't quite get to. He wanted to be with you, but he didn't want to do the work in order to keep you. He struggled with being emotionally vulnerable and you were the complete opposite. You told him you felt, you spoke through misunderstandings with him, and you were always there to listen. To try get any piece of your lover that you could. But after years of begging Logan to love you, when you told him you were in love with him. He said he was not, and that was the end of your relationship.

Or so you thought. Because your relationship couldn't end that easily, but you discovered you were pregnant. Logan tried to make things back to normal, but you rejected him at every turn. He hadn't ever wanted to hurt you, but as he realized your unrelenting anger, he knew he did. He knew that you cried when you were alone, that you'd start going to therapy again. That being pregnant with Logan's child was literally the last thing he thought you wanted. Maybe before when you were together when Logan wasn't confronted on being a coward.

He calls this karma, watching you go to Jean and Scott for support instead of him. Watching you grow progressively more pregnant with his child, and he couldn't hold you or kiss you. Logan thought about leaving, it was he had done so many times before. Even when the two of you were together, he'd leave for long periods of time. Breaking your heart over and over again but coming back asking for forgiveness. You'd given him so many chances and he had wasted them on being a brainless dick.

Little did you know how hard it was not to run back to him, not to give him to his promises. But you couldn't trust that he was going to come through for you. You didn't have any doubts about your child together, you knew that you meant something to him. You'd hope that his anxiety wouldn't pull him away from his own child. Because you knew he'd be a good dad, the way he was with Rogue, always checking in on her, making sure Bobby was being respectful. He loved her like a daughter, and you only hopped he could love your child the same.

Logan was going to have to be a part of your life no matter what now, or so you hoped. There was a hope in Logan that when your daughter was born that you would accept him again. He'd plan to tell you he loved you, that'd he give anything to you, that he'd wait for forever. It took him 9 months to grow the guts to do it.

It was a no brainer when he had their baby in his arms, you laying in the med-bay, he'd never seen you so tired but so happy. "Y/n." He murmured, looking over at you with his soft eyes. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you made eye contact with him. "I'm sorry for letting you down, I-I want to give you everything, I-I loved you for so long, I've just been too scared to say anything." He admitted, wearing his heart on his sleeve for once in his life.

You felt tears well up in your eyes at the pang in your chest, you shook your head as you looked away. "I-I can't risk it, Logan. Getting hurt by you-." You swallowed the lump in your throat. "I can't do it again, and I can't focus on you anymore and how you make me feel, I gotta focus on our girl, make sure she has the life she's supposed to."

Logan didn't say anything as he looked back down at his daughter, a shaky sigh falling from his mouth as he tried to keep the tears welling up in his eyes at bay. He didn't think he would cry if you said no, but Logan also thought you would forgive him. "I uh-I wanna name her Hazel."

"Yeah?" He grinned over at you, even just the slimmest of hope fluttering in his chest. You also spoke about his hazel eyes; it was one of your favorite things about him. Even if you didn't consciously pick it because of him, he had given him the glimmer of hope he needed to completely devote himself to you and Hazel.

Logan didn't confess anymore feelings or push you to be with him. But you grew rather annoyed by his presence always a reminder of something you wanted desperately but whenever you got it hurt you. It was like the apple that you wanted so desperately but everything was telling you to not grab the apple, don't eat it. Don't give into those green eyes and that handsome smile. Try not to focus when he was talking in that almost condescending way while his eyes flitted up and down your body. This man had no shame in showing you how much he loved you, by teasing, poking, antagonizing. But also being the first one to show up when you were overwhelmed with Hazel or you were just having a rough time. He didn't need to ask, he just did.

Being so agonizing good with your daughter that it was hard not to fold when he was such a good man. But instead of giving him a chance, you only pushed him away more, complaining about the littlest things and not giving Logan the benefit of the doubt. When Hazel wasn't around, it was you calling him some name and trying to start an argument with him.

But it was hard to act like a bitch when you saw your one and half year old on Logan's hip while he made her breakfast. It was his morning to take care of her, but you'd waken up early so you went for some coffee. "Morning beautiful." Logan grinned at you, you were suer he said those things to purposely piss you off. You ignored him as usual coming up to Hazel and kissing her cheek.

"Good morning love bug." You murmured to her, as she grinned over at you before putting a kiss on your own cheek. Logan gazed over at the two of you, imagines of you calling him that nickname, 'Love bug'. You'd explained to him how much that nickname actually meant to you, how it was favorite term of endearment. Something that you called him for a long time. He just wished it would be directed at him one day, one day he'd regain your trust again, right?

Logan wasn't a patient man.

But he was patient for his girls.

Notes: angsty moment here lmao got this idea last night just didn't have time to write it. hope you enjoy! lmk if you want a part 2

tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

One of my teachers believes megalodon is still alive, what should I tell him? It's the usual "Well, you can't prove it's not around" sort of argument

Oh brother... well, he's definitely wrong, because proving that megalodon isn't around anymore is incredibly easy! It's as simple as, "how come we don't see tons and tons of discarded megalodon teeth that date back only a few years, or even a few centuries and millennia, and we only find fossilised teeth?" See, megalodon tooth fossils are very common, and that's because the meg like all (most?) sharks shed their teeth as they grew new ones. If the meg was still alive we would see those giant teeth, even if the sharks themselves were "hidden" then eventually those teeth would wash up ashore after several years. But we never find them! Nor do we find lots of whale or large fish carcasses with massive bite chunks on beaches, or even living whales with battle scars left over from narrowly escaping the jaws of the meg. We could speculate on the giant squid thanks to sperm whales having fighting scars from them, but there's no similar phenomenon for the meg! The government can't hide EVERY tooth and carcass.

Oh and then there's also the more general stuff. "We've only explored 5% of the ocean we don't know what's out there" that mostly applies to the deep ocean where life is scarce. The megalodon lived in the tropical and subtropical regions of the world and was a predator of the topmost layers of the ocean, most likely. It's also theorised to have given birth close to the coast. In the coastal and shallow parts of oceans we would've sooner or later spotted them. "What if it just evolved to live in the deep sea" Such a large, specialised animal that was dependent on coastal waters for breeding? In such a short amount of time, while its prey was going extinct and the climate cooled? Unlikely. The meg ate whales and large fish to support its humongous size, where does one find such prey on the bottom of the ocean, I wonder? One does not. "Maybe it evolved to filter feed" wh- Then that's no longer the megalodon, is it!!???? There are real, actual super interesting and cool filter feeding sharks that need our attention and protection, and if someone's willing to completely ignore them for the sake of a stupid argument about their beloved megadeath murdershark still existing, then that's pretty sad. At that point you can calmly whisper, "it's okay, shhhh, you can let her go. It's okay. You can miss her, but you need to let her go."

Ah, if you're going to attempt to talk to your teacher about this, I do recommend you don't get snarky like I do about this matter, because that tends to get people on the defensive. No one wants to feel like they're being made fun of (very understandable)! I'm just personally very dumbfounded about people who willfully ignore science in favour of going "I wish this cool giant gigamurder killershark was still alive so I'm going to think that way now"

[awkward-walking-potato]

hello! i have a request for logan :)

logan has always loved (y/n). she has the same powers as wanda maximoff and left the school because she had a hard time controlling them and didn’t want to put anyone in danger. months later, when the school is under attack, charles asks for her help telepathically and she comes. logan is impressed by the way she now has full control over her mutation and he finally confesses when they’re not in danger anymore.

please & thank you!

Controlled Chaos

The Xavier Institute stood quiet under the moonlight, but the peace didn’t last long. The alarms blared through the mansion, signaling an attack. Logan’s claws unsheathed with a familiar snikt as he prepared for the inevitable battle. It had been months since you left, and every time there was a fight, his thoughts drifted to you.

You had powers like Wanda Maximoff—an ability to warp reality, move objects with a flick of your wrist, and manipulate chaos energy. But your powers were wild, uncontrollable. The fear of hurting others had driven you away, leaving Logan with an empty space in his chest that only you had filled.

Charles had tried everything to keep you there, offering help and support, but you needed time—time to find yourself, to gain control. Logan had wanted to go after you, but he respected your decision, as painful as it had been for him.

Tonight, however, something felt different. He could sense it in the way Charles’ eyes narrowed, his usual calm demeanor rattled as the enemy breached their defenses.

“Logan,” Charles said suddenly, his voice projecting into Logan’s mind. “I’ve called for help.”

Logan grunted, slicing through an attacking Sentinel with ease. “Help? From who?”

Charles didn’t answer immediately, his attention focused elsewhere. But then Logan heard it—the soft, familiar hum of energy crackling in the distance. His heart skipped a beat, an overwhelming sense of hope and dread settling in his chest.

It couldn’t be.

And then you appeared, stepping through the mansion doors with confidence radiating from you. Your presence commanded attention, the air around you humming with power. You wore a determined expression, eyes glowing faintly with the energy you now controlled with ease. Every movement was purposeful, fluid, as if you had mastered the chaos within yourself.

Logan’s breath caught in his throat as he watched you dismantle the Sentinels with a flick of your wrist, their parts crumbling like dust before they could even touch the ground. It was mesmerizing, seeing you so in control, so strong. You were everything he always knew you could be.

He barely noticed the fight around him as you worked alongside the team, your powers weaving through the battlefield with deadly precision. He had missed you, more than he’d ever let on, and now that you were here, Logan felt a surge of emotions he couldn’t push down anymore.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the battle was over. The mansion was quiet once again, the debris settling as the last of the attackers were dealt with. Logan sheathed his claws, turning to find you standing at the edge of the courtyard, catching your breath.

Without thinking, he approached you, his heart pounding in his chest. The moonlight cast a soft glow over you, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed between you two. Like you hadn’t left.

“You’ve… gotten stronger,” Logan muttered, his voice gruff as he stepped closer to you.

You smiled softly, wiping a bit of dirt from your face. “I’ve had a lot of time to practice.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you. You were still the same person he had fallen for—kind, powerful, a force of nature. But now, there was a sense of peace about you, a control that made you even more breathtaking.

“I didn’t think you’d come back,” Logan admitted, his voice quieter now. “After you left, I figured…”

You shook your head, stepping toward him. “I never wanted to leave. I just… I had to learn to control it. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Logan said, his voice firmer now. “You wouldn’t have hurt anyone, (Y/N).”

You looked at him, your eyes softening. “I wasn’t sure. But now… now I am.”

The silence between you stretched for a moment, the tension thick in the air. Logan wanted to say something, wanted to tell you how much he had missed you, how much it hurt when you left, how he had spent every night thinking about what could have been.

Instead, he just stood there, his jaw clenched as he struggled with the weight of his feelings. But you could sense it, could feel the emotions swirling in him just as clearly as you could see the sparks of chaos energy that still lingered around you.

“Logan…” you started softly, stepping even closer. “Why did you never tell me?”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, confusion crossing his features. “Tell you what?”

“That you care about me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “That you—”

“I thought it was obvious,” Logan cut in, his voice low and gravelly. He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration clear in his tone. “I thought I showed it, every damn day. But you left before I could—” He stopped, shaking his head. “Hell, I didn’t want to push you away.”

Your heart clenched at his words, and suddenly, everything clicked. The looks, the way he always stood just a little closer than anyone else, the way his protectiveness went beyond the usual team dynamic. He had always cared. You had just been too caught up in your own struggles to see it.

“I didn’t leave because of you, Logan,” you said gently. “I left because of me.”

“I know,” he replied quietly. “But it didn’t make it any easier.”

You took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as the chaos energy buzzed under your skin. “I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Logan’s eyes softened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself believe it. Slowly, he reached out, taking your hand in his. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to hold onto you.

But you didn’t pull away. Instead, you squeezed his hand, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

“You’ve always had control,” Logan said quietly. “Over your powers, over everything. You just needed to see it.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “I think I needed someone to remind me.”

Logan’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, his gaze locked on yours. “I’m not good with words, (Y/N). But I care about you. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his confession hitting you like a tidal wave. “Logan…”

“I should’ve said it sooner,” he muttered, looking down at your joined hands. “Should’ve told you how much you mean to me.”

You stepped closer, your free hand reaching up to gently cup his cheek. “I think I already knew.”

Logan’s eyes met yours again, and for the first time in months, the tension between you dissolved. Slowly, carefully, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was both soft and full of unspoken promises.

When you finally pulled away, Logan rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I love you,” he murmured, the words falling from his lips like a secret he had been holding onto for far too long.

Your heart swelled, and with a soft smile, you whispered back, “I love you too, Logan.”

And for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

[geotjwrs]

Hey can you do Wednesday x Male reader Angst. Where Wednesday was too focused on the Hyde case and she neglected reader and their relationship and said reader was a burden and was too clingy every time he gave her unconditional love. The night she kissed Tyler she told him those things and he saw Wednesday kiss Tyler while Wednesday never even hugged reader? And so at the end she feels really bad because she saw he saw. And so she wanted to talk but he just stays quiet? Please and thank you

no one's home

Pairings ; Wednesday Addams x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

The late evening at Nevermore was unusually quiet. The usual whispers of the wind through the trees had stilled, leaving an eerie calm in the air. You stood alone in the courtyard, the dim glow of the moon casting long shadows on the stone floor. Every step you took echoed in the empty space as if mocking your loneliness.

For weeks, you had been trying to reach her—Wednesday. But she had become more and more distant, her attention consumed by the ongoing investigation into the Hyde case. You understood her need for focus, her obsession with solving mysteries, but you couldn't help feeling like you were slipping further and further away from her world.

You leaned against a pillar, running a hand through your hair as you replayed the events of the past few days. Every time you tried to offer her support, love, anything to remind her you were still there for her, she brushed you off. At first, it was subtle—short responses, curt nods. But lately, it had become more than that. She wasn’t just distant; she was cold, indifferent.

You couldn’t help but feel like an outsider in her life, like no matter how much you tried to help her, you were just in the way.

Tonight had been your breaking point.

It was supposed to be a quiet evening between the two of you. You thought you’d have a chance to talk, to remind her that you were still there, that you were still someone she could lean on. But when you arrived at her room, the look on her face had already told you everything.

Wednesday’s gaze had been harder than usual, her expression devoid of even the faintest flicker of emotion. “What are you doing here?” she asked as she entered her room, her voice as cold as the night air.

“I just wanted to see you. I feel like we haven’t—”

“You feel?” she interrupted, her words sharp. “Y/N, I don’t have time for your feelings. I don’t have time for any of this.”

Your heart sank, but you tried to stay calm. “Wednesday, I’m just trying to be here for you. I know this case is important, but I—”

“Important?” She laughed, a humorless sound that made your chest tighten. “Y/N, you don’t understand anything. This case could mean life or death for people at Nevermore, and all you ever do is cling to me like some helpless child. You’re suffocating me.”

The words stung, but you didn’t want to believe them. “I’m just trying to love you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Is that really such a burden?”

“A burden,” she repeated, her eyes narrowing. “Yes. You are a burden. I don’t need your love. I don’t need anything from you. I need space.”

The air between you felt heavy, filled with words that cut deeper than any knife. You stood there, trying to make sense of what was happening. You had always known Wednesday wasn’t the warmest person, but you had never imagined she would say something so hurtful, so cruel.

Before you could find the words to respond, she had already turned on her heel, heading toward the door. “I have more important things to do,” she said without looking back. “If you can’t handle that, then maybe you should leave.”

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving you alone in the cold emptiness of her room. For a moment, all you could do was stare at the space where she had been, your mind racing, heart aching. You had always known Wednesday could be difficult, but this? This was something else entirely.

You followed her, driven by something you couldn’t explain. Maybe you still believed there was a chance to fix things. Maybe you just wanted answers. But as you wandered through the shadows of Nevermore, you stumbled upon a scene that shattered whatever hope you had left.

In the dim light of the woods, Wednesday stood close to Tyler. Too close. Your heart dropped as you watched them, your breath catching in your throat. And then, before you could even process what was happening, she leaned in and kissed him.

The kiss was brief, but it was enough. Your mind went blank, your emotions swirling into a storm of pain, anger, and disbelief. She had never even hugged you, and now, she was kissing someone else. The girl you had poured your heart into, who had brushed aside every gesture of love you offered, was showing more affection to Tyler than she had ever shown you.

You wanted to scream, to confront her, to demand why. But instead, you just stood there, frozen, watching as everything you thought you had crumbled before your eyes.

When Wednesday pulled away from the kiss, her eyes caught yours through the darkness. For a moment, you thought you saw something shift in her expression—shock, maybe even regret. But it was too late.

You turned and walked away, your chest tight with heartbreak, your mind numb. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing you break down. Not here. Not now.

As you made your way back to Nevermore, the weight of her words and actions pressed down on you, suffocating you with every step. You wanted to cry, to scream, to lash out, but all you could do was walk, your body moving on autopilot as your heart shattered.

The next day, Wednesday found you in the library. You were sitting alone, staring blankly at the pages of a book you hadn’t even opened. You didn’t look up when she approached, but you could feel her presence lingering just behind you.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” she said quietly.

You didn’t respond, your hands gripping the edges of the book as if it could somehow anchor you in place.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” she continued, her voice unusually soft. “About you being a burden.”

Still, you said nothing. Your heart ached, and you could feel the storm of emotions threatening to rise to the surface, but you forced them down. She didn’t deserve to see you like this.

Wednesday sat down across from you, her dark eyes searching your face for any sign that you might acknowledge her. “I—” She paused, something uncharacteristically hesitant about her. “I made a mistake.”

For a moment, you almost believed her. Almost. But then the memory of her kissing Tyler flashed through your mind, and the pain surged back with a vengeance.

“You saw, didn’t you?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

You finally looked up, meeting her gaze. Her expression was conflicted, torn between the cold, calculating girl you knew and something deeper, something more vulnerable. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not anymore.

“You kissed him,” you said, your voice flat.

She didn’t deny it. “It was a mistake.”

“Was it?” you asked, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “You’ve never even touched me like that. Not once. But him? You didn’t hesitate.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Wednesday replied, her voice steady but softer than you’d ever heard it before. “I was consumed by the case. By everything.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “That’s your excuse? You were too focused on the case? That’s why you kissed him?”

Her silence told you everything. She didn’t have a real answer. Maybe she was sorry, maybe she wasn’t, but it didn’t change what had happened. It didn’t change the way she had made you feel—like you were nothing. Like you were disposable.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she admitted after a long pause.

You stood up, unable to bear sitting there any longer. “I don’t think there’s anything you can say, Wednesday.”

As you walked away, you could feel her eyes on you, but she didn’t call after you. Maybe she knew there was no point. Maybe she realized too late that some things couldn’t be undone.

For the next few days, you kept your distance. Every time you saw her in the hallways of Nevermore, you turned away, your chest tightening with a mix of anger and sadness. You had given her everything—your love, your loyalty, your trust—and she had thrown it all away.

But things didn’t end there. Not for Wednesday.

One night, as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, you heard a knock at your door. You knew who it was before you even opened it.

She stood there, her arms crossed, looking as composed as ever, but you could see the tension in her posture, the faint flicker of regret in her eyes.

“Can we talk?” she asked quietly.

You hesitated but stepped aside, letting her in. She walked to the center of the room, standing there like she didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

After a long moment of silence, she spoke. “I can’t undo what I did. I know that.”

You stayed quiet, unsure where she was going with this.

“But I also know I don’t want to lose you.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. Part of you wanted to believe her, wanted to forgive her and move on. But the other part—the part that had been broken by her actions—couldn’t forget.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, as if she had expected that. “I understand. But I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m asking for a second chance.”

You looked at her, at the girl who had broken your heart but who was now standing in front of you, raw and unguarded in a way you had never seen before. And for the first time, you saw something in her eyes that made you pause—something real.

“I’ll think about it,” you said finally, not ready to give her an answer just yet.

And with that, she nodded, quietly leaving your room, leaving you to sit in the quiet darkness, wondering if second chances were worth the risk.

[hotgirlssupportlando]

one day x lando norris pt 4

this is a part of my series following one day of every summer from 2016 onwards in y/n’s and lando's lives, exploring their friendship and love for one another. ofc not a smooth ride with some angst and fights along the way. a friends to lovers, growing up together kind of thing. read first part here pairing: lando norris x fem!reader summary of this part: y/n attending lando's first home race in f1, but her expectations weren't really met warnings: kinda sad :( wc: 1,4k a/n: probably a couple of sad parts now in this series but bear with me!! a one day -series can't only be rainbows and butterflies hehe

summer of 2019

Silverstone Circuit, England

y/n was beyond excited getting her invite from lando to attend his first ever home race in f1. she couldn’t believ that the random boy she had met a few years ago now was one of the top twenty drivers in the world. seeing her best friend advancing in the sport truly made her proud, who would’ve thought he’d be going this far? since day one she had always supported her friend both on track and at distance, nowadays most through late night facetime calls as she was still in Edinburgh studying and Lando traveling all around the world. 

however, now after being months apart the pair would finally meet again and oh my, was she excited!! she couldn’t help but smile sitting in the taxi on her way to silverstone, headphones in listening to her and landos shared playlist. she fiddled with her mclaren paddock pass that already, proudly, was hanging around her neck, closely reading (for maybe the hundredth time) that all the personal information was correct, it would be just typical lan to spell something wrong and causing her trouble. as soon as the paddock pass had arrived in the mail at her uni dorm she had started planning her outfit, carefully picking out clothes and accessories that would perfectly match the colours on the pass. as the self-conscious being she was, she wanted to be prepared, not wanting to make a fool of herself or lando by turning up as a girl who didn’t look like she belonged there.  

now she was sat stroking her new white dress, contemplating whether it was too boring or too much, and what would lando think, would he like it? and why didn’t she take the other dress instead, it would have looked much better! her mind was racing, overthinking every little thing that came to mind and her worries quickly aggravated looking outside the cab window at all the beautifully looking fans that stood waiting outside the paddock hoping to see their favourite drive appear from one of the taxis. oh well, she thought, there’s nothing i can do about it now. she took a deep breath before exiting the car, shyly walking toward the entrance where she blipped her paddock pass and quickly rushed away headed towards the big mclaren sign in the distance. overwhelmed by the situation she just wanted to see lando, knowing that his presence would calm her nerves.

after some walking she finally arrived at the mclaren hospitality, almost immediately spotting jon, lando’s trainer. ”hi we’ve only seen each other through facetime but i’m y/n l/n, landos friend”, she said approaching jon. ”oh hello, i thought i recognized you from somewhere!” he smiled, ”you’re probably looking for lando?”. y/n nodded smilingly. jon looked around a bit worried, telling her that he should be here somewhere but that his schedule had been a bit hectic this race day morning. she was offered to wait in the hospitality while jon was gonna go tell lando that she had arrived. with a good mood she went and grabbed a tea, sitting at a table that overlooked mclaren’s part of the pit lane. 

after scrolling a bit on her phone and texting her friend, she saw in her periphery, more specifically in the garage, a familiar looking boy. he was giving some fangirls a tour around the garage, letting one and one test sit in his car. he looked so happy, being in his element. after a short while jon approached lando, and by his lips y/n could read something about her arrival. landos reaction was cute, he seemed excited that she was there but didn’t seem ready to come meet her just yet. y/n was just glad she had seen him at a distance and didn’t mind waiting for some time longer, she had already waited several months so what harm could another hour do?

if it only had been an hour or two or even three.. patiently she sat waiting, looking at the clock seeing it was nearly time for race preparations. nope, she thought, if she wanted to see him she would need to take it into her own hands, and that’s what she did. confidently she walked the same route she had seen jon take to the garage and after getting lost a couple times she found a visitor friendly spot. at the same place other high paying fans were stood looking at the team doing their pre race preparations. lando, as the kind boy he was, of course greeted the fans and let them take pictures with him. shortly after he spotted y/n who stood with a huge smile and open arms to greet him in an usual hug, but she wasn’t met by the same excitement. a rather cold and quick hug was what she got, from a boy that felt unexpectedly unfamiliar. a bit caught of guard by the reception and embarrassed by the amount of people that had seen this awkward encounter she felt like running far away. somehow she managed to still ask lando if their agreed meetup after the race was still on, to which she received a short ”yeah, sure”. 

stunned from the whole situation she went back up to the hospitality and watched the race in some kind of haze. wtf was that? she didn’t have to be here, lando was the one that invited her there, didn’t some good old kindness include in that package? presumably not then. her thoughts wandered, shocked that the boy she had known for years abruptly was someone totally else, just because they weren’t alone, the two of them, as they usually was. or was she overreacting? maybe it wasn’t that bad. or maybe this was her fault? she could’ve put a bit more makeup on and change the dress so that she would’ve been prettier, maybe that was the problem, that she wasn’t as pretty as the other girls in the paddock. 

in the middle of her overthinking someone patted her on the shoulder making her jump of fear out of her seat. ”sorry sorry sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you” a familiar voice half laughed, half tried to sound serious. she turned around meeting a pair of kind brown eyes, it was carlos sainz she remembered, lando’s teammate. ”are you waiting for someone?” he asked. y/n looked at the clock, it was late, somehow she had been thinking about her own problems so long that she hadn’t noticed that the race was done ages ago and that the other hospitality guests had gone home. ”oh yeah, i was waiting for lando, he’s my friend, but i guess he has forgotten about me.. again” y/n said not covering her disappointment very well. carlos smiled compassionately, like he understood, ”i’m sorry.. i remember when i was new to f1, everything’s so new and exciting that sometimes the one’s that has been with you from the start gets left behind..”. ”well, thats assuring” y/n laughed quietly as she felt her eyes tearing up. ”noo sorry, y/n was it? i didn’t mean to upset you, what i meant to say was that in the beginning you get kind of caught up in the fame and girls running after you, but when you settle in to the sport you sooner or later understand who the real one’s are” he said and gently hugged you afterwards. y/n sniffled after the hug ”well i hope so.. this wasn’t at all what i expected from this day” she sighed walking towards the door out of the hospitality. ”i’m certain he will come around, some new drivers take more time than others to realize that all the new attention is just empty and fake, nothing that can compare to a girl that waited the clock around to hopefully see her friend” he smiled trying to cheer y/n up. a small smile cracked on her face as she thanked him whilst they walked out of hospitality together. 

they didn’t have to walk very far before she heard lando’s familiar laugh, y/n turning around to spot lando in the distance, flirting with some very beautiful girls, noticing how he didn’t have a thought in the world about his old friend. she felt her heart sink and eyes tearing up again, was she really that forgettable? if anything, it only confirmed all her self-conscious thoughts. carlos that was walking beside her noticed the same as her and immediately connected his eyes with y/n’s, giving her a compassionate look while hugging her from the side. ”don’t you worry darling, remember my words”

_____

taglist

@amberpanda99 @phantomxoxo @landossainz @chezmardybum @lan4cha16 @tvdtw4ever @starlit-skiessss @dorothea47

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER SEVEN

“i want something that i know is real”

pairings — judexblack!girl

genres — fluff, slow burn, workplace romance (she’s a pt)

warnings — sexual themes (minors dni)

word count — 6.3k

summary — y/n, a rising physiotherapist, has just been promoted to work with real madrid's men's team. after a difficult breakup, she's determined to keep things professional. but when jude bellingham, the club's charming new star, sets his sights on her, maintaining boundaries becomes harder than ever. can she resist the pull, or will she risk everything for a love she swore she’d never fall for again?

an — the last chapter 🥲 i can’t even put into words how much i appreciate the love and support even after deleting my blog seeing the same accounts comment and like these chapters has never failed to make me happy! i am beyond grateful. if you’re still interested this couple, i’ll be releasing blurb series. the first one is posted and requests are open <3

masterlist

the room was a blur of activity, voices overlapping as the medical team worked efficiently around jude. he sat there, trying to focus on the steady stream of questions and instructions being thrown his way, but his mind kept drifting back to the moment it all went wrong.

the match had been intense, emotions running high, and jude had let his temper get the best of him. he remembered the argument with the opposing player, the heated words exchanged, the rush of adrenaline that followed. it was all so vivid in his mind—how he’d felt the anger simmering beneath his skin, how he’d wanted to prove himself in that split second, to win the ball, to show he wasn’t one to back down.

but then it happened. they both went up for the header, and time seemed to stretch out in front of him. the roar of the crowd faded into the background as he focused on the ball, his body moving instinctively. he remembered the sensation of losing his balance, the way the ground seemed to rise up to meet him, the sickening thud as his head hit the turf. the world tilted, the lights above blurring into a dizzying swirl, and for a moment, everything went black.

now, back in the medical room, jude felt the residual throbbing in his head, a dull ache that pulsed with every beat of his heart. his family was there—his mom, denise, hovering close by with worry etched into her features; his dad, mark, standing stoically but with an unmistakable tension in his posture; and his younger brother, jobe, sitting quietly in the corner, his wide eyes filled with concern.

y/n was there too, but she kept her distance, her eyes avoiding his. jude could tell she was upset—really upset—by the way she kept herself apart from the others, by the tightness in her expression that she couldn’t quite hide. she only stepped forward when one of the other medics called for her, her movements precise and professional, but there was an underlying tension in everything she did.

jude couldn’t shake the feeling that she was mad at him, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. maybe it was because he’d been reckless, because he’d let his emotions get the better of him on the pitch. maybe it was because she’d seen the whole thing happen, the way he went down, the way he didn’t get back up right away. the thought of her worrying, of her being scared for him, gnawed at him.

they ran through the tests—checking his reflexes, his coordination, asking him questions to assess his memory and cognition. jude answered as best he could, but his focus kept drifting back to y/n. he hated that she was so distant, that she wouldn’t even look at him. it hurt more than the injury itself.

“he’s going to be okay, right?” denise asked one of the medics, her voice trembling slightly.

“we’re running all the necessary tests, mrs. bellingham,” the medic replied calmly, “but so far, everything looks stable. we’ll have a better idea once we review the scans.”

jude’s parents exchanged a worried glance, but denise nodded, trying to stay strong. jobe looked over at jude, his young face pale with concern.

“you’ll be fine, jude,” jobe said softly, trying to sound confident, though his voice wavered just a bit.

jude managed a small smile, wanting to reassure his brother, but the heaviness in his chest remained. when the tests were finally over, his mom asked if he needed help getting home, and mark added, “we can get you settled in, jude. don’t worry about anything.”

“actually,” denise said, glancing over at y/n, “maybe y/n could take you home? you two spend a lot of time together, and she knows how to take care of you.”

the room seemed to freeze at that suggestion, the tension thickening. jude saw the way y/n stiffened at his mom’s words, how she hesitated before nodding, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“yeah… sure. i’ll take him home,” y/n said quietly, her voice tinged with something jude couldn’t quite place.

jude watched as y/n carefully checked his vitals, her fingers deftly adjusting the blood pressure cuff around his arm. even in her quiet, focused state, she was breathtaking. he couldn’t help but study her—how the light caught in her braids, the way her brows furrowed in concentration, and how every now and then, her lips would press into a thin line, as if she was holding something back. he knew she was upset with him, and it pained him more than the throbbing in his head.

he thought back to earlier, to how her distance had been like a wall between them, and how badly he wanted to break through it. it wasn’t just that she was pulling back; it was the way she did it, so carefully and deliberately, as if she was trying to protect herself from him. it killed him to think that his actions had made her feel this way, that he’d been the cause of her worry, of her pain. he’d been reckless, and now she was paying the price for it.

“baby,” he whispered, the word slipping out before he could stop it.

y/n froze at the sound of his voice, her hand stilling on his arm. for a moment, she didn’t move, and jude’s heart sank, fearing that he’d overstepped, that he’d made things worse. but then she looked up at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears, and jude felt his heart crack open.

“why are you crying?” he asked gently, reaching out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped.

y/n shook her head, her breath hitching as she tried to find the right words. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “i’m sorry for being so distant… it’s just—” she paused, taking a shaky breath, her eyes glistening as she continued, “the replay looked so bad, jude. i thought you had a brain injury, or worse… and i couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened to you.”

jude’s heart ached at her words, at the raw emotion in her voice. he could see how much she was struggling, how much this had affected her, and it made him feel even worse for having been the cause of it. he shushed her gently, his hand moving to cradle her face, trying to offer her some comfort.

“hey, i’m okay,” he murmured, guiding her hand to his cheek so she could feel the warmth of him, the steady beat of his pulse beneath her fingers. “i’m right here, love. i’m okay.”

y/n let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch as she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just… i feel it every time you go out there, every time you risk your body like that. and today, seeing you go down like that… it scared me so much. i couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

her voice cracked, and jude could see how much she was holding back, how hard she was trying to keep it together. he wanted to pull her into his arms, to tell her everything was going to be okay, but he knew she needed to get this out, to say what was on her heart.

“it’s not just today, jude,” she went on, her voice trembling with emotion. “i think… i think i’ve always felt this way, even before i realized it. it’s like, every time i see you, my heart just… it does this thing where it skips a beat, and i can hardly breath. i try to ignore it, but i can’t.”

she paused, her breath hitching as she tried to gather her courage. jude held his breath, sensing that she was about to say something that would change everything between them.

“i love you,” she finally confessed, the words spilling out in a rush of emotion. “i’m in love with you, jude. i’ve probably always loved you… from the moment i laid eyes on you, you just… you never left me alone. no matter how much i tried to keep things professional, to keep my distance, you kept finding ways to break through. and i’m scared, jude. i’m so scared of what this means, of what could happen… but i can’t ignore it anymore. i love you, jude.”

the weight of her words hung in the air between them, heavy and full of meaning. jude felt his heart swell with emotion, a rush of warmth flooding through him at her confession. she loved him. she loved him. it was everything he’d ever wanted to hear, everything he’d been hoping for since the moment he first saw her.

he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, as if he could protect her from all the fears and uncertainties that were swirling around them. “i love you too,” he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve loved you since that day you took care of me when i was sick… maybe even before that. you’re everything to me, y/n. everything.”

she clung to him, her breath hitching as she tried to process the magnitude of what they’d just shared. jude pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closing as he breathed her in, the scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin. he’d been so scared of losing her, so afraid that he’d pushed her too far, but now… now everything felt right.

“i’m sorry i scared you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “i never want to make you worry like that again. but i promise you, y/n, i’ll always do my best to come back to you. always.”

y/n nodded, her tears slipping down her cheeks as she held onto him, her heart finally at peace. “i know,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “i know, jude. and i’ll always be here for you. no matter what.”

they stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away until it was just the two of them in that room, together. for the first time in what felt like forever, everything was exactly as it should be. they had each other, and that was all that mattered.

the morning light streamed through the curtains of y/n’s bedroom, casting a warm glow on the space as jude slowly blinked awake. the memories of last night still lingered in the air between them—soft confessions of love that had left them both feeling light and warm, a tenderness that neither of them could shake off.

jude turned his head, eyes landing on y/n, who was already up and dressed, fussing with something at her bedside table. he couldn’t help but smile as he watched her, still wrapped up in her oversized t-shirt that he had insisted she wear—one of his favorites that practically swallowed her whole, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs. she was gorgeous, and he felt a twinge of guilt for making her worry so much yesterday, the fear in her eyes when he’d gotten hurt replaying in his mind.

“good morning, mi amor,” she said softly, noticing he was awake. the endearment slipped easily from her lips, a habit she hadn’t quite realized she’d picked up. she leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, mindful of his injury. “how are you feeling?”

“better,” jude replied, his voice still thick with sleep. “could get used to waking up like this.”

y/n smiled, brushing a hand through his curls, and for a moment, they both just enjoyed the quiet intimacy of the morning.

but jude, ever the tease, wasn’t content with just that. he slid his hand to the back of her knee, tugging her gently closer. “you know, you could make me feel even better if you come back to bed…”

she rolled her eyes playfully, swatting his hand away. “nice try, bellingham. doctor’s orders—no physical activity that could aggravate your head, and that includes whatever you’re trying to start.”

jude groaned dramatically, flopping back against the pillows. “stop teasing me, baby. you can’t just look all sexy in my shirt and then not let me touch you.”

“i’m not teasing you,” y/n shot back, trying to hide her smile. “i’m just trying to keep you safe, you big baby. besides, i’m not the one who decided to start a fight on the pitch.”

“i wasn’t fighting,” jude mumbled, though he knew it was a weak defense. “just... heated discussions.”

“uh-huh,” she said, not buying it for a second. “well, heated discussions or not, you’re under my care now, so no funny business. doctor’s orders.”

jude pouted, but he knew she was right. still, it didn’t stop him from reaching out to grab her wrist, pulling her down onto the bed beside him. “just five more minutes, please?” he pleaded, his voice low and sweet, the kind of tone that made it hard for her to resist.

“five minutes,” y/n relented, settling beside him and letting him pull her close. she felt his warmth seep into her, and despite her better judgment, she let herself relax into him, her head resting on his chest. “but no funny business.”

“promise,” jude murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. he felt her sigh against him, her breath warm against his skin, and for a moment, everything felt right in the world.

as they lay there, the lightness of their confession still hanging between them, jude couldn’t help but think about how much he adored her, how every little thing she did seemed to make him fall even harder. the way she fussed over him, how she was constantly updating his family on his condition, how she’d made sure he was as comfortable as possible—he loved every bit of it.

he especially loved how close she was with his mum. every time y/n picked up her phone to send another update, jude couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. knowing that his family trusted her, that his mum was reassured by her care, made his heart swell.

“i like that you and my mum are close,” jude admitted quietly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her arm. “makes me so happy.”

“she’s wonderful,” y/n said, tilting her head to look up at him. “and she cares about you so much. i’m just glad i can help ease her worries a bit.”

“she likes you, you know,” jude said, his voice teasing. “she keeps asking me when i’m gonna make an honest woman out of you.”

y/n laughed softly, but she couldn’t help the flutter in her chest at his words. “oh, is that so? and what did you tell her?”

“told her that you’re mine, and that’s all that matters,” he replied with a grin, pulling her closer. “but don’t worry, baby. i’ll work on the ‘honest woman’ part.”

she blushed, the implications of his words making her heart race. “you better, my mom and aunties have the wedding already planned. you can’t put a price on me, mr. bellingham. do you think you deserve me?”

“i know i do because you love me. no other man could take care of you like i can,” jude shot back, a playful glint in his eyes.

y/n rolled her eyes again, but she couldn’t hide her smile. “yeah, yeah. now, let me check your head before you get any more ideas.”

“always so bossy,” jude teased, though there was no bite to his words. “turns me on.”

y/n huffed a laugh, gently moving his face away with a light shove. “don’t even start,” she said, though she couldn’t help the fondness in her voice. “you’re supposed to be resting.”

“i am resting,” he protested, catching her hand in his. “just resting better now that you’re here.”

y/n shook her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered, leaning down to brush her lips against his once more. “now behave, or i’ll have to call your mum and tell her you’re being difficult.”

“you wouldn’t dare,” jude gasped, feigning shock.

“try me,” she shot back, smirking as she sat up to check his bandage. “now, sit still, or i’ll add ‘uncooperative patient’ to my report.”

jude couldn’t help but laugh, loving how easily they fell into this playful banter. the way she cared for him, how she balanced between strict and loving—it made him fall even more for her. and as they spent the day together, with her tending to his every need and him trying to push her buttons just enough to get a reaction, jude couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this—a life where they shared these little moments, where she was always there to look after him, to keep him in line, to love him the way she did.

and as the day drew on, with the light fading and the warmth of their shared confessions still lingering, jude found himself feeling more content than he ever had. because in her, he had found everything he’d ever wanted—someone who challenged him, cared for him, and loved him with a heart so pure and true that he couldn’t help but love her back just as fiercely.

and for jude, that was more than enough.

the next day, y/n’s place was a full house. jude had a bit of time off to recover, and it seemed like everyone wanted to pitch in, making sure he got better. the sun streamed through the windows, filling the space with warmth as laughter echoed off the walls. y/n’s mom had arrived early, her arms full of groceries and herbal remedies she swore would have jude back on his feet in no time.

denise, jude’s mom, wasn’t far behind, bringing homemade soup that she claimed was a family secret for healing. it didn’t take long for y/n’s mom and denise to strike up a conversation, the two women instantly connecting as they compared notes on how to best take care of their kids. y/n watched them from the kitchen, her heart swelling with affection at how easily they got along. it felt right, having both families together like this.

jude, seated on the couch, couldn’t help but smile as he observed the scene. the sight of y/n moving around her home, effortlessly playing hostess, made him feel a sense of contentment he hadn’t known he needed. he loved seeing her like this, surrounded by the people she loved, comfortable in her own space. and it didn’t hurt that she kept sneaking glances his way, her eyes soft with affection every time they met his.

“hey auntie,” jude called out with a grin when y/n’s mom entered the living room, holding up a jar of some mystery concoction. “what’s that you’ve got there?”

y/n’s mom shot him a mock-serious look, her lips twitching with amusement. “this, my child, is going to help you heal faster than anything those doctors can give you.”

jude chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. “i believe you, auntie. if it means getting better faster, i’m all for it.”

she finally cracked a smile, her eyes warm as she looked at him. “that’s what i like to hear. now, i know denise here has her soup, but you’re going to take this too. we’ve got to get you back on that pitch, don’t we?”

“yes, ma’am,” jude replied, his tone respectful, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. “you’re the boss.”

“good boy,” she said, patting his shoulder affectionately before turning to y/n. “and you, my beautiful daughter, make sure he takes this every morning. no slacking, got it?”

y/n nodded, trying to suppress her grin. “yes, mama. i’ll make sure of it.”

meanwhile, jobe and y/n’s brother, mateo, were deep in conversation on the other side of the room. they’d hit it off immediately, both sharing a love for football and an endless supply of banter.

“so, how’s it feel to be the little brother of a superstar?” mateo teased, nudging jobe with his elbow.

jobe rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile on his face. “it’s not too bad, i guess. but don’t tell jude i said that. his ego’s big enough as it is.”

mateo laughed, clapping jobe on the back. “don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. besides, i’m pretty sure he knows it already.”

“oh, he definitely does,” jobe said, glancing over at his brother. “but you know what? he deserves it. he’s worked hard to get where he is.”

“true,” mateo agreed, his tone more serious now. “and from what i’ve seen, he’s a good guy too. you’re lucky to have him as a brother.”

jobe nodded, a small smile on his lips. “yeah, i am. and it’s nice to see him happy, you know? especially with y/n. she’s good for him.”

mateo glanced over at his sister, who was now standing with jude, both of them laughing at something y/n’s mom had said. “yeah, she is,” he said softly, his voice filled with affection. “they’re good for each other.”

as the day went on, the house was filled with warmth and laughter. y/n’s mom continued to fuss over jude, making sure he was comfortable and well-fed. denise joined in, the two women bonding over their shared love for their children and their determination to see jude back to full health.

“you know, jude,” y/n’s mom said at one point, sitting beside him on the couch, “you’re like a son to me now. you take care of my daughter, and we’ll take care of you.”

jude felt a lump form in his throat at her words, the sincerity in her tone hitting him right in the chest. “thank you, auntie,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “that means a lot to me.”

she reached out, patting his cheek with a motherly affection that made him feel warm all over. “you’re a good boy, jude. we’re lucky to have you in our family.”

he smiled at that, his heart swelling with gratitude. “i’m the lucky one,” he murmured, his eyes meeting y/n’s across the room. she smiled back at him, her eyes filled with so much love it made his chest tighten.

“he really is,” denise chimed in, her voice light and full of pride. “and we’re so grateful to have y/n in his life. she’s been nothing but a blessing.”

“oh, don’t get me started on how much i love that girl,” y/n’s mom said with a laugh. “she’s always been the best of us.”

jude listened to them talk, his heart so full it felt like it might burst. he loved that their families were coming together like this, that the people he cared about most were finding comfort and companionship in each other. it made everything feel more real, more solid. like they were building something that would last.

as the afternoon wore on, the atmosphere remained light and filled with love. y/n’s mom kept him supplied with tea and herbal remedies, while denise made sure he had everything else he needed. jobe and mateo continued their banter, occasionally roping jude in when they needed a third opinion on whatever argument they were having.

the warm hum of conversation filled y/n's living room as their families mingled effortlessly, laughter spilling into the air. y/n sat nestled comfortably beside jude, his arm slung lazily over her shoulders as they watched their families interact like they’d known each other for years. her mom and denise were in the kitchen, bonding over cooking tips, while her brothers hovered around the snack table, throwing sly glances her way every now and then.

carlos, always the one to start trouble, leaned back with a mischievous smirk. “so jude, be honest,” he called out, loud enough to grab everyone’s attention. “are you tired of how bossy y/n is? how many times has she told you what to do?”

mateo snickered beside him, chiming in. “yeah, man, because we know y/n—she’s always telling us off.”

without missing a beat, jude grinned, a cheeky glint in his eye. “oh, trust me,” he said, voice dropping suggestively, “i don’t mind her bossing me around… especially when—”

y/n’s eyes widened in horror as she shot up from the couch, grabbing at jude’s arm. “don't you dare finish that sentence,” she groaned, trying to pull away, but he only laughed, dragging her back down to his side with ease, planting a soft kiss on her cheek, to which y/n met with a playful sideways glance.

“what? i was just being honest,” he teased, his voice low but full of amusement.

her brothers looked visibly disgusted. alejandro covered his face with his hand. "we don’t need to know what happens behind closed doors, man.”

mateo pointed at them both, face scrunched in mock disgust. “yeah, no one wants to hear about our baby sister doing… whatever that is.”

“seriously, pack it up,” carlos added, shaking his head. “this is a family gathering, not… whatever this is.”

y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. “you’re all so dramatic.”

“seriously,” jude added with a smirk, pulling her closer. “it’s just because i’m the only one here who knows how to keep a woman like y/n happy.”

y/n's eyes widened as she pinched his side, hissing under her breath. “jude, shut up or i'll kill you!”

“what?” jude laughed, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “it’s the truth.”

“god, jude,” mateo groaned, dramatically covering his face. “that’s so corny. i think i just threw up in my mouth a little.”

alejandro waved a hand in front of his face. “someone send this boy back to england. we get it, you’re obsessed with my sister.”

jude only laughed harder, leaning into the joke. “what can i say? i’m a man in love.”

carlos pretended to gag. “pack it up, hermano. we don’t need to see all that.”

alejandro shook his head, feigning disgust. “we’ll be fine without my baby sister getting mounted by her boyfriend infront of us, thanks. but really, y/n—how did you manage to do this to a man. he's too soft. it's disgusting.”

“right?” mateo agreed. “this dude was supposed to be cool. now he’s all… whipped.”

jude just laughed, squeezing her affectionately. “hey, i was always a charmer. i won you guys over, didn’t i?”

“please. just stop speaking,” mateo groaned again, holding up his hands as if to ward off more cheesiness. “i beg of you.”

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile on her lips. despite the relentless teasing, she knew how much her brothers cared about her, and seeing how easily jude fit into their dynamic made her heart swell.

their banter continued, the playful teasing bouncing back and forth, but through it all, y/n couldn’t help but feel a warmth settle in her chest. despite the jokes and teasing, it was clear how much her brothers cared—not just for her, but for jude too. and seeing their two families blend so seamlessly made her heart swell with happiness.

as the day drew to a close, y/n found herself sitting beside jude on the couch, his arm draped casually over her shoulders. she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as they watched jobe and mateo argue about something trivial. her mom and denise were in the kitchen, chatting and laughing like they’d known each other for years.

“if we get more days like this. i’ll die a happy man,” jude murmured, his voice soft in her ear.

“today was a good day,” y/n agreed, her voice just as quiet. “i’m glad everyone came together like this.”

“me too,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i love you, y/n.”

she smiled, turning her head to look up at him. “i love you too, jude.”

and in that moment, with their families around them and the love they shared filling the room, everything felt perfect. they were building something real, something lasting. and y/n knew, without a doubt, that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

the next morning, jude woke up with an idea. it was simple, but it felt like the right thing to do. after the whirlwind of the past few days—the stolen kisses, the moments they shared, and y/n taking care of him when he was sick—he knew she deserved something special. something that would show her just how much she meant to him without overwhelming her with words.

his plan came together quickly, thanks to her brothers and jobe, who were more than willing to help out. while y/n was busy at the training facility, working her usual long hours, they got to work.

later that evening, when y/n came home, jude was already waiting for her at the door, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous smile.

“what’s with that look?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him, already suspicious but curious.

he chuckled, reaching for her hand. “come with me. i’ve got a surprise for you.”

“another one? you’ve been full of surprises lately,” she teased, letting him gently pull her toward the car, her heart already racing a little with excitement. there was something about the way he held her hand, firm but soft, that made her feel like whatever he had planned would be unforgettable.

they drove through the city, the setting sun casting a soft golden glow over madrid’s streets. slowly, the cityscape gave way to quieter roads, the urban sprawl replaced by the peaceful, open stretch toward the coast. y/n glanced at jude, who was focused on the road but never let go of her hand. her mind was buzzing, trying to piece together what he was planning, but her heart told her to simply trust him. whatever it was, it was going to be special.

after a while, jude pulled up to a secluded beach just outside the city. the gentle sound of waves greeted them as they stepped out of the car, the salty air filling their lungs. the beach was completely empty except for one beautiful setup by the shore—a large canopy draped in soft white fabric, twinkling fairy lights strung across the top, with a low table set for two underneath. candles flickered gently in the evening breeze, and a cozy arrangement of blankets and cushions were scattered across the sand.

y/n’s jaw dropped. “jude… what is this?”

“i wanted to do something for you,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. “you’ve done so much for me. taking care of me, introducing me to your family… i wanted to make tonight about you. no distractions, just us. and your brothers—alejandro, matteo, and carlos and jobe helped me out.”

her heart melted at the thought. she looked around the beach, overwhelmed by how thoughtful it all was. “this is… this is incredible,” she whispered.

“you deserve it,” he said, his voice gentle as he took her hand again, leading her down toward the canopy. “come on, let’s eat.”

as they sat under the glow of the fairy lights, the waves lapping quietly at the shore, jude couldn’t stop watching her. the way her eyes sparkled as she took everything in, the soft smile that never left her lips—it made his heart swell. this was it. this was where he wanted to be, with her, always.

“you really went all out for this,” y/n murmured, brushing her hand across the soft blanket beneath her.

“well, i had some help,” jude chuckled. “alejandro’s got a real eye for this kind of thing. matteo and carlos handled the heavy lifting, and jobe… well, he mostly just took notes for when it’s his turn.”

y/n laughed, the sound like music to jude’s ears. “i can’t believe you got them to do all this without me noticing.”

jude shrugged, grinning. “they love you. and i may have told them it was payback for you taking care of me when i was sick.”

her smile widened, her heart swelling even more at the thought of her brothers working with jude to make this night so special for her. “they’re going to lord this over me forever, you know. especially alejandro.”

jude leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “oh, he did say something about being ‘the best brother ever,’ but honestly? i think he’s just happy to see you happy.”

y/n’s chest tightened with emotion. her brothers and jude—these were the people who mattered most to her. to see them come together like this, to make her feel so loved, so cherished, it was overwhelming in the best way possible.

they ate, laughed, and talked for hours, their conversation flowing easily as the stars twinkled overhead. the world around them grew quieter, as if the night itself was making room for just the two of them. at one point, jude reached across the table, taking her hand, his thumb gently tracing circles over her knuckles.

“i’ve never had anything like this before,” he said quietly, his voice thoughtful.

y/n looked up from her plate, her brow furrowing slightly. “like what?”

“this,” jude said, gesturing vaguely at the beach setup, but meaning so much more. “family. love. everything coming together the way it has. it’s like… everything’s falling into place.”

y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her throat suddenly tight with emotion. she could see it in his eyes—the vulnerability, the sincerity behind his words. he wasn’t just talking about the night. he was talking about her, about them. about everything they’d been building together. and in that moment, it felt like the last piece of her heart finally clicked into place.

“me too,” she whispered, her voice catching slightly. “after everything with javier… i never thought i’d feel safe again. but with you, i do.”

jude’s hand tightened around hers, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “you are safe with me,” he murmured against her temple. “always.”

y/n closed her eyes, sinking into the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against her cheek. this was it. this was everything. and when jude leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

when they pulled away, her eyes met his, and for a second, everything else fell away. it was just them, under the stars, with the sound of the ocean in the background.

“i love you,” she whispered, her voice soft but steady.

jude’s eyes lit up, his smile spreading slowly across his face. “i love you too, baby. you’re my everything.”

y/n’s heart swelled with a deep, unspoken gratitude. her brothers were her world, and jude, knowing how much they meant to her, had woven them into this moment effortlessly. it was more than she could ever ask for, more than she could ever express. how does he do it? how does he always make everything feel so right?

as a comfortable silence settled between them, the waves crashing softly against the shore, a playful thought popped into y/n’s mind. she glanced at jude, her lips curving into a mischievous smile as she stood, slowly stepping towards him with an unmistakable intent in her eyes.

jude’s brow quirked up, a smirk tugging at his lips. “and what do you think you’re doing?” he teased, already sensing where this was going.

y/n settled onto his lap, her legs on either side of his hips, hands lightly resting on his chest. she leaned in, her lips just inches from his. “we’re alone,” she whispered coyly, her breath warm against his skin. “and as your team doctor... i think you’re officially cleared for physical activity.”

jude's eyes darkened with playful intent, his hands instinctively finding her hips, thumbs grazing her skin in soft, deliberate circles. “yeah? what’d you have in mind?” his voice was low, dripping with that teasing challenge that always made her heart race.

without another word, she closed the distance between them, her lips capturing his in a slow, deep kiss that left no room for questions. her fingers trailed up to cup his jaw, pulling him closer as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving just the two of them beneath the starlit sky.

jude responded immediately, his hands tightening their grip, pulling her impossibly closer until there was nothing between them but the warmth of their bodies and the shared rhythm of their heartbeats. time felt like it stood still, the only thing that mattered was the way she made him feel—like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

when they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, jude's lips quirked into a crooked grin. “you'll have to clear me like that everytime, baby,” he teased, his voice a husky rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

y/n bit her lip, her gaze still playful as her fingers traced the line of his jaw. “well, i take my job very seriously.”

he let out a soft laugh, his hand moving up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “you make me crazy, you know that?” his tone was teasing, but there was a depth behind it, a weight to the words that made her heart squeeze with affection.

she stared into his eyes, her heart swelling with a sudden rush of emotion she couldn’t hold back any longer. “i love you, jude,” she whispered softly, her voice barely above a breath but carrying all the weight of her feelings.

his teasing smile softened into something tender as he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “i love you too, y/n,” he whispered back, his arms wrapping tighter around her as though he never wanted to let her go. “more than anything.”

they sat there, wrapped up in each other, the sound of the ocean serenading their quiet moment, and for y/n, there was no doubt in her mind—this, right here, was exactly where she was meant to be.

© PDRIESTA 2024

taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona @treble-snot

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 3 of 3)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

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

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; recollected memories of traumatic situations; crying + feelings of sadness; self deprecation; use of heart monitors; sexual/manual stimulation f!receiving (both by jake and not by jake); Agoraphilia; vivid memories of sexual encounters; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; jealous!jake; possessive!jake; jealous!reader; gender reveal; pregnancy hormones; reader is emotional and making rash decisions; reader and jake continue to be STUBBORN; cheating; lots of jake’s pov; heavy petting; kissing of the neck; drinking game; excessive drinking; very sad and drunk Sammy :(; Maya begins showing her true colors (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter 11 (Part 3) Word Count: 42.8k+ (yeahhhh… when I tell you I’ve been working on this one for months, I mean it. Chapter 12 is also now a continuation of this chapter bc of the paragraph limit… so, let’s just say the length is… intense. I’ve been writing lots of words for the past few months lol)

a/n: I'm back and I missed you all so incredibly much. Now, onto the downward (or upward?) spiral of our beloved Covet! The rollercoaster ride is far from over... ;)

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

an additional thank u to @allof-ourlove, @alwaysonthemend, @builtbybrokenbells, and @welightthefire. Thank you, my loves, for always having the right words to encourage me amidst life’s stresses. I love you guys so much.

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

"To the covetous man, life is a nightmare. And God lets him wrestle with it as best he may."

Henry Ward Beecher

-🌼🌼🌼-

Late July, 2022

You were not able to contain the huge grin that stretched across your lips. The giggle that escaped as you brushed your teeth was unstoppable. 

Thankfully, you were able to aim your pasty, minty spit in the sink, done with brushing, as the sound bubbled up. 

Jake had brushed his teeth just before you’d bombarded his morning routine time, purposely invading his space. 

What? You couldn’t get enough of him. It was undeniable and you’d decided to just live in the moment. 

And the moment had ended up becoming you, watching him pee as you followed his lead in brushing your own teeth. 

You’d woken up in his arms this morning. No sex the night prior, and none after you’d awoken. Just wanted to sleep with him the night before. Sleeping in his cozy bed was better than sleeping in yours. Being in his strong, sure arms was unlike anything else. He was so warm, safe— equal parts hard and soft. . . 

God. You truly couldn’t get enough. 

Which was why you didn’t leave the bathroom when he inched his pajama pants down just a bit to pee. The top of his ass, peeking out above his waistband. 

You wanted to blame it on the fact that you couldn’t leave due to brushing your teeth. . . but you knew that task could easily be finished in the kitchen sink. You’d done it enough when Elsie had lived with you, always hogging the bathroom. 

But. . . That wasn’t what you’d wanted though. Didn’t want to brush your teeth at the kitchen sink.

The domestic feeling surrounding you was what you wanted. You liked this. No worries or cares, complete comfort in the presence of another person. 

It was different than anything you’d ever had before. 

You had never experienced such a wonderful companionship with someone. Someone you could have world-ending sex with, just to witness that same person using the bathroom. No shame on his end and there was absolutely no shame on your end either. 

It just felt right. 

But, when you glanced over to your bathroom partner and actually got a good look at him peeing, the little spurt of a laugh that trickled from your lips as you spit. . . It came naturally. It was more than humor that came with the laugh, though. 

It really wasn’t because you found it to be a funny moment. The laugh hadn’t come at all from feeling humorous. 

It came smoothly, softly. And strangely. . . appreciatively. You appreciated this moment — appreciated all that came with Jake. 

“What, Miss Toothbrush?” He questioned with a jokingly accusatory tone. His whiskey colored irises peeked at you briefly before he leaned forward to flush and close the lid. He was tucking himself back in his pants, now, and your eyes refused to leave the sight. “Have you never witnessed a guy peeing before?” 

Actually. . . Hm.

“No, I haven’t,” you responded, still quietly smiling at the whole situation, your own eyes flicking to his face. Your brows crinkled. “I’ve just. . . I’ve never had this with anyone else. Never felt this good with anyone but you.”

“Oh?” He asked, eyebrows raising as he adjusted himself in his pants. “And what do you mean by that, my fair maiden?”

What did you mean by that? Shit. 

You moved back from the sink, thoughtful and worrying at the words that’d just spilled from your lips. Meanwhile, you swiped the same washcloth across your mouth he’d used to wipe his. Didn’t bother you at all.

Your steps led you to sitting on the toilet seat.

As the cold, ceramic lid touched your bare ass, you realized. . . It felt completely natural and right to use the same damn towel, too. Fuck. 

Why did everything feel so right? So natural? This hadn’t even been going on long enough for that. You’d only met him a couple of months ago, for God’s sake. 

And all this arrangement really was, was just two roommates who liked to fuck. . . If you could go so far, you’d even say two friends who liked to fuck who also happened to live together. 

That was why you felt good. Because of the incredible sex. . . Right?!

As he went about washing his hands, you clutched the small towel in your hands. You squeezed it so tight, your knuckles turned white. But you had to hold onto something. You weren’t sure what you were feeling and it stressed you the fuck out. 

Though before your mind could spiral any further, the sink was shutting off and Jake was placing his freshly dried hands on your bare legs, slowly coming to squat in front of you. The way his purposeful hands squeezed right above your knees in reassurance, it made your nipples peak beneath the t-shirt you wore. 

You were wearing one of his t-shirts. Truly enveloped by all things Jake. On theme with the whole damn morning. 

Fuck. 

“Y/n,” Jake began, your lost stare snapping to him. He was suddenly eye-level with you. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were concerned. “What’s going through that pretty head, baby?”

I don’t know. I don’t fucking know, you mentally responded, worriedly. I’m feeling too much and that’s dangerous. 

“Nothing,” you responded, your voice faltering just enough to make him raise a brow. You cleared your throat, sitting up straighter in front of him. Avoid avoid avoid. You were just overthinking. That was all. “Seriously.” 

With a glance at the shower, you got an idea. 

Perfect distraction. Imagining it already had you shivering with want. 

“You know. . . We haven’t christened the shower yet,” you proposed, looking at him from the corner of your eye. 

His mouth was slightly ajar, having been about to say something. 

Just ignore me, Jake, you pleaded internally. Let it go. 

He wasn’t wavering. His gaze was heavier than normal, trapping you in the moment with him. Wanted you to confess to more emotion. But you decided you needed him to meet you where you were. . . now. Needed him to drop this. 

It didn’t matter.

So, you moved forward to sweetly kiss his lips. His lips, ever so soft against yours. The kiss started innocently enough, but you’d been intentional with it, helping you to deepen it seamlessly. 

Your body opened up to him, your knees parting to welcome him between them. His hands moved up naturally, going to grasp your hips in a strong grip. You moved forward just enough that your core touched his midsection. 

The groan that blossomed from deep in his throat was enough to make your panties dampen. Your change in position caused him to graze his hands up your sides. His calloused thumbs brushed across your tight nipples. You breathed a needy moan, pushing yourself into him. 

Still kissing you and going to fully massage your left breast, he removed the other hand from you to reach over to the shower curtain, yanking it open in one take. The sound of the metal curtain rod interacting with the metal hangers made your clit twitch with desperation. Yes.

When he pulled away from you, his lips were so swollen and pink, freshly kissed. You could’ve cried at the loss of contact, and the way his hungry eyes drank you in. But before long, his gaze moved from you to the shower handle, turning it on with one sure twist.  

As the water heated up, he stood and started stripping himself of his own t-shirt, removed his pajama pants. His thick cock sprang freely from the waistline of them, causing your mouth to fill with saliva. You needed him on your tongue.

Swallowing in anticipation, you began to take off your own shirt. Your eyes trailed up his torso to his face. When you looked up to observe him, he was combing one hand through the front of his hair, tousling it as his eyes stayed on you. 

You felt your warm, bare skin hit the cool yet humid air of the bathroom, watched him as he slowly rubbed a thumb across his bottom lip. A smirk dragged across his full lips. 

Watching as a dimple dipped his cheek, you rose from your position on the ceramic seat. And as you made quick work of your underwear, kicking them to the side, he didn’t move. The tip of his thumb stayed on his bottom lip, his smirk becoming secretive in a way that wasn’t mischievous. 

It was secretive in a way that confused the hell out of you. The look that spread from his dark eyes, all the way down to his mouth. . . it made your skin heat with an unnamed emotion. 

It only took a few seconds of standing naked in front of him to feel the pull to walk to him. After a couple of steps, you met him, wrapping your arms around his waist. With your naked fronts touching one another so intimately, his hands found your face, thumbs delicately tracing your cheekbones. 

“I’ve never felt this good before, either,” he said, voice toned down just for you to hear, against the  rush of water in the shower to your right. “This is. . . more than anything I’ve ever experienced. All because of you.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Present Day

The nerves dissipated a bit as you observed the perky, pretty blonde tech who walked you to the back. She was a good distraction with her high, swaying blonde ponytail and chipper attitude. 

The first thing she did was send you to pee in a cup with your name on it, to check your sugar and protein levels. Then, as you made your way to the bathroom, she also told you that she was going to weigh you when you came out. 

“And after all of that, I’ll be able to take you to the exam room,” she explained, high-pitched and waving her hands around as if she was a cheerleader. “Yay!”

So, after peeing in a cup and placing it in a window to get checked, you took off your bag and shoes to step onto the old school scale. The mechanism squeaked, showing its age, as you adjusted awkwardly on it to get weighed. Oh, the sacred scale. . . Every woman’s favorite part of a doctor appointment, right? 

Though, your favorite part of the entire experience was the way she was obviously undressing Jake with her eyes as you stood on the scale. Her now-extremely flirty tone as she spoke with him made you want to roll your eyes all the way into the back of your skull. 

The woman wasn’t paying you, the patient, any sort of proper attention. You were convinced she hadn’t even noticed you coming out of the bathroom from peeing in the blessed cup. 

No, instead, she seemed to be solely focused on getting a healthy dose of Jake as you stood and waited on her to notice you. Real cute and professional. 

To your relief, it seemed Jake didn’t notice her flirting. . . or just didn’t care that she was being flirtatious. He appeared to be disassociating from her behavior so he didn’t notice you waiting. He was trying his damndest to keep friendly conversation with her, much like Josh would do (although, you took note of how Jake was quite toned down in comparison to his twin). It seemed difficult for him, though, with how tuned out of it he was.

You really loved listening to Jake talk. You could spend endless hours listening to him ramble on. What you didn’t love was watching the little tech’s eyes trained on his face, the way she bit her lip as her eyes twinkled. She watched him so damn carefully with every word (not many, mind you) he spoke, as she ignored you. 

It was not about to be on you to weigh yourself. And you weren’t about to stand on the scale for a second longer. You weren’t here for Little Miss Blondie with a Body to drool over Jake. It was especially grating to watch as you stood on a fucking scale with a bigger number than you were used to seeing, glaring back at you. 

To put it simply: you were already feeling fat thanks to the unavoidable body changes, you didn’t need to feel vastly unimportant right now either. You could only take so much vulnerability in this state. Clearing your throat with plain annoyance evident on your face, you waited for her to get the fucking clue as you continued to stand pointlessly on the scale. 

“Oh my god, yes!” She squealed. “Silly me. I’m supposed to be getting your weight, aren’t I, hun?” The tech gave Jake a little embarrassed smile that he didn’t see, his eyes instantly coming to set on you. 

He didn’t notice her tiny, ‘pick me’ grin, as he was already walking over to check on you. She was left to trail behind him, still going on about how ‘silly’ she was. Dear God.

“Don’t call me hun,” you replied sharply, done with her little cutesy act. “Pretty sure you’re the same age as me or younger. So, please. Stop that shit.” 

Jake snorted a laugh at your attitude. A hand covered his mouth inconspicuously, fingers tapping against his lips that held a humored grin. Watching her with squinted eyes was all you did as she adjusted the pieces to figure out your weight. And finally, she wrote down your numbers on her chart. 

“S-sorry,” she stuttered, backing up as if burned by your vicinity to her. “I, um, think we’re good to go to the exam room now.” 

After stepping off the scale, you smoothed your sweater, slipped on your white Chucks, and grabbed your belt bag from the table beside the scale. You gave a side eyed glance to Jake, who was waiting on you and watching you with a little sparkle in his eye. He was amused. And at that, you had to smile a little, too. You even offered him a little wink before looking ahead to where the tech stood, waiting to lead you to the exam room.

When you looked forward and saw the pretty blonde a few steps ahead of you, you caught eyes with her. She now looked slightly dejected after the minuscule exchange between you and Jake, that she’d apparently witnessed. Her eyes fluttered down when you looked at her. 

Dear Lord, girl, he’s literally here with a woman carrying his child, you reasoned for her silently, scoffing internally at the tinge of disappointment on her fairy-like features. Have some sense; he’s probably not at a fucking OBGYN office to find a girlfriend.

Not that you were his girlfriend. . . A very upsetting truth. But she didn’t have to know that. 

“Well,” you tried, voice a little lighter with sympathy for her. You understood. . . He was a catch. A handsome catch that you couldn’t have, either. “I think that sounds great. Let’s get a look at the baby, hm?”

At your encouraging smile, she seemed to perk up a bit and even turned with a little pep back in her step to lead you further to a room.

But you didn’t notice much more than that as Jake came up to walk in step next to you, resting a hand at the base of your back. His gesture worked very well at distracting you and dissipating your irritable nerves. 

Fearful of ruining the moment, you kept your eyes forward and walked in good enough time to stay in line with him. Losing his touch was the last thing you wanted.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Thankfully, the tech didn’t stay in the room for long. She checked your blood pressure and other vital signs quickly as you sat on the exam chair, legs dangling.

But, you noticed she lingered on your heart for a while. . . She took her time to check on that. The excessive time spent on observing your heart health helped you to know that your chart had definitely been updated since your ER stint. 

Eventually, she was done and you were able to breathe easier. She made you nearly gag once more when she bounced out of the room, offering a dainty wave and a sugary fuckin’ sweet ‘bye, bye’ (mostly directed towards Jake, of course). 

“Good God,” you groaned, soothing the wrinkles on your forehead with a stiff hand. “She had a little crush,” you commented with a smirk, still trying to mask just how annoyed you truly were. “A lot like Kaia. You’re a damn babe magnet to all these poor women who can’t have you.” 

And don’t I fucking know it, you grumbled internally. Want you and can’t have you.

Jake just sat back in his seat and rolled his eyes, deciding to ignore your jest. But then he leveled you with a contemplative stare, brows furrowed. “Speaking of babe magnets. . . Are you still talking to that guy? Study Buddy?”

Oh shit. How did you even begin to approach that? Were you talking to Theo? Not regularly, by any means. . . But he was always sitting on the back burner in your mind. You made a mental note to reach out to the jock at some point.

Theo sat on that back burner as you waited to make your next move. You still needed to execute your plan of distracting yourself from Jake. It felt necessary. If you were with someone else, it put a  blocker up to prove to yourself that you could be fine with Jake being with someone else. The more time went by, the more ridiculous it sounded. . . But you still wanted to roll with it. 

So, you answered as though you were doing such. 

“Yeah, actually,” you half-lied, looking down to pull your sweater over your hands. Nervous habit. “I actually need to reach out to him and plan our next date.”

“Study Buddy isn’t reaching out to you to do that?” Jake scoffed. “He’s a fucking catch, y/n.”

You imagined him shaking his head in disbelief. And when you looked up, he was doing just that as he crossed his legs. Then, his arms over his chest. But he had no room to judge. One, it wasn’t his business. And two, you just didn’t want him judging. Wanted him to just fuck off with the subject. You didn’t want to think about stupid ass Theo and dates right now. Didn’t want to agree with Jake that yes, Theo wasn’t the best catch. You knew that. But you didn’t want to talk about that with Jake of all people.

So, you backfired. 

“His name is Theo, Jake. Quit calling him Study Buddy,” you rolled your eyes at the ridiculous nickname he’d started that night so long ago. Theo, in your bedroom waiting on you as Jake had you wrapped around him in the bathroom. “The nickname is stupid. Makes you sound jealous. And I know you’re not.”

“And if I am?”

Don’t say that. 

“You have a girlfriend, Jake. A fucking perfect one at that. You shouldn’t be jealous of another man in my life when she is as perfect as she is,” you tried to reason, but the compliment had you near gagging. You were just in complete shock. Why was he being like this? It was confusing the hell out of you. 

“Why are you implying that you’re not—?” Jake started, cutting himself off. He rolled his eyes, ruffling the front of his hair while leaning forward, then back again in his seat. “Fuck, y/n. I know I shouldn’t be. Of course I know that. I can’t fucking control it,” he gruffly stated, running a hand through his hair as his other hand gripped the opposite bicep. His black boot tapped the ground, semi-anxiously for a few seconds before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

When he opened his eyes, he was crossing his arms again, biceps still distracting you as his hands gripped them so tightly through his button down. His voice had calmed down to near-normal next time he spoke. “Doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like imagining you. . . with him. I don’t like imagining you like that with any other man. Much less a fucking prick on a football scholarship. By the way—seriously, y/n? Football?”

“How do you know he has a football scholarship?” You questioned, avoiding the glaring topic at hand. Avoid, avoid, avoid. He simply couldn’t be jealous if you choose to not acknowledge it.

“Context clues. He’s always wearing that fuckin’ Pratt football shit. Shorts, shirts, sweats, hats. . . Fuck.” He rolled his eyes once again. When he looked at you again, his eyes became deeper, showing he was earnest in what he had to say. “You can do better, y/n. Could get anyone you want. As much as I don’t want to see you with anyone, you can still do better than—.”

You were steaming angry. Because he was wrong. You couldn’t get anyone you wanted. The only one you wanted was completely unattainable. Minor recent hiccups in the kitchen and car aside. You knew he wasn’t a possibility anymore. How dare he put you on the spot like this?! Who the fuck did he think he was?

“Goddammit, Jake! Stop!” You snapped, no longer listening and cutting him off. “You’re in a relationship. You lost the right to counsel my dating choices the moment you started dating someone else.”

Someone else. . . As if he’d ever actually dated you. 

And you’re the one who initially let him go, y/n, a serene voice reminded you. Sounded too much like something your damn sister would say. Don’t forget he didn’t want anyone else. You forced him into it.

Not. The. Fucking. Point. You refused to hear the sense of that at this moment.

“I don’t want your opinions on any man I bring into my life. Not your place. I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it,” you argued, pushing the sleeves of your sweater up, suddenly feeling very warm with emotion. He made you so damn angry. “Keep them to yourself. Never once have I judged you for being with Maya. And I’m the one carrying your baby — having to watch you—. Dammit.” You felt hot tears growing in your eyes and swelling in your throat. Fuck. Not now. 

And still, against your will, you felt a stray tear drop to your cheek. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake drop his hands and stand up, already making his way to you. “Y/n—.”

You turned your head from him, telling him you didn’t want him to try to comfort you. You were angry. And hurt. (And truly wanted him to hold you so badly you couldn’t stand it.)

With a sniffle, you kept on, saying things you definitely shouldn’t have been saying as you kept eyes on the light pink vinyl of the exam chair. “For the past several months, I have had to think about you fucking her and bringing her around. And having to think about that shit while I have a baby inside of me that we made together?” You paused, making sure to emphasize that point to him. Because it truly sucked ass to have to experience Jake and Maya anyway, but while pregnant with his kid? 

“So you have no fucking right to bring up who I’m seeing. Not your damn business, Jake. And Theo has done nothing but show that he’s a good man. I haven’t ever judged Maya, because she’s a good person,” (slight lie — you’d definitely judged her, but whatever). “So don’t you dare start with all of the jealousy and shit. I, the overly hormonal one, have sucked it up, so you can, too.”

He was closer now, standing right next to you. You could smell his enticing cologne and could feel his presence. Almost touching you, but not quite. He seemed scared to make a move. Good. 

But, really, not good at all. You wanted him close. Whether it was close enough to hug him or slap him, you weren’t sure. Probably more the former, which had you wanting to slap yourself. You were supposed to be mad. But the two more tears that sadly trailed down your cheeks and onto the exam table proved to you that you were mostly just. . . Heartbroken. Plain old heartbroken over not having him. 

“Y/n. . .,” Jake tried again, coming just close enough that his thighs touched your knees, bent to hang off the table. And then his hands were coming to sit on the very end of your thigh, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh through your pants. “Can you look at me?”

You huffed, irritated more with yourself than anyone. But you wanted to blame it on him as much as you could, so you honored his wish and your eyes floated up from the table. Wanted to really make him feel bad.

But, when you found his beautiful brown eyes giving you a sympathetic look, you tried to glare. . . Though, you knew you looked more broken and slightly (very) pathetic. Stupid.

“What, Jake?” You sniffled, one more tear betraying you, trickling down your cheek. 

But before the tear could make it to your jaw like the others, Jake was reaching out to stop it. His thumb swiped gently at the soft skin of your cheek. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, desperate for you to believe him. His eyes searched yours, which stared blankly back at him. “Y/n, I. . . I—.”

The knock on the door was enough to make the two of you part, Jake even moving back a couple steps. You readjusted yourself on the table, stretching your legs out on it, sitting up in the chair. Tucking the heel of your hand into the sleeve of your sweater, you wiped carefully under both of your eyes as the doctor entered. 

“Hello, hello! How’re we feelin’ today, Mama?” You heard Dr. Rose before you looked over at her. When you did, you first saw her beautiful naturally black hair done in a half-up, half-down. It looked sloppy and intentionally styled all at once.

And, of course, her bright smile showed immediately as she looked over at you. Her bright red lipstick, making her entire look pop, right along with those mid-century-esque black-rimmed glasses. The smile that tugged at your lips was effortless as you engaged in her soothing aura. 

“Feeling good, Dr. Rose,” you responded, keeping your eyes on her back as she prepped the equipment. Jake had chosen a vantage point, leaning against the wall next to your chair. “What about you? How’s life been treating you?”

She looked over at you, momentarily paused with a slightly surprised look on her face. But she recovered quickly with a response. “Y/n, you are just too darn precious. Clients rarely ask me how I’m doin’. Means a lot, babygirl,” she grinned, turning on the monitor. After washing her hands, she grabbed a pair of plastic gloves from the box of them hung on the wall. “As a matter ‘a fact, I’m doin’ great, honeybun. And I can’t wait to see what’s goin’ on with your sweet baby. You feelin’ any better since that visit to the hospital?”

The blush that painted your cheeks at the mention of your visit was unstoppable. Why the hospital escapade embarrassed you, you weren’t sure. It shouldn’t, but it did. Just. . . kind of made you feel weak.

“Y-yes,” you coughed to clear any discomfort from your tone. “I’m just glad we were able to start figuring a few things out that night.”

Dr. Rose hummed in response, motioning you to lay back. And, so you did, as she reclined the seat backwards for you as much as she deemed necessary. Not too far back, leaving you with a really nice view of the screen.

Jake moved slightly, you caught it from the corner of your vision. And you couldn’t stop your eyes from flitting over to him. His eyes, laser-focused on everything happening in the room. And, as if he could sense it, his eyes found yours as you watched his expression change from one of wonder to his own bit of embarrassment that you’d been watching him. 

Or so you assumed that’s why his cheeks flushed. Neither of you cared to tear your eyes away from the other, your gazes locked as Dr. Rose went about her business. Though, when the doctor cleared her throat, both sets of eyes shot over to her quickly, as if you’d been caught. 

You noticed the equipment was ready to go, the monitor completely on as Dr. Rose kept a hand on the transducer, waiting patiently with a smile on her face, ready to begin. 

“I’m also relieved you’ve started findin’ some answers, sweetie pie. Your chart has been updated, thanks to the hospital’s communication with us,” she mentioned, placing a fist on her hip as she stood waiting to start. “So, if you don’t want to, you won’t have to give me any details. But if you want to fill me in on anything,” she dragged the word want out in her Southern twang. “I’m all ears, honey bug.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, the grin lopsided and easy. But your jitters to begin the ultrasound were at the forefront of your mind. “I’m just excited to see the baby.”

“Well, then. I’m excited, too. Let’s do it,” she assured, but just as she picked the instrument up, she put it back. “You know what–I almost forgot the darn jelly! Silly me,” Dr. Rose laughed quietly to herself, shaking her head as deep dimples pierced her cheeks. “While, I grab it, though. . . wanna introduce me to our newbie?” Her eyes shot over to Jake, as she opened a cabinet, turning towards you, her brow raising with a secret grin, aimed at you. 

Your tummy flipped at the realization that you’d, once again, be introducing Jake as the baby’s father. You quickly glanced over at him, and when you did he was already watching you. The way your lips curved up with an unnamed emotion was quick and of its own volition. His expression seemed to match yours.

“This is Jake,” you answered her, with your eyes still on him. But just as soon, you glanced over to her to finish your statement. “He’s the other half of the baby.”

“Oh yes,” the doctor nodded slowly, taking it in. “I remember you mentionin’ him on the phone,” she remarked before momentarily giving him her full attention. A million-dollar smile lit up her features as she stripped her gloves, throwing them away. Stepping forward a few steps, her stilettos clicked against the linoleum before she outstretched her hand to greet him. “Happy to have ya, Jake. Hope to see you at more appointments to come. Were ya busy for our first?” 

She didn’t sound judgemental at all. But the idea of him not being there for the very first appointment made guilt bubble up in you again for not telling him sooner. 

You felt the need to admit to her your mistake of not having told him yet. “He didn’t kn—.”

“Yeah,” he responded quickly, cutting you off. Your eyes flitted over to him. The smile on his face reassured you, a little grin being thrown your way before he addressed her again. “I've been working a couple of different jobs that were holding me up that day,” he covered with a lie. “Worst timing ever and couldn’t get out of it.”

His sincere eyes traveled to you for a second, seemingly letting you know you shouldn’t feel bad. He knew you. A tiny grin found your features at his attempt to make you feel better. His eyes were back on her before you could give him a bigger smile.

“I hated that I couldn’t be here,” he continued, voice faltering as he covered his mouth with a fist. He cleared his throat. The small grin you’d been wearing fell from your face. 

He shook his head and then moved his fist to wave off his words, though, still only looking at the doctor. He hadn’t seen your reaction to his words. “However, my twin got to come in my place, so that’s gotta count for something, right?” 

As Dr. Rose and Jake shared a laugh over a few more words exchanged about identical twins and ‘so-called telepathy’, you couldn’t help but feel a twist in your gut. You knew he was telling the truth that he hated that he hadn’t been able to be there. He could reassure you all day long, and you knew he wasn’t holding it over your head. . . That wasn’t who Jake was.

But. . . It didn’t change the fact that he’d still missed that first appointment and the first chance to see the baby you’d created together. All because you’d been so concerned to keep a secret. A secret he’d absolutely deserved to be privy to. 

“Well then,” Dr. Rose cut in, clapping her hands. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

You gnawed at your lip, chancing a look at Jake. He was waiting for you, sending a private wink as the doctor had turned her back. He shook his head. “It’s okay,” he mouthed the words, arms crossing once more over his chest as he came to stand closer to you.

You blushed; he knew. 

Dr. Rose was washing her hands as he continued to move nearer to you. He stopped once he was leaning against the exam chair, laying an arm against the back of it. Your eyes were glued to every action of his. The way his shirt raised the slightest bit when he stretched his arm out behind you, showing the bottom of his firm stomach. The exposed tanned skin, tempting you with how close he was to you. 

Not to mention, with his arm behind you, you felt deliciously surrounded by him. And you got the most incredible whiff of his cologne. Amber, sandalwood, suede. . . Made you feel so warm and secure.

You didn’t even realize you were staring at his abdomen until the doctor cleared her throat. Caught again. Your cheeks heated. Dammit! What in the hell? Weren’t you just mad at him?

“So, you two. . .,” Dr. Rose spoke, bringing your eyes to her. She was just finishing with washing her hands, drying them on a stiff, white paper towel that she quickly deposited into the trash. “I always have to ask— what are we hopin’ for? Boy or girl?”

She browsed the cabinet farthest left, locating the jelly with no trouble at all, obviously, and placed the tube on the counter before pulling on another pair of gloves. 

“Um,” you started, leaning on your elbows, sitting up a bit to give an answer. “As long as the baby is healthy. . . that’s all I care about.”

Dr. Rose made a noise of acknowledgement, but she flashed you a look. “Not the first time I’ve heard that one,” she winked at you, swiping the jelly from the counter on her way back to you. “But what if I told you you got to pick. I feel like everyone has just a bit of a preference.”

Wrinkling a brow, you thought about it for a second. You honestly didn’t have a preference. All you cared about was the baby having Jake’s eyes and smile (and every other feature of his, if possible). Was that something you could say out loud? 

“I know what I’d want,” Jake chimed in from behind you, still leaning against the back of the chair. 

You peeked at him over your shoulder, hair flipping in the process. For some reason, the action made you feel pretty. And when Jake caught your eye briefly, you saw his lips lift a bit more. His expression was soft as he observed you. 

He was looking at you, but addressing Dr. Rose when he spoke next. “I’ve told y/n the entire reason, but I won’t get into it right now for time’s sake,” he began, hip leaning into the chair enough that he touched your arm. He was right there with you. And you liked it that way. “I just know if I could have my pick for the first one, I’d say a girl would be fun. But, y/n is right. . . All I really care about is if the baby is doing okay in every way possible.”

First one. . . Again, referring to more than one child. You eyed him curiously for a moment, making his eyebrows scrunch in response — as if he were asking ‘what?’. But you just shook your head in response.

“Well, alrighty then,” the doctor responded. 

Both of you looked over to her, and you saw her lifting a brow before she flashed her perfect teeth towards the two of you. Her signature red lipstick, an assurance of some weird sort. You barely knew the woman, but she just made you feel good. Then, after uncapping the ultrasound gel, she aimed it above your tummy. “And I just want to make completely sure – you are wanting to find out the gender today?”

Without even looking at one another, you both simultaneously answered. “Yes.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she responded warmly, winking towards the two of you before taking her spot next to you and the machine. “Lean back and lift your shirt for me, babygirl. And, Jake, if you don’t mind switchin’ off those lights, sweetie. I like to have ‘em off for the gender reveal.”

You both did as you were told, but as soon as your bare tummy felt the cool air of the room, you realized. . . This would be the first time for Jake to see your round belly without anything to cover it. In the dark, mind you. But still. . . 

Though, at the prospect of him seeing your naked belly, you weren’t nervous. Not at all, actually. . . it just made you feel all jittery and excited. Then, without any warning (you’d done it before, so she needn’t warn you), she was squeezing the gel onto your stomach.

Just like before, it wasn’t as cold as you’d expect. No, it was still warmer than movies might try to convince you. You felt nerves wrap around you, just like last time, as soon as she lifted the transducer from its spot. Suddenly, you worried that the baby wasn’t going to be okay. That the heartbeat wouldn’t be thumping like last time. . . . That the screen would have sad news rather than happy.

You lifted one hand to your chest, to cover your heart monitor – just waiting for the phone to go off in your belt bag. The anxiety was making your head spin and she hadn’t even touched the transducer to your stomach yet. Your mind was literally going a mile a minute – the heart under your palm, daring to go just as fast.

Then, you felt a familiar hand come down to touch your other hand – the one still laying at your side, nearest him. And when you looked up, two Amber-brown irises met yours in the dark, silently consoling you. The monitor lit up the room just enough for you to see him mouth something towards you. Your skin warmed at the feeling of him being so sensitive towards you. 

“Everything will be okay,” he silently assured, mouth moving just right for you to pick up the words. 

At his words, tears threatened to spill. You couldn’t completely conceal the emotion as one tear slid down your cheek. You didn’t care too much, though – just reached further for his hand, wanting to fully grasp it. Eyes still holding his, you didn’t worry about any repercussions. Considering, there was definitely much worse you’d done than holding his damn hand. The Jeep. The kitchen. 

But right now, you desperately needed someone – needed him. And this was how you needed him. It took no time at all for him to lace his fingers through yours. And it was the most euphoric feeling you could think of at that moment. Holding his hand was making your heart melt in your chest, and the way it soothed you was unlike anything else. Your palms comfortably met, at the same time you felt your heart slow down and your breaths become a tad more even.

When you were safely holding onto him, you felt brave enough to look at the screen. It was awaiting you, just like Dr. Rose. When you made eye contact with her, she was watching you with care. 

“It’s goin’ to be okay, sweetheart,” she reassured you, accent thick. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you gasped, before sniffling once and shaking your head out to rid yourself of the worries. 

Jake squeezed your hand a little tighter. You did the same back. It was heaven. And next thing you knew, the wand was touching your tummy, connecting with the jelly. And as she moved the device over your stomach, she pressed in just a little. But it all felt seamless and gentle with the smoothness of the gel. It was an odd feeling, but nice all the same. 

You were feeling hopeful. It’s going to be okay. The screen lit up with the gray static and the black spot in the middle of it all, that showed the inside of your tummy.

And, as Dr. Rose adjusted the transducer just a little more, pushing just so against your tummy, you started seeing your baby. Right there, in front of you, you started seeing little pieces of your baby’s body. What you saw on the screen was unparalleled. The tiny, exquisite, flawless human. . .

“Would ya look at that!” Dr. Rose exclaimed, her tone doing very little to mask how enthusiastic she was to see what she saw on her screen. “Those arms and legs are lookin’ beautiful. Perfect in length on both of  ‘em.”

She checked a few more things, moving the instrument around on your abdomen a fairly decent amount. Then, as she took a few pictures and drew a few lines on the baby, she mentioned the essentials. Size of the baby. The position of the baby and placenta. The umbilical cord’s normality. And, finally, the amount of amniotic fluid. You heard the entirety of what she took notes on, but you only listened to what you needed to as you continued to watch the love of your life move around in your womb. Your eyes were glued to the moving wonder inside of you.

“Everything seems absolutely exemplary from what I can tell,” Dr. Rose encouraged, from her spot, where she stood at the machine. She clicked a few buttons as you continued to watch the screen in amazement.

Your eyes drew tears and you felt Jake’s hand wrap even tighter to yours. His thumb gave gentle circles to the back of your hand, catching your attention. But when you looked up at him to see if he needed you, he was mesmerized by the screen. You knew there was no taking his eyes from the monitor. And you didn’t want to. 

In fact, your own eyes instantly sought out the screen again when you knew he didn’t need you. You could watch the happenings on the screen for hours on end, the way the baby seemed to move around in your womb. 

“You’ve got a very active little one,” your doctor giggled, moving the instrument around a bit on your tummy. The little circles she made with the transducer at the bottom of your tummy gave you a perfect view of your baby’s movements. 

The way your heart pressed to your chest was unlike any other emotion you’d ever had. The only thing comparable to the feeling you had at this moment was how you felt to see the little bean alive in you the first time. You knew for a fact that the way Jake was feeling right now was unique to anything else he’d ever experienced. You’d been just as transfixed your first time. But, watching your baby, bigger then before, do a little womb dance on the screen was. . . even more exciting. So, truly, you knew Jake was feeling the full range of positive emotions. 

“Are babies always this active?” You laughed, tears pricking at your tear ducts at the wiggle worm on the screen. The wetness sat in your eyes, blurring your vision until you blinked, a couple falling down the side of your face. 

“The happiest, healthiest ones give ya more of a jig,” Dr. Rose noted with pride in her tone. “That means your little one is living a satisfactory life already. You’re taking proper care of your little angel.” 

Suddenly, you felt a tear hit the top of your hand. And when you looked up, you saw Jake’s eyes doing the same thing as yours. In steady time, you saw at least four tears trickle down his cheeks. His other hand was laid across his mouth in astonishment before he took the same hand and brushed it through the front of his hair. 

With a sniff, he pulled his eyes from the screen for the first time and looked down at you, removing his hand from his mouth. His eyes were full of something akin to adoration, a shaky, close-mouthed smile on his lips. Your heart fluttered in your chest at his expression and you gave him the same one back. 

“Thank you for taking care of our baby so well,” he said, voice raspy with emotion. With a sniffle, he wiped under his eyes with his free hand. “You are already the most incredible mom. Our baby is so lucky to have you.”

You couldn’t stop the few tears that leaked from your eyes onto the chair. Those were undoubtedly words you would cherish for a long, long time. You could feel those words slide right into your heart from his lips. 

There was nothing more you could say to that other than three of the truest words you’d ever spoken. “She’s worth it.”

She? Now you were referring to it as a girl. And, in that moment, you realized how very ready you were to know.

“Oh, now. . . it seems Mama might be leanin’ towards a girl, hm?” Dr. Rose cut in, making your eyes float from Jake to her and then immediately back to the screen. Your beautiful, bouncing baby. . . Yours and Jake’s. Together. 

Your eyes continued to follow every single movement of your baby’s when you asked her your next question. “I know it’s stupid to ask because the baby’s mov–.”

“Nothin’ is stupid to ask in here, babygirl,” Dr. Rose reassured you. “This is your baby. Every question is an important one.”

“Thanks,” you said with a gentle smile, pausing your mesmerization for a second to look at your kind doctor. She was holding the instrument to your tummy, but had paused with her eyes waiting for your question. “Is–is the heartbeat normal? Are we going to be able to hear it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she adamantly agreed. “It’s time for me to hear it and note it anyhow.” Then, her wide, deep brown eyes looked over at Jake and your line of sight followed. “Ya ready to hear that heartbeat for the first time, daddy?”

Daddy. 

“Oh hell yeah,” he said, voice still wet with emotion, zero hesitation in the answer. 

He cleared his throat as the doctor clicked a button and instantly, you heard it. Clear as day. The steady whooshing thump of your baby’s heart rang through the room. It was enough to make you clasp your free hand to your mouth and grab Jake’s hand a little tighter. 

Surprisingly, the tears didn’t fall, but you felt them bubble up in your throat. However, you felt a couple more tears from above you, hitting the top of your hand. 

“Let’s zoom in here,” Dr. Rose encouraged, clicking a few more times to see the baby’s image become even bigger. And when she did, you saw it. The little flickering of the baby’s heart in its chest. “Healthy, healthy heart in this little one. We’re gettin’ about 144 beats per minute. And that’s what I like to call ideal.”

You could have sung a thousand praises for your child, but you didn’t. Instead, you looked up to see Jake’s reaction. And this time, he felt your stare and slowly turned his head to find your eyes, welling with tears. Just like his. It was a moment straight out of a dream. The baby’s heartbeat, echoing throughout the room; Jake’s hand gripping yours with undeniable reliability and comfort; and your eyes, matching one another’s deep level of trust and admiration. 

In that moment, you felt the most connected to him you could’ve ever felt. The screen fulfilled every wish you could imagine, a healthy baby you’d made together – equally and perfectly – him and you. You wanted to trap this moment in time and never, ever leave it.

“Y’all ready to know that gender?” Dr. Rose questioned, a little thrill in her tone. 

The two of you looked over at her after a few more quiet moments of gazing towards one another. “Yes,” you both said, once again, in unison. 

With a smile that seemed to fill half of her face, she nodded. “Alright. You’re going to hear the heartbeat stop, but it just means I turned the sound off. It doesn’t mean anythin’ is wrong with your little babe.”

“Okay,” you readily responded with a warm smile, your heart racing at the prospect of knowing if your baby was a boy or girl. 

In seconds it seemed, the transducer made a few magic moves after she’d clicked the sound of the heartbeat off. Because, suddenly, she’d found a spot that she paused the screen on to take a picture. And, after getting a few more angles of the same spot on the baby, she told you. 

“Looks like Daddy is a little psychic,” Dr. Rose noted with a wink towards Jake, her knowing smirk made your lips widen. No way. “You two are havin’ a girl.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

You were on your way home from the appointment when Josh called Jake. 

The groan you and Jake released was nearly identical. The two of you, having just stared at the Apple CarPlay screen for the first couple of rings. As rude as it may have seemed, you didn’t want to answer. Because, even though you loved Josh, now was not the time you necessarily wanted to talk to him. 

He’d completely interrupted you and Jake recounting almost every detail of the baby. But, when you did hesitantly answer, the curly headed twin was demanding that your little group get together for a night of ‘revelry and good laughs’. And, thankfully, having been in the Jetta, you’d gotten to partake in the twins’ conversation. 

“Plus, Sam could really use some time with the whole group. It’s been a tough week for the little guy,” Josh tacked onto the end, stopping for emphasis. 

The handsome, long haired twin didn’t answer his curly headed counterpart’s request. Instead, he looked over at you with a look that said ‘it’s up to you.’ So, you took control answering all of the questions that Josh asked, Jake gladly letting you take the floor.

“That’s doable,” you paused. “And ‘Little Guy’? Josh, Sam easily has like three or four inches on you, babe.”

“He will always be little. I am older, therefore he is little. Rules are rules,” Josh snarked back, ticking his tongue. “Jake, how do you feel about this woman’s accusations? Being the same height as me and all. . .”

“I’m not the same height as you,” Jake argued, turning on the blinker to exit off the highway. 

“You have an inch on me at best, fucker. That’s nothing,” Josh reasoned, his scoff being heard through the speaker. “Y/n, what are your thoughts on Jake being a snarky ass?”

It took you no time to join in on the jesting. You were enjoying it enough that being part of it sounded even more fun.

“Jake is easily bigger than you, Josh,” you remarked, sending a smirk in Jake’s direction. Jake glanced your way with a wink that made your cheeks go warm and pink. “As is Samuel.”

“Y/n,” Josh started with a gasp, put-on horror in his tone. He was obviously enjoying this, too. “I'm asking about Jake’s height, not his size.”

“Josh!” Jake interrupted before he could say anything further, swerving a little as both of you sat in semi-shock. 

All that ran through your mind was how bold it was for Josh to make a statement like that. . . He was still relatively new to knowing about you knowing about Jake’s — as he put it — size. But. . . the more you thought about it and let Jake chew him out over the phone, the more you realized, it would’ve been like this if Josh had known before. Because, well, it was Josh. 

And nothing was too taboo for Josh Kiszka to discuss. Including the size of his twin’s dick, apparently. 

“Josh,” you started, stopping his rant from the other end of the call. The huff you heard from Jake’s nostrils and the way his skin had become a shade of light red made you regret getting lost in thought. It had made you miss out on something that had Jake blushing hardcore.

Hm. Jake, angry and blushing. It made your own face feel hot and your nipples press a little harder against your bra. You crossed your legs, giving Jake one more side-eye. Fuck, he was so hot. His lips pursed as he tousled a hand through his hair. You crossed your arms over your breasts, creating some sort of pressure to avoid any uncomfortability for the duration of the drive. 

Damn hormones.

You shook your head, remembering you had something to say, facing the road as Jake stopped a little too late at a stop sign. What had Josh said? “Josh. I have only ever seen one of you in that way, so your remark doesn’t even make sense,” you said your piece, giving one more quick look at Jake before your next words. He was still trying to drive straight, lips tightly together. “And I think I can make a good assumption that Jake is bigger anyway.”

“Y/n!” the twins said in tandem, tones worlds different. Josh, praising your grit and Jake, completely startled at the statement. Jake’s face reddened further and he once again ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t necessarily seem upset. Not at all, really, just. . . Flustered and frustrated. 

Hm. . . 

“Now that y/n has completely flabbergasted us both,” Josh started from the other end almost immediately (thankfully avoiding any awkward silence), “Let’s get back to planning. Good on you, y/n. I quite like the boldness. It suits you.”

If only you knew how bold I’d been recently, Joshua. . ., you thought, mind going directly to the night in the Jeep.

You looked over at Jake once more before getting into the planning. For a second, you really worried you’d made him angry. A trauma response of yours, one might say. But, when you regarded him once more, you caught him. 

He’d stopped at another stop sign, and had his eyes glued to your body. In fact, he was so entranced by you that he didn’t even notice you looking at him. His eyes traveled between your breasts and legs. Your clenched thighs, which squeezed together of their own accord at his attention. His stare was fire on your skin. Felt it everywhere. Your arms crossed tighter to your chest, needing more of his attention than his eyes.

A car honking behind you both made his eyes snap directly to the road, never noticing your attention to him. Your face was hot as fuck when you shook your head, playing it all off. The conversation had become too much in that capacity and you needed to plan a damn get-together. You now knew you should probably not spend the night alone in the apartment with Jake. 

Without another thought, you continued planning the event with Josh. “Okay, so. Tonight. Our place. All of that’s been settled. What are you wanting to eat?” You tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, choosing to focus on the sonogram pictures as you placed the hand from your hair on your round belly. “Rather, what is Sammy wanting to eat? Since his week hasn’t been the best, he should probably choose right?”

“Well, let me think!” Josh started, suddenly yelling as if on speaker phone. His voice just a little too loud over the speakers.  

Jake looked over to you at the same point you looked at him, both of your eyes huge at the way his voice truly boomed through the speakers. 

Without a second thought, Jake reached a hand out to turn it down. The tension settled considerably as you cracked a smile at your roommate. Him turning Josh down was pretty fucking funny, you had to admit. But he just kept turning it down, Josh continuing to talk on the other end as Jake turned him completely silent. 

“Oh, now that is nice,” Jake sighed, leaning back. His fingers, still sitting lightly on the volume wheel. “Just how I like Josh. Not talking. Silent.”

You couldn’t help but burst with a laugh, slapping his hand out of the way as you continued to giggle at his action. When you did, you caught a tiny glance at his crotch, which he was trying very hard to cover. He quickly splayed the volume hand over it to hide the noticeable stretch at his zipper.

“Hey, now!” Jake quickly argued, at you making him move his hand. He sounded genuinely worried. Your eyes snapped up to his face, your cheeks red at being caught. Thankfully, though, his eyes were still on the road. Safe. 

You sighed yourself, hand still on the volume knob to hold onto some sense of stability in the otherwise stuffy car.

“I haven’t had a damn moment of peace since the moment I was conceived thanks to that curly haired motherfucker,” he sighed deeply and dramatically. A little grin tweaked his lips, revealing his playfulness. “And now you’re wanting to torture me further with his voice speaking to us over a stereo system? It’s hell. Hell, I tell you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snorted, a bigger laugh threatening to burst from your own little grin at his dramatics. It was pretty fucking hilarious, you couldn’t lie. But you had no clue what Josh was saying and you needed to (to slice the tension surrounding you, at the very least), so you reached forward to turn it back up.

And, of course, Josh was still talking as you turned the volume up. Not quite as loud this time, though. “. . .and Jake, you’re a fucking moron. Just because you turn me down doesn’t mean I can’t hear you! Fuckass,” Josh griped from the other end of the phone, additionally verbally tsking Jake from what you could hear. “You’re just too distracted by each other to think about sense.”

Fuck, Josh. Quit. You did not need to play into that, so instead. . . you chose the path of least resistance and defended yourself. Avoid, avoid, avoid.

“I’m sorry Jake turned you down, Josh,” you offered in response, looking over to see Jake’s devious smirk. It made your own lips raise; he really was pretty funny. “Now. Both of you quit this fucking twin banter because it is impossible to keep up with.”

Josh’s sigh from the other end rattled the speakers, causing Jake to dramatically cover the ear facing you. You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the laugh that trickled from your lips. Still looking at your driver, you spoke to Josh again. “Let’s just keep talking about tonight’s plan before he gets the urge to shut you completely off.”

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Jake’s hair looked so fucking pretty. The length. The styled mess of natural waves, the longer it grew. It was harder everyday to not watch him. And his hair was the lethal weapon, flowing around his shoulders with every action, always pushed over just so at the front. It suited him better than any hair you’d ever seen on anyone.

And you meant that shit. Running your fingers through his long locks sounded blissful as fuck. You bit your lip as you watched the way he’d tucked it behind one ear. But, knowing you couldn’t do that. . .you decided to focus on something else. It was slightly depressing to face the reality of him not being yours, so avoiding it seemed the only key.

Your eyes scanned his form from the back, noting his outfit. Same thing he’d worn today to the doctor’s office, the white linen button-down, your favorite piece. Not anything special or out of the ordinary, but it didn’t have to be. Not if he was wearing it. When he shifted some weight onto a hip, your eyes couldn’t drift away from the way his black skinny jeans hugged his tight ass so well. 

Also, since when was it fair for a man to have such a perfectly round ass?!

Josh’s voice snapped you out of your daze momentarily. You could hear him from the living room as he and Sam argued. You assumed they were arguing over something petty, but you weren’t paying attention whatsoever. 

No, your attention had stayed primarily on Jake as he busied himself around the kitchen. He was putting finishing touches on his (apparently infamous) homemade pizzas. Per Sam’s request, that was what the menu had on it tonight.

You’d opted to stay in the kitchen with Jake as the three others found games to play and records to listen to. So, it was just the two of you, chilling in the kitchen. You had claimed to be helping. . . But you definitely weren’t. Your eyes were betraying you, distracting you with the view of your sexy ass baby daddy. 

The only thing that could distract you was the blessed heat emanating off the oven. The oven was obviously in active use, making the kitchen quite warm. And, being more and more pregnant by the day, you overheated too easily these days. It was aggravating. You’d already changed into goddamn Soffe shorts and a T-shirt (which used to fit normally, and now hugged your belly and boobs a little tighter) in the middle of winter. 

But. . . you were still too warm. Though, you refused to leave the kitchen. The view was just too lovely. So, as Jake worked on dicing some tomatoes, you moved to the kitchen window, opening it quickly to get some air circulating. But, in your rush to open it, you didn’t pay proper attention to the lavender, knocking it over in your haste. 

The precious lavender, which had only ever sat in that windowsill. Mindless, careless mistake. Clumsy fucking ass. You damn well started to tear up, more than a little distressed at the mishap. Pregnancy hormones were elevating everything and you felt like shit for destroying one of your favorite gifts ever. The most sentimental peace offering you’d ever received. 

As you fully registered the clatter, you realized Jake had as well. Coming back to the situation in front of you, you noticed him coming towards you quickly. A worried expression on his face and an offer to help, hands extended. But it was too late. You were near sobbing (again, thanks for the added dramatics, baby hormones). There was floral devastation in your wake. Nothing he could do.

Your eyes trailed to the remnants of the beautiful white pot you’d picked out together on a lazy day in early August, on your way home from the B&G. He’d picked you up. And after, exchanged the terracotta for the small, textured piece. The piece, now lying shattered below you — the pot, once intricately molded on every side to look like lavender. 

Just wonderful. To your extended dismay, you witnessed some of the ceramic scraps of the pot falling into the garbage disposal.

Your lack of care for your surroundings had caused the plant itself to fall at a very rapid speed, right into the sink. While the pot was sad, the possible destruction of the precious plant was making your heart cramp even worse in your chest. 

This little plant—it meant so much to you. For so many reasons, you cherished its presence. It reminded you of happier times, opening up to a man you’d hesitantly let in. The same man you’d ended up caring for more than so many others. . . Someone who changed your life forever – baby or no baby, he’d changed you. Helped you.  

Jake first grabbed your hands to check for cuts and scratches. He’d find none. You hadn’t touched the plant with your hands, only knocking it over with your arms. Was your body really becoming so huge that you were even more of a clutz than usual? God, you hoped not. 

Once he’d done his check on your hands, he quickly dropped them. You assumed he was might’ve been fearful of repeating the kitchen incident with the water. . . and the touching of the boobs. Not that you’d mind repeating it. But, right now, you were so emotional over the lavender pot, today’s doctor appointment, and everything else – that you feared if he touched you, you’d lean into him in ways you definitely shouldn’t. Especially with company right in the other room. 

“Well, fucking fucker,” you muttered, wiping furiously at your cheeks to keep tears away. You stared hopelessly at what was left of the pot in the sink. The plant and its soil, still clinging together in one piece despite the damage. 

Hm. . . In spite of everything, the plant clung together, despite the damage. The sight shadowed a metaphorical song in your head about your own life. Oddly familiar. For some reason, that part of it helped your blood to stop boiling. It offered some bright hope to the otherwise sad moment. The plant was okay. It had been protected. It was still salvageable. No matter what. And that was what mattered most. 

“It’ll be okay,” Jake reassured you, his hand coming up to hold your shoulder delicately. His thumb soothed tender circles into your skin through your t-shirt.

This week really had been worse than any other with getting hot easily. Which, Dr. Rose had said was normal as she’d reviewed current possible symptoms and questions with you. This week you’d just constantly been warm. Your hands found your tummy subconsciously, finding comfort in the bump.

“Yeah, it will be,” you replied quietly with a sigh. Turning slightly, you looked him directly in the eyes. It wasn’t hard, as Jake’s stare had already been focused on you. Your heart fluttered. “Thank you for that plant, by the way. I’m not sure if I have or haven’t said that yet, but still. It deserves a thank you again. . . especially now that I’ve destroyed it.”

“You haven’t destroyed it,” he said with a grin and kind eyes, as his hand dropped from your shoulder. “And no need to thank me. It was the least I could do after being such an asshole.”

“I didn’t need a gift.”

“In my opinion, it wasn’t really a gift, y/n. It was more than that,” he grinned, a hand reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. His hand, coming to rest against your neck, making featherlight circles against the skin there. Bliss. “But whatever it was, it was the absolute bare minimum of what you deserved after my act. And in general.”

“Jake—.”

“French Lavender’s elements are essential to one’s internal peace,” he continued, going to cup your cheek. You knitted your eyebrows, confused. But, he didn’t pause, hand still holding your cheek. “It smells good. It’s a beautiful color. Survives in any indoor climate.” 

“What are you–?”

“And it has the highest vibrational frequency of any plant that’s–.” 

No. Way.

“. . .known to bring good fortune,” you finished, remembering this exact explanation. The same spot in this kitchen, but with Josh rather than Jake. 

Game night. So long ago. And somehow, you remembered it. And Jake did, too? How? He hadn’t been–. Wait. “You spied on us that night. I remember!” You laughed, stunned. “Were you listening the entire time?”

A quiet smile lit up his handsome face, the recurring mustache that was only stubble this week moving with the smirk on his lips. “I wasn’t spying. That makes me sound like a fuckin’ creep,” he chuckled under his breath.

The little grin that came with a twinkle in your eye matched his peaceful energy. You felt this moment with him. “Well. . . if the shoe fits, honey.”

Now you were the one saying honey. Today had been a day.

He was once again bringing the hand from your cheek to your neck, tenderly holding the side of it. His thumb skated behind your ear. “Not creepy. Just observant.”

“That you are,” you agreed quietly, leaning into his touch, even reaching up with your own hand to grab his wrist. You made your own little shapes against his wrist with your thumb. There was a minute or more spent just standing there, letting him hold you in the soft, serene moment. The world’s noise was muffled around you. After a little bit, your brows crinkled again as you saw his eyes travel to your lips. “How did you remember it so well?”

“Everything you’ve ever said is important enough to remember,” he plainly stated. “Simple as that.”

“I don’t know about that,” you shook your head, flushing. With the action, his hand moved. And, rather than letting it drop, you caught it in your hand on its way down. Didn’t want to lose his touch. 

Rather than freezing for a second at your touch, he didn’t make it obvious that your action had deterred him. No, his eyes still read the same and his lips still sat in a secret smile. “I do know about that, baby.”

Baby. You could crumple in tears again at the name. . . How you missed it coming from his lips, only for you. . .Again, you just stood there, appreciating the moment. It was as though nothing had changed. So, you kept talking. As if it were still summertime, the world still made special for you and him. 

“Well. . . do you agree?” You muttered, soft enough for only his ears to hear.

“About?”

“French Lavender? Lavender? Its elements?”

Jake’s eyes traveled above your head and his lips pursed, pondering. He squinted slightly in thought before coming back to you, meanwhile maneuvering the hand you’d caught so he could easily hold yours. Your fingers laced together effortlessly. 

“I’m not sure,” he started, eyes going from your hands to your belly, then your lips, your nose, and finally your line of sight. “It might have been partially the lavender that brought me peace because I truly believe in its aid to human consciousness. But. . . I think the reason I felt better was because of you. I decided to get over my shit and pursue something with you before the lavender ever touched our apartment. You made me see the light. The plant just helped you see me for me. And not the dick I’d been to you at the beginning.”

“I always knew there was more hiding underneath,” you somehow managed past your lips, stunned at his words. “Your eyes are a window, Jake. I could see you. That’s why you pissed me off. Because you wouldn’t let me see you. But—you’re right. . . the lavender helped me see you. When you gave me the plant, that’s when things started opening for me. When you started opening,” you explained, reaching your free hand up to touch his face. 

The thumb that traced his growing facial hair couldn’t be stopped. He closed his eyes at the soft action – but only briefly before he opened them to watch you as you continued to speak. “But I do understand,” you started, brows knitted. “Not trusting. Trusting someone new is hard. Trust is hard. And then I broke yours.” The following words slipped from your lips all on their own. “Worst fucking mistake.”

His hand squeezed yours, fingers still entwined. “Not broken,” he said lowly, the words honest from his chest. 

And, without taking any time to consider it, you knew you needed him to touch you in one special place. Slowly, you moved your tied hands to your tummy. You unlaced your fingers from his, and used the hand to place his open palm on your round belly. The little belly that held a part of him inside. Your breath caught in your chest as you watched tears form in his eyes as he took in the sight of his hand on what you’d made together. His lips formed a shaky smile, eyes finding yours. This time, though, his eyes were different. It was as if something had awoken inside of him and his eyes looked desperate to share it with you. 

He backed you up until your back lightly brushed the counter that faced away from the living room. It was private. You could tell he wanted privacy. To hold your belly? 

You soon realized why he wanted the little nook, away from eyes. Before you could register what was happening, his lips had connected with your neck. He lazily gave open-mouthed kisses to the same place he’d been holding earlier. You shook at the pillowy plushness of his lips on your skin again, your eyes closing on their own. The sigh that brushed past your lips caused his thumb to move against your tummy. The digit, sure in its motions as he rubbed soothingly against your belly, tracing something into it. 

You naturally rolled your neck to the side, giving him better access as he went to nip at your earlobe. His thumb repeated the pattern he’d begun. The same combination of shapes every time. What was he–?

It was difficult to pry your eyes open amidst the feeling of relief that washed over you. But, still. You did. You had to know. “Jake,” you started, his name a breath on your lips. “What are you–?”

“Jacob!” Sam squawked from the other room, with an urgency and rush of anxious energy. 

It took absolutely no time for the two of you to separate, realizing you would soon no longer be alone in the sanctuary of the kitchen. He went to lean against the same counter he’d been using to prepare the pizzas and you stayed put in your spot against the counter. He ran a hand through his hair and ran his palm over his mouth and chin, refreshing the best he could as he looked down, shaking his head. 

Then, he wiped his lips with the pad of his thumb. Your heart hurt at the motion, but you understood. You had to stop doing these things. Letting them happen. Initiating them. Both of you. Had to stop. 

Ignoring the ridiculous train of thought, you fixed yourself, too. You fluffed out your hair, laying it against your shoulders to cover your neck. The pieces you tucked behind your ears, simply to fight against the onslaught of heat you were feeling from the kitchen and now Jake. Thankfully, the open window helped bring in a cool, crisp, wintery breeze. Shit. The window. The plant. You needed to clean up your mess in the sink.

“Y/n, baby,” Jake stopped you as he saw you move, staying in his spot. You looked over at him, raising a brow in his direction. “Not the broken pieces. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I’ll be fine, Jake,” you argued, bending to grab a Walmart bag from the snake that hung in the cabinet below the sink. The task was harder than need be with a belly in the way, but not impossible. It took you a bit to figure out how you were going to bend. . .

Apparently noticing the struggle, Jake lunged in front of you before you could get all the way down. He grabbed a bag for you, shutting the wooden door to the cabinet before you could try to out-stubborn him by getting another bag. 

He handed you the bag, to which you rolled your eyes at him. He wasn’t looking at you, instead still watching the doorway to the kitchen before turning to place a pizza he’d just finished before your mess, in the waiting oven. 

Bag in your hand, you started collecting the ceramic shards. You were grateful they were bigger pieces, avoiding the prospect of nicking yourself. Jake did have a point at you possibly getting hurt. You’d give him that. Then, as you heard Sam’s bare feet slap against the kitchen floor, you looked over your shoulder in the direction of the sound. In your peripheral, you saw Jake’s head snap in the direction of the kitchen doorway as well.

“Jacob Thomas!” Sam screeched, his face equally serious and joking. His eyes were bright, but his tone was sharp. “I have a bone to pick, brother.”

“What, Samuel?” He asked, eyebrows bent in at the rushed, borderline accusatory tone that had come from his baby brother. “Why the full name?”

Josh and Daniel were hot on Sam’s tail, both walking into the kitchen with exhausted expressions as they followed his ass. They both seemed flustered and grumpy. . . And with the way they stayed close to him, obviously not letting him talk to Jake alone, you wondered if them being near had to do with whatever it was he had come to report to Jake.

Sam was oblivious to the exhaustion and didn’t let their presence stop his huff as he stood firm in his place. He was slightly wobbly as he grabbed onto the counter you’d just been leaning against to stay upright. “Woah,” his eyes bugged at being unsteady. His body weaved as he stopped for a second to offer one of his signature vibration-laughs at himself. “Well dammit, I think I’m drunk!”

“Oh, no, Sam. Really? Wouldn’t have guessed,” Josh chided him from the fridge, where he stood behind Sam.

Sammy’s cheeks were balled up and bright pink from the amount of alcohol he’d had to drink. He ignored Josh altogether, staring straight at Jake when he hastily addressed him. “Where is your damn phone, brother?”

Jake felt at his pockets. “Oh, fuck. In the car, I think. What’s going on? Is it mom? Dad? Veron–?”

“It’s not even close to that serious, Jake,” Josh chimed in, trying to soften Sam’s theatrics. 

“Josh. Shut up,” Sam instructed, still looking at Jake. “And, Jake, if you must know, Maya called. That’s what. Perfect, beautiful, gorgeous goddess Maya. She told me she’d reached out earlier around the end of the appointment. Told me you didn’t answer then either,” Sam loosely informed Jake, standing a bit wobbly, yet effortlessly sassy with a hand on one hip. 

He seemed genuinely frustrated with Jake’s lack of communication before he took a swig from the red solo cup in his other hand. The one sip took long enough that the rest of you were exchanging looks at Sam’s behavior. Your expressions were all very similar: wide eyes, squiggled brows, and shaky grins that switched to pursed lips off and on. He was on his way to being completely gone and it was only 6 pm. All of you, seeming equal parts concerned and amused. 

The twins seemed irritated. Josh, concerned, but more frustrated. Jake, annoyed with Sam’s spiel. Neither one, here for Sam’s antics and it was clear as day.

When the youngest brother finished his long sip, his wide eyes were back on his brother, no longer judgemental. A miracle. Apparently tonight, all it took was a quick drink to flip the switch. “She was just really excited to hear about the appointment. Wanted to know how it went. Curious over the gender.”

“Oh,” Jake plainly responded. He seemed unbothered. It made you pause, but he kept talking before you could question it. “Well, we’re not telling the gender yet. She should understand that. It’s common sense,” he explained, brushing some hair behind his ear, his jawline exquisitely accentuated with the motion. “And I can’t help that I forgot my phone in the car. Shit happens. We used it for directions to and from the clinic and my mind was in other places when we got home.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You appreciated how firm he’d been about the gender not being revealed to anyone but the two of you. That was hot. And, he still wasn’t jumping to go get his phone or anything. 

“Well, whatever,” Sam rolled his eyes dramatically, snorting. “I told her to bring her sweet little ass over here and join the party!” Sam exclaimed, Jake scoffed at his brother, shaking his head. His eyebrows settled momentarily, giving the younger brother slightly more attention. “I told her you’d mentioned it to me. That you wanted her here.”

And, Jake’s expression was stern once more. “I didn’t ever mention it, Sam,” Jake griped back.

“I know, I know. But I’m sure you were going to,” Sammy spouted back like a noncompliant child. “Because you loooove her, Jake. I’m sure you were going to invite your girlfriend to this. Just be glad you have a good one, Jake.” He cracked the ‘k’ sound in Jake’s name, sticking his lip out. “Feel like I have to appreciate her for you sometimes. You don’t understand what you hav–.”

“I understand how incredible she is,” Jake interrupted, cutting the younger brother off. He seemed aggravated, but his words still hit your heart unpleasantly. He wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it. He thought she was incredible. “Thank you for inviting her, Sam,” Jake finished, seeming done with the conversation entirely. 

Was he actually thankful she was coming? You couldn’t tell. Either way, your stomach felt as though it had fallen to the bottoms of your feet. The heaviness at the idea of Maya being with all of you tonight was making you feel sick. Your eyes snapped for a glimpse over to Jake, and he was doing the same towards you at the exact same moment. You’d felt him looking at you, perhaps gauging your reaction. But, even though you were feeling it all, you were not showing a whole lot. You were working on it. Every single day, you worked on not letting it show how much you despised her presence.

“She’s on her way,” Sam cut in again. Your ears were ringing.

 But before Jake could say anything, Josh hopped in. “Y/n. How about you invite that guy over? The one from your classes? Heard you’ve been hanging out with him. . .”

You really didn’t want this night to turn into anything. Didn’t want Maya here. Definitely didn’t want Theo here. And you already knew you would be putting on some sort of show if Theo were to show up. You’d try to force things. For your experiment.

Tonight, though, you didn’t feel like forcing anything. Not after such a special appointment like today’s. Not after what had just happened in the kitchen, only moments ago. You wanted time with your friends after an incredibly special day spent with Jake. All you’d wanted was a night with the guys. Just like it had been before. You wanted a comfortable, calming evening.

The more you’d thought about it, it’d honestly seemed like perfect timing when Josh had called earlier. A wondrous cherry on top of a beautiful day. God, why had Sam invited her over? You knew it was most likely because of his drunkenness. But. . . why did he have to be so drunk at 6 pm? You still didn’t know why his week had been shit.

Wait. Hold up. Josh had brought Theo up as a possible guest. How did he–? How did Josh know about your current situation with Theo? You hadn’t talked to him about. . . Oh. 

You peeked over at Jake, who was suddenly turning in the complete opposite direction of you. HIs back to all of you as he went back to the pizza. He had to be to blame. Right? Someone had been complaining to his twin. You were sure of it. How else would Josh know you’d been talking to Theo? And why did Jake care about it so much? When he had his girlfriend, who was seemingly perfect? What the two of you had. . . it wasn’t solid anymore – had it ever been? And what he had with her was concrete.

Did Jake really care so much about Theo as to tell Josh? You’d meant what you told him earlier: he shouldn’t care. He should not care. There was only one girl he needed to care about (well, not including the one in your belly) and he was dating her. Maya. Not you. Damn it all to fuck. You were wired to hell over all of it. And Maya was on her damn way. 

The reason it sucked the most was because it was you getting slapped in the face with reality again. All it did was remind you that Jake was not yours. You’d have to spend all night watching them. Real enjoyable.

Josh’s voice pulled you back. “You’ve been seeing him, why not invite him?”

You know. . . He was right. Why the fuck not? As much as you did not want all of the extra people over, you couldn’t stand the thought of watching Jake and Maya being all cuddly while you sat miserably single and pregnant with his baby all night. It was the perfect opportunity to get your mind off of Jake. Even after a perfect day like today. But, today. . . it wasn’t real. It was just a bunch of emotions stacked on one special day about the baby. Not you and Jake. Today was a fairytale. 

Yet, even as you tried to delegitimize it all, your neck burned with the shape of his lips. You wanted more. But more wasn’t yours to have.

All this did was remind you. It reminded you that you still needed to test your theory of falling for another guy to prove something to yourself and to Jake. You didn’t need Jake to be happy. Truly. Seven months ago, you hadn’t needed him. You could get back to that. He was the father of your child. Nothing more.

You could’ve laughed at that fucking lie. Nothing more. A complete falsity, that statement.

You didn’t laugh about it, though. No, instead, you looked at Josh straight on. Your lips quirked the best they could with a plain smirk, “I will, actually. Thanks for thinking of that, Joshy.”

“Well, yeah. You deserve–.”

“You deserve to get your freak on, y/n!” Sam cheered, bringing up his red solo cup filled with God knew what. “All of those pent up baby hormones. I’ve heard about those and goddamn, Dragon. I can not imagine how you’re doing it while being so sexy and single as a pring—!”

“None of that was even remotely close to what I was going to say, Samuel,” Josh cut him off, motioning at him blatantly to zip his mouth. His hand cut a firm line in the air, still as could be. He was serious. Josh’s face was stone still and his mouth was in a straight line, completely void of laughter. He was very angry with Sam for opening his mouth.  You could tell that much. 

“Josh, it’s fine–,” you attempted, getting cut off by the drunk and rambling baby brother.

“Well who cares. Because I’m drunk,” Sam seemed to reason, with nobody and everybody all at once. He looked over at his curly-haired brother, who was raising a frustrated brow in Sam’s direction. “Josh, I’m going to put some music on the record player. If you wanna beat me to it, I suggest you–.”

And, it seemed, Josh was suddenly better again at the mention of music. It took him no time to sprint out of the kitchen, brushing past Sam. You watched Sam laze about after Josh. And you knew Josh was sure to get his first pick. Sam followed slowly out with a dramatic wave, foot over foot. His drink, sloshing over the cup as he simultaneously took a drink.

Then, he was gone. Ruckus over. For now.

“Holy fuck. He is in for a long ass night, huh?” Danny commented, still leaning against the frame of the kitchen’s entry. He’d barely said a word before, keeping a safe place at the back. 

You smiled over at the tall man, feeling sympathy for Sammy and his friend who was trailing behind, cleaning up his messes. Right before you could ask why Sammy was so drunk, Jake started talking.

“Damn fuckin’ straight,” Jake agreed, making your head turn in his direction. He was creating the next pie with a variety of vegetables, with his back turned to you. “Ironically enough, I’m making this damn veggie pizza for him as we speak. Sure fuckin’ hope he’s not so wasted he can’t enjoy it. Working my ass off.”

“He will definitely enjoy it. Promise you, dude. Your pizzas are unrivaled,” Danny reassured.

Unrivaled. You were suddenly intrigued, remembering you’d never tried Jake’s pizzas. In the past, whenever pizza was chosen as the meal for you and Jake, it had only ever been ordered. Did he make pizza for Maya all of the time? Because she was special? Or did he order pizza with her too? Why did it matter?

“Why’s he drinking so much anyway?” You piped up, digging yourself out of the slump your mind was creating. Leaning a hip against the fridge diagonal from the kitchen entryway Danny stood in, you crossed your arms at your chest. 

“I mean, I know it’s fun to just get drunk sometimes. I get it. I’ve done that before. But. . . he seemed a little emotional when he started talking about relationships.” You stopped talking to look down and pick at your nails. The feeling of being a bad friend to Sam was making your heart sink. You were sad that you had no clue what was going on in his life. You didn’t know what was going on in anyone’s lives. 

You felt really selfish. Selfish. Fuck. The word came flashing back through foggy memories, hearing it big, loud, and without any warning. Only hearing it in your mom’s voice. . . Way deep down in your chest you felt how she’d once said it. You remembered the way tears would gather in your throat, too scared to cry. You were made to feel selfish at every turn as a child — even the act of crying. Looking back now, that was fucking ridiculous. 

But your mom was always the first to comment on your selfishness. She’d remind you how selfish you were at every turn — how much of an inconvenience you’d been to her. The words made your gut twist with unknown memories attached to them. You couldn’t locate those memories right now and you were glad you couldn't. Even without knowing what they were specifically, they frightened you. Terrified you. 

Veering away from the unknown, pitch black trenches of memories, you thought back on your mom. How she always told you that everything you did for others was only going to serve you in the long run anyway. She never let you believe for a second that you thought of anyone but yourself. 

And how you’d acted after she left? Towards Elsie? Maybe she’d had a point all of those years ago. Was there any good in you? You felt that term at the pit of your stomach now, weighing you to the fridge. Selfish.

Back to the subject, y/n. Come on, girl. Not the time.

“I’m kind of out of the loop these days,” you surmised, chewing the inside of your cheek with a frown.

“Sammy was actually talking to a girl. Got pretty serious for a few months there. Same chick from the AirBnb, actually. You guys met her. A little off and on for a bit, but they kept in contact long enough. So, for the past few months or so, it’s been everyday,” Danny’s eyes widened as he blew out a breath, taking a sip from the beer bottle he’d been nursing since he got to the apartment. “Been spending all of their time together. It’s been everything to him. They’ve been in each other’s beds almost every night, talking about pets and Christmas family gatherings but. . . She texted him last night with this long winded excuse as to why she couldn’t be with Sam because she had to go back to her boyfriend of like ten years that she’d broken up with right before Sammy,” Danny swiped a hand over his forehead, shaking his head side to side. His long black hair, waving around him with the motion. “So. . . She basically used Sam as a rebound and it’s hitting him in the heart.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you breathed, repulsed on Sammy’s behalf. He was such a sensitive and carefree guy and this girl had used that. . . Was that what you did with Jake? Did you use him too frequently? Still?

God. Stop it, y/n!

“Yeah . . . He was a ball on Josh’s bed last night, only wanting his big brother to talk him down from it. He really liked her. Probably actually loved her. You know how much Sam feels for others.”

“Feels everything,” Jake noted, sprinkling some seasonings on the pizza in front of him. “Maybe it’s a genetic trait ‘cause I’m right there with him.” 

Danny huffed a laugh, raising a brow at that. He took another healthy swig. “Maybe.”

And then Sam was calling Danny’s name from the living room, begging for ‘back-up’ against the ‘Evil Elf.’ You couldn’t help but snort at the term Evil Elf. You heard Josh raise his voice at Sam’s insulting nickname. But your snort quickly turned into a belly laugh as you heard him repeatedly spouting it at Josh in response. Knowing him, he was probably flicking Josh’s forehead or some shit to emphasize it. 

Damn. . . He was bound to be the fucking enter-tain-ment for the night. You hoped he would be a good thought diverter. 

“You better help Josh in Sam’s attack against him,” Jake encouraged Danny. “I would, but. . .,” Jake motioned at the pizza he was preparing as he finally turned. “I’m on the last one.”

When you caught a glimpse of his face, you saw some of his own amusement at the ordeal. His teeth weren’t showing, but his dimples were present in his cheeks as he gave Danny a loose grin. 

“No, I got it, dude,” Danny responded without another thought on the matter. “You’re busy.”

And, within seconds, Daniel was gone. Leaving you alone with Jake. Jake, who was back to looking at his damn pizza. His strong back, facing you. Those broad shoulders, mocking you. 

You decided not to follow Danny, wanting to stay with Jake as long as you could. Even if he wouldn’t look at you, his presence comforted you. Though, not wanting to be completely distracted by his aura, you tried to busy yourself with an activity of your own. 

Oh! You could make dessert! 

Quickly checking the built-in pantry to the right of the fridge, you saw some brownie mix and a box of yellow cake mix sitting in the baking goods section of a shelf. And without any thought or question, brownies won the battle of what sounded most delicious. 

Brownies suddenly sounded positively scrumptious to you. So, reaching forward, you grabbed them out and placed them on the island. When you turned to place them there, Jake still had his back turned to you. Goddamn. He was doing a stand-up job at ignoring you completely. The silence between you was deafening.

You didn’t even acknowledge him. This would be good. It would be good to ignore him. You just went about your business getting all of the ingredients out and your hand mixer. . . but you needed a bowl. 

When you went to grab one, you noticed the mixing bowls were just a tad bit too high for you to reach. And even though Jake wasn’t the tallest man ever, he was still taller than you. He would be able to get what you needed for you. Perfect.

Ugh! No! The whole point of busying yourself was to ignore him!

Not wanting to give in to the urge to ask him for help, you tried your damn best to just do it yourself. Standing on your tiptoes, you stretched a hand way up for that one clear mixing bowl you always used when you baked. . . So close, yet just out of your reach. A lot like someone–.

“Dammit, y/n, let me get it.” His beautifully raspy voice was suddenly in your ear, but he sounded a little perturbed. All the sound did was make your cheeks grow warm and pink. “Just ask for help.”

He was right behind you, his front side completely pressed to your backside, making you dizzy. And as he placed one hand on your hip to balance himself, you thought you were going to buckle immediately. The feeling of his searing hot hold on the bit of skin at your hip, peeking out from your t-shirt, made you shiver.

His fingers were so close to the bump, but not quite touching it. As he pushed himself into you a bit further, you felt him against your ass, right through the thin material of your black Soffe shorts. He wasn’t completely hard. Not yet. But he would get there before too long if this continued like it had before Sam’s intrusion. You knew him. 

Back in the moment, you noticed his other hand reaching up for the bowl. And, of course, he grabbed it with no problem at all, being tall enough to grab the dish that had been too difficult a job for you. Ugh. You needed him. Even if it were just for a fucking dish. 

When he placed the bowl on the counter, you reached to touch the bowl at the same moment he went to move his hand. And for a brief bit of time, your hands grazed each other. It happened for long enough that you both stilled your hands, appreciating the feeling. . .

He didn’t move from his spot behind you. 

He laid his palm flat on the counter, grounded himself. Boxed you in with his body — the sandalwood, vanilla, and suede in his cologne made your head swirl. You gripped the bowl tighter, enjoying the fact that he’d stayed behind you, but wanting more. His hot breath continued to bathe your already warm neck in the most delicious wisps of air. Naturally, you leaned into him just the slightest bit. Couldn’t help it.

Once more, his enticingly gravelly voice was in your ear. “Was Sam right?”

You turned your head to speak to him more directly, but kept your eyes downcast to maintain some sense of stability. Lowly, you questioned him right back. “Was he right about what?” 

“Are you going to mess around with Theo?” He hushed, breath fanning over your cheek. He spoke Theo’s name as if it were laced with poison. “You wanna take out your baby hormones on him?”

“That’s not your business, Jake,” you breathed back, shakily taking in some air to fill your tight lungs. You moved your hand on his, watching the movement. You gently traced your fingertips down his long digits. His strong hand fidgeted, flexing at the action. Slowly, you went to rest your palm on the top of his hand. 

But when you went to move your hand, he stopped you. His hand quickly turned the other way around to grab yours in a sure grip — seamlessly lacing your fingers. 

“Do you really want him?” he posed the question heatedly, placing a breath of a kiss on your temple, lips brushing your skin. 

“I don’t fucking know, Jake,” you hissed under your breath, pushing your ass into him as he brushed your hair to the side, once again pressing his lips to the column of your neck. 

Before you could think of another thing, he was spinning you around, your back smoothly pressing to the side of the fridge nearest to you. Your breath was heavy enough to emit a gasp at the motion. Just out of view from the guys, Jake kept you hidden, pulling you away from the fridge just a bit and closer to him.

His grasp on your hand let up a little, his palm pressing against the small of your back the best it could with your hand in the way. At the same time, he pressed his hips into yours, showing his reaction to you. Oh.

He kept hold of your hand at your lower back, his arm wrapped close around you. His strength held you in a secure grip, making you feel so safe and at home. . . Just like the lavender field. . . 

Your stomach was pressed into his, there was a sliver of skin where your belly was exposed at the hem of your t-shirt. Your warm skin brushed up against the buttons of his shirt and the soft material. The cottony linen of it felt like a dream against your skin, so close to him. And, wrapping one hand at the curve between your neck and the base of your skull, his soft lips made home on your neck, placing wet kiss after wet kiss on the skin there. His tongue, peeking out only slightly to touch you with every nip from his lips.

He used his hold to position your neck just right, to get the angle he wanted. Your body ignited with heat and desire for him. The way your head fell back and your neck loosened with the tiniest sigh from your lips was unavoidable.

“You keep doing this to me, baby,” he groaned against your neck. Slowly, he lifted his mouth from you, his tongue had been so close to running over your pulse.

But he’d stopped.

“Doing what to you, Jacob?” You grit back, pulling your head up lazily to stare at him. There was fire in your eyes as you peeked up at him from under your lashes. Your chest lifted in heavy breaths.

“I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help but look at you and— and. . .,” he trailed off, gently moving his hand to run a thumb over your cheekbone. His shoulders, sturdy, and curved in to keep you to himself. “I just look at you and want to bend you over and remind you that you can do better than him.”

Your thighs squeezed together, you were aching for him to do what he described. . . Yet, as much as his words made you eager to do just what he wanted in the middle of this kitchen right this second. . . he’d said something you both needed to remember. It was wrong. Though, it was odd. . . Just as much as it felt foolishly wrong, it felt completely right.

But, right now, the wrong was what hung over your shoulders. The guys could walk in at any moment. Maya could arrive (thanks to Sam’s lovely invite) and catch you both. Wrapped up in each other. Goddammit.

“Jake,” you sighed, sadly and resolved to the decision to break up whatever was going on at the moment. “We shouldn’t– we shouldn’t be doing this. We aren’t together. This is–. You have Maya and I have to. . :,” you trailed off, unable to finish.

He didn’t take his eyes from you for several seconds, studying your face. You hadn’t moved. You didn’t want to be the first one to move. His eyebrows drew together in deep concentration. His amber-brown irises showed that he understood when he nodded hesitantly, backing away. You immediately missed the contact. His shoulders were tense and bunched up before he stood up straighter to roll them out. 

But, you could tell how upset it made him, eyes downcast until he was leaning against the island across from you, putting his hands out to grab hold of it when he was near enough. Across from you, he looked up at you with conflict ghosting over his features. He understood the levity of the situations you kept putting yourselves in, but what he understood about it made him angry. Or, at least you assumed. You’d spent several months observing every little (and big) emotion Jake felt, you had a pretty good inclination on how well you could read the man. Most times.

Besides, you felt the same exact way, so you could sense it billowing off of him in waves. 

“I know,” he sighed, his body rigid and eyes emptier than they’d been moments before. He slapped on a smile that stretched a little too tight across his lips. “Just–go rest. I need to wait in here for the pizzas to finish.”

“But I need to make the brown–.”

“I will make them.”

“Jake–.”

“Do you want to make them?”

“Yes, I want to eat some, so—.”

“But did you truly want to make them, or can you just let me do that for you?”

You stood there, at a loss over much more than the brownies. Without any other idea of how to respond, you just placed your hands on your hips, shrugging. In the end, preparing and baking them had just been a distraction.

If you weren’t going to allow yourself to be in the same room as Jake, all you really wanted to do was sit down and rest your feet after the long day. But damn. . .you’d made yourself want those brownies. . . The picture on the box was calling your name. . .

Jake huffed the smallest laugh, but his face was still void of any one emotion.“I know you don’t want to make them, but you want to eat them. Let me make them for you.”

You almost agreed. But, you looked over to the sink. You hadn’t finished with the lavender. You’d gotten distracted.

“The plant. I need to put it in a new–.”

“I’ll get it,” Jake said, his eyes the slightest bit brighter, even though his mouth still held a smile that didn’t look completely real. “You need to sit down. It’s been a long day. Go talk to my brothers or something. I’m sure you’d love to do that and they fucking love you, so.”

Well, it was settled, then. He was correct in all of that.

“And call your boyfriend,” he suddenly said, turning his back to you, tone too friendly. It sounded as though he was suddenly okay with Theo. And you knew damn better than that. 

But you couldn’t question his sudden change in attitude with his back turned to you once again. And why was his sudden shift in attitude pissing you the hell off? Stupid ass shit. It shouldn’t even matter — it just threw you for a loop. You were still so angry and he was just. . . Fine? Not fair.

Ugh. If anything, it should have made you glad that he wasn’t being so hostile about Theo. . . But instead, you missed the way he inflamed at the mention of your study buddy. You missed the heat from moments ago.

You clenched your fists at your hips, digging into the flesh before you decided to pull down your shirt a little to cover your whole tummy. Even if it was only a couple inches of skin, it made you feel exposed and you were not in the mood anymore. 

To test him just a little, you fought back. “He’s not my–.”

“Well, he’s on his way to being it, so might as well start calling him that,” he responded, a little sharper. His broad back still to you, as he went about grabbing the rest of the ingredients.

You stood there for a moment, contemplating what to say – if you should say anything. But when he avoided any and all eye contact, you decided to just leave the room. He was a pro at pissing you the fuck off. And you didn’t want to argue with him over something so stupid and trivial. 

You didn’t make a sound as you turned on your heel and made your way to the living room to be with the boys. Sam, and his loud signature cackle, bouncing off of the living room walls to greet you.

As soon as your ass hit the couch cushion, you were texting Theo. Because, well. . . fuck Jake. Suddenly, you were very curious to see how Jake might react to having him around all night.

Theo took almost no time to respond. 

Theo, 6:23 p.m.: Sure thing! I’ll be there :) Thanks for thinking of me, beautiful!

The term of endearment made your heart leap in your chest, your cheeks blushing as a little grin fit to your lips. Beautiful. Every girl liked being called beautiful by a cute guy. You might as well fucking enjoy it. He was coming for you tonight. Only you. No one else. 

He only wanted you. You were special to Theo. Jake couldn’t say that. There was at least one woman more important than you and he made that clear by continuing to be with her. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you were relieved for it. . .

In your heart, you knew that your graveyard of a past was not something he was responsible for. He didn’t need to be the one picking up the pieces. You’d rather him be with a woman who brought him nothing but joy. You brought doom and destruction. Right? You always had.

You were momentarily distracted as you watched Sam uselessly trying to put his hair in a high bun. Danny was rolling his eyes and soon coming to his rescue. He really was such a good friend. Everyone needed a Daniel Wagner in their life.

Then, as you were texting Theo back with a slightly flirty text, you wondered what the night might entail for you. Playing this damn game was ridiculous and petty, but you had a point to prove. To Jake and to yourself. You didn’t need him. 

Who knew if he cared to realize it. . . But you did. In all reality, you knew Jake really didn’t even care that much. It was more about the baby than you anyway, you were sure of it. So, you contemplated. 

Should you take it a step further? Force yourself out of Jake Mode? You hadn’t been with anyone else for a long-ass time. . . It could be really good for you. Even if it felt a little strange doing that with someone else while Jake’s baby moved around (apparently quite a bit) inside your belly. You couldn’t feel her yet, but Dr. Rose had assured you that it would be coming sooner than later. 

What would it be like when you could feel her? Would that make sex with someone else even more awkward? 

You rolled your eyes at that thought. Duh. It would be like your baby giving you a piece of her mind for giving anyone but her Daddy attention. Well, too bad her Daddy wanted to give someone else attention. And too bad you were too fucked up to give yourself to her Daddy. 

Damn, even though you’d just been pissed at Jake, referring to him as Daddy in your head was doing something to you. Something Jake couldn’t be the one to help you with. Because you were done with the foolish moments.

You knew you’d end up needing help alleviating some of that pent up tension. All of the. . . moments with Jake recently weren’t doing your over-excited sex drive and hormones any good. You were on the verge of going absolutely ballistic if you didn’t do something to ease the pent up energy.

And you were not about to give Jake the idea that he would be the one to help (as much as you wanted it). Not anymore would you give that idea to him. Not when he was so quick to turn you on and just as soon turn his back. 

Fuck that.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

“I call the hard liquor!” Sam excitedly declared as he started fast walking towards the kitchen. 

“Dear God,” Josh grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer. “Please, God no.”

“Um, absolutely not,” Danny replied, already following closely behind. 

Theo quickly got up to follow the other two, acting like he was somehow part of the inside joke. It was awkward to watch, but you were glad he was up and away from you for a little bit. His arm had been around you all night and it had been suffocating the air around you. Claustrophobia was definitely real. After a few seconds of feeling the relief, it dawned on you what Sammy had said. Liquor. You Laugh, You Drink. This was a drinking game. Duh.

“Fuuuck,” you groaned. For some reason, you’d totally forgotten about the whole drinking part of the game. Even though it was literally part of the title, you’d just skimmed over it. Pregnancy brain.

“What, love?” Josh inquired, brows knit in concern. “You okay?”

“Yes,” you drew out the word with a sad smile and a shake of your head. “I just remembered it’s a drinking game.”

“Oh no,” Maya chimed in, her naturally whiny voice getting right under your skin. It was obvious she was trying too hard to act like she cared.

She sounds like a goddamn Kardashian, you thought with an internal roll of your eyes. 

“Oh, y/n. Fuck. Do we need to find a different game?” Josh wondered aloud, doe-eyed and totally willing to uproot the one game Sam wanted to play. It was Sam’s night and you weren’t about to rain on his already-depressing parade. “We can total–.”

“No, Joshy,” you swatted the idea away with a wave of your hand. And with a hand to your belly, you leaned back, a wider grin gracing your lips. “I’ll just sit here and watch. It’ll be just as fun.”

“No it won’t,” Josh argued, shaking his head. “I want you to participate. Let me think. . .,” He sat there for a second, on the ground, legs crossed in front of him. He had his thinking face on as he tapped a finger to his chin. His eyes lit up after a few seconds, apparently coming up with something. “How about none of us drink and we just get out if we laugh?”

“The drinking adds to the hilarity of the game,” you replied. “Seriously, Josh. It’s o–.”

“How about. . .,” Jake suddenly chimed in to your left, having taken up the arm chair with Maya. Your skin heated at hearing his voice. You hadn’t looked his way since he’d come to sit in the living room an hour or so ago.

You’d been rude enough to not even say thank you for the delicious pizza you’d all devoured. Or the unbelievable brownies that he’d ended up baking for you, swirling caramel in with them and everything. He’d done more than he had to, but you didn’t want to think about it. But, you decided to finally show him a little respect by turning your head in the direction of his voice. 

“How about I don’t drink either and you and I can just play the game by getting out if we laugh,” he paused, probably assuming you’d turn all the way to look at him better in response. You didn’t. “Um. . . Everyone else can drink. It’ll still be funny that way and we don’t have to break Sammy’s heart by taking away the drinking.”

Why was he being so sweet? You hated how kind he could be. It did your heart very little good.

“Jake, no. Don’t do that. I’ll be–,” you began, finally letting your eyes flit over to him. But, he wasn’t looking at you. No, he was watching Josh who’d started clapping. 

Apparently Josh liked the idea. “Great thinking, Jacob!” Josh applauded him from his spot on the floor, across from the three of you. The curly headed twin languidly rose from his spot next to the record player, brushing his khaki pants before pointing towards the kitchen. “If that’s all settled, I’m going to grab a White Claw and assist Daniel in herding Sam back in here.”

Without any time to protest and Josh already on his way to the kitchen, you were out-voted. No drinking for you or Jake, apparently. 

“Well. . .,” Maya dragged in her valley-girl twang, placing a hand on Jake’s arm that you immediately turned your head at seeing. “I won’t drink if you don’t, babe.” 

Your stomach lurched at her acting like she could save the day by not making Jake do something alone with the pregnant lady.

“No. . . it’s okay,” Jake said in return, trying to use a honeyed little voice to reassure her. 

You could’ve puked on the spot. 

“I don’t want you to feel alone, though,” the gorgeous dark-haired woman offered. You were glad you’d been avoiding looking at them all night. You’d watched her walk in and claim the chair. Your chair. Aaand that had been enough. You hated watching her and Jake and it was honestly aggravating how perfect she was in her statuesque beauty. 

“I won’t be,” he reminded her in the same sugary tone. “Y/n isn’t drinking either.”

There was a pause where it seemed like Maya was weighing whether or not that was a valid response. You decided it didn’t even fucking matter to you what she thought. And at T he perfect time, you heard Stevie approach your legs with a meow.  So, you took advantage of her seeking you out and lifted her to sit in your lap. Of course, the cat relaxed easily against your crossed legs (because, thankfully, you could still do that – well, barely). 

But when you heard a hushed voice coming from Maya and Jake’s direction, you obviously had to peek over. Were they whispering about you? 

When you looked their way, you realized it was only Maya doing the whispering. Jake sat there, leaned forward towards you, on the ottoman. His hands, clasped and elbows sitting on his thighs. His eyes were cast down as she said whatever she was saying in his ear, his brows scrunched as if thinking critically over what she was saying.

You squinted at her with her mouth so close to his ear, her hair draped over her shoulder, body turned almost entirely towards him as she edged closer to him from her spot in the armchair. You could see her incredible cleavage from this vantage point. God. As you further observed, you noticed her hand was up to cover her mouth, too. Little fucking secret keeper. This was your fucking apartment – if the bitch had something to say, she needed to say it out loud. 

So, with a clenched jaw and slanted eyes, you addressed it. “You know, May–.”

“It’s fine, babe,” Jake spit out before you could say anything, his eyes flicking over to yours as if to say ‘It’s not worth it.’ “I don’t care that much. You have fun. I promise I’ll still have fun, too. Have you met my brothers? They don’t need alcohol to act like idiots. Y/n and I will get to stay in longer anyway. . . No one will even notice if we laugh,” he tried to joke.

Maya’s eyes were downcast as she rubbed Jake’s arm, squeezing his bicep. You watched her finally come over to him and drape herself over his lap, slowly going to get up for alcohol. One ass cheek sat on the ottoman next to him, and the other practically on top of his lap as she went to get up. But, before she could, you watched in horror as she rubbed salt in the wound. She cupped both hands around his cheeks and brought him over to her. And, sitting there, still petting Stevie, you got to gloomily witness Maya wrapping her lips around his. It was in the most sultry manner (or was that just her?) – laying her claim on the man whose child you held inside of you. 

Being the person on the opposite side of this made you want to fucking puke. His eyes, closing in appreciation of the kiss was icing on the damn cake. And the way his line of sight found you mid-kiss and clung to you until the end of the mini makeout . . . That was hell. The deepest, most fiery crevice of hell.

But, you didn’t fail to notice. . . he hadn’t put his hands on her during whatever that had been.

And he went to look at his phone as she left, settling back in the arm chair. He hadn’t even cared to watch her curvaceous body leave the room.

Strange.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

The giggle that erupted from Josh as he drew his card was so loud, you were certain the neighbors could hear as it echoed. He’d knocked out more than a couple of White Claws — and drank them much faster than he should have. He shook his head, full head of curls bouncing around. His hand cupped his mouth to muffle yet another boisterous laugh as he read again to himself.

“Elmo can’t believe this!” He exclaimed, chuckling afterwards as the rest of you shared tiny grins and wide eyes. Was he imitating a Sesame Street character?

And, when he started singing Elmo’s World, your theory was confirmed. You had to admit it was. . . alarming how perfectly he mimicked the red, furry character. Almost as if the puppet lived inside of him.

The theme song clashed horribly with the Earth, Wind, and Fire record Josh had chosen. You squinted at your curly haired friend, cringing just a bit at whatever he was doing. But with another impossibly high note of the song, the room broke out in snorts and snickers. All of you, trying to hide your laughter. Your cringing loosened with your body at the funniness of Josh’s theatrics.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Sam snarked, confused and clearly lacking any patience with his brother's antics. 

The rest of you were caught in a fit of giggles as Josh continued to say things as Elmo, in third person and everything. Though you were also confused as hell, you were equally impressed by his spot-on impersonation. The youngest brother leaned forward to try to nab the card from Josh, but Josh hastily brought his hand back to himself.

“My card, Sam!” Josh shouted, slapping his younger brother's hand away, still wheezy laughing. Then, he shook his head, pretending to dust off the front of the card. “What an imbecile,” he mumbled, a bit more serious to imply his annoyance with Sam.

The roll of Sam’s eyes was the most dramatic display of exasperation you’d ever seen from him, and that was certainly saying something. You tried so hard to hold back your laughter, fearful that any more pressure on your tummy would cause you to pee right on the spot. (Thanks, pregnancy.) 

“Then shut the hell up and read it,” Sam spat, impatiently waiting to move along with the game.  

“Okay, okay,” Josh started, holding his card in front of his face, pretending to adjust the invisible monocle that was (not) sitting over his left eye for an added dramatic effect. “You’re a tickle me Elmo,” he cleared his throat, attempting to hold whatever his persona was, but cracking yet another laugh after he read the words aloud. “. . . And you insist that the target tickle you, and if they do, get furious at them.” 

The room resounded with a collective “Oh!” once you all discovered the true reasoning behind his little (and terrifyingly accurate) impression. 

He held the card down just enough that his eyes peeked over the cardstock, his right eyebrow cocked as his eyes flitted around the room. “Who shall be my playmate?” He joked as he placed his hand on the bottle, spinning it with a graceful tap, just enough to land on the person sitting right beside him: Samuel.

“That’s not fair!” Sam protested, still drunk, but thankfully having been cut off from the hard stuff as soon as he’d tried to claim it at the beginning of the game. “You didn’t spin hard enough, Joshua! Not a fair spin. Do it again.”

“The bottle chooses who it chooses, brother,” Jake called from his spot, where you refused to look. 

You just settled back into Theo’s arm that was slung across the back of the couch, trying your best to be comfortable. Fake it till you make it. And when Sam straight up pouted for thirty seconds straight, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

“Samuel Francis,” you said his name flatly. “Just play the goddamn card with Josh. Jesus. There is definitely worse. You’re just lucky he’s not–.”

“Naming every part of my body while touching it,” Sam interrupted, locking eyes with you as he raised a brow. A mischievous grin rising under his mustache.

And as your mind rushed with the memory, you couldn’t stop your eyes from flicking to Josh’s. Of course, he was already looking at you. He knew now was not the time. You knew he knew, no matter how much he’d had to drink. And from your peripheral, you saw Danny looking at you as well. And when you looked over towards him, he was giving you a look that said ‘don’t listen to him’, which you waved off with a swat of your hand in the air and a shaky smile. 

Don’t think about it, y/n, your inner voice counseled you. Sam’s just drunk and doesn’t hold enough stock in what he’s saying for you to take it personally. Just ignore him.

“Sam.” You heard Jake sternly say his name, close to you from where he sat snugly in the armchair to your left. The seriousness in his tone made you freeze.

And this time when he spoke, you let yourself look at him. Instantly, you regretted it, seeing his arm around Maya’s shoulders. Her face, pink from how much she’d had to drink. Bitch liked to fucking laugh, apparently. 

But you just focused on how his eyes found yours for a solid ten seconds, full of fire and a sort of protection. Your heart leapt in your chest at the same time he trained his eyes, once again, on Sam. “Fuck right off and go tickle Josh,” he grit at his younger brother, eyebrows set in a straight line. “Suck it the hell up.”

-🌼🌼🌼- 

The night continued on after Sam tickled Josh’s (very creepy) version of Elmo.

After that one, you got to witness a few more hilarious rounds. You’d belly laughed at Sam imitating a bird and pecking endlessly at Josh with his nose. The way your sides hurt when Danny got to be Nicholas Cage while searching for the Declaration of Independence (Jake had been the Declaration of Independence) was incomparable. And you tried hard to not cringe when Theo had been Mickey Mouse going through withdrawals and looking for drugs that his target had (that lucky target had been Sam, once again).

Thankfully, you’d had to pee at the perfect time and got to skip your turn. But when you came back, it was Jake’s turn. It seemed as though they’d waited on you. He had just picked his card as you worked to make yourself comfortable on the couch. As comfortable as you could be, at least. It took you a moment to find the right spot, sighing with relief as you finally settled. Theo, of course, didn’t offer any help. He was oblivious to your pain, ignoring it altogether as he sat on the cushion next to you, still all giggly over his (terrible) impression of Mickey Mouse. 

But, Jake noticed your discomfort. You knew he did, you could feel him watching you. And it was confirmed for you when he spoke up, asking if you were okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said to him with a shake of your head, glancing in his direction, avoiding looking at him for too long. You knew it would hurt if you offered more than that, with the way Maya had herself wrapped around him. “Just a little hard to get comfy these days.” 

Except, when you’d heard the soft timbre in his voice as he’d moved to lean forward, over the chair’s arm to quietly check on you. . . you were, in fact, not fine. Hearing his concern for you had made it as though there were no Theo or Maya or anyone in the room. For a moment, at least.

When you broke your own little rule and looked over again, you watched as he untangled himself from Maya. And within a moment, he was situating to face you and the rest of the room on the chair’s ottoman. 

He read the card to himself, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he giggled under his breath. His beautiful teeth, on full display in a wide smile. Then, his face was suddenly serious. He was putting on a persona. You looked at him with wide eyes and a smirk, waiting for whatever this was. One of his eyebrows raised as he flourished a gesture with one hand.

“Oh, fuck no,” Josh groaned from his spot across the room. “Not the Johnny Depp. Please.”

“You’re a pirate, and your map shows where the buried treasure is,” he read aloud, using his best Jack Sparrow accent, flailing his arm and slurring together his words as though he had just downed the last sip of rum. “The bloody problem is. . . it’s in your Target’s. . .,” he paused, presumably for some sort of dramatic effect. His brow, raised, hand out in the air with a wave.

For some reason, you felt nervous. You knew, more than likely, that you two wouldn’t be partners again. Just because it was the same game as all those months ago, didn’t mean it was going to play out the same. But. . . you just had this feeling that something was about to happen. 

With a huff, you readjusted once again as your baby leaned in a way that had your back suddenly killing you. You focused on her and worked to prepare yourself for whatever this card said. (But, as you were about to discover, there was no preparing for this one.)

“There is no way the card said ‘bloody problem’,” Daniel jested with a laugh as your heart skipped a beat in odd anticipation.

“A Jake treat, as one might say,” Josh added, your pulse quickening at all of the possibilities. “The one not being me.”

You just let your eyes roll, playing off your anxiety. You repositioned your body once more. You were feeling very overheated all of a sudden, sweat accumulating in your armpits. And the most recent change in position had already begun to cause aches and pains (thank you, squirmy baby girl). 

“The treasure is in. . .,” he said again, a bit firmer for emphasis and with a glare towards the two mocking brothers. (The glare wasn’t any good for your comfortability, by the way. The irritation painted on his handsome face made your skin heat even further.) “Your target’s. . . . pants,” he finished. The room shot off in laughter, while you nervously scratched at your scalp. You were silently panicking inside your mind.

Fuck. 

He held the card between his middle and index fingers, then flicked it across the room before reaching his hand to the bottle. (Why was that so fucking sexy?) You clenched your fists, your jaw, everything as the bottle was spinning, slowly contemplating the fate of the soul it would choose as Jake’s victim. 

Please no. Please no, you thought, looking away from its slowing spin. The idea that not watching it would somehow deter it from landing on you, asinine. (As if it fucking worked that way.)

But, when you heard the glass slide to a stop, and heard the collective gasp from everyone in the room, you fucking knew.

When you turned back to the bottle, in all of its glory, you found it pointing right at you.

It could’ve landed on anyone else. Literally anyone, but it chose you. Wonderful. 

“Looks like you’re up!” Sam teased, thankfully breaking the tension in the room, the gasps turning into little laughs from the others. 

But there was no laughing for you. . . . not for Jake, either. You both sat still as statues, you watched him contemplate the card as his fingers messed with the hair at the back of his head. Then, they switched to flicking at his nose, and after that, smoothing out an eyebrow. 

He seemed just as nervous as you were at what this card implied. When his eyes caught yours, you felt them silently asking you if you were okay with this, as though he could sense the same nerves that brewed inside of him, brewing inside of you, too. 

Part of you wanted to break the rules, make him spin the bottle again to land on someone else. But when you glanced over to the dark haired beauty sitting next to him, you felt a red hot anger take hold. Your body felt heavy with it as she leaned up to read the card over his shoulder, her chin perched there, holding his thigh tight in her grip, from behind him. And, well, you decided to hell with it. 

“Take it away, Captain,” you responded with a courageous sense of finality (albeit a little nervously). You let your eyes float from her to him and his waiting eyes.

A shiver ran down your spine when his eyes darkened at once, just enough for you to notice. You’d seen him just like this so many times before – confident and spurred on by you. He slowly stood up, hands pushing on his thighs and smoothing down them as he cocked his chin at you. And then, he was sauntering toward you with his Jake walk that, if you were standing, would’ve surely made your knees buckle. 

Thankfully, he threw his little Jack Sparrow impression in there as he came closer and that alleviated some of your stress. For the time being.

“Permission to seek the treasures hidden in yonder trove?” He requested in the same drunken pirate voice, standing before you as you were still seated on the couch. You cracked a smile at him, finding him very funny and even more endearing. He was truly the most endearing person you’d ever met.

Then, as if he were Captain Jack himself, he held out a hand, his body wobbly and perfectly imitating the beloved character. (Oh also – this character was, unashamedly, turning you the fuck on. Or was it just Jake?)

“Permission to seek a kiss on the hand of a fair maiden, m’lady?” He slurred, eyebrow popping up, lips in a loose grin to resemble the charismatic pirate he often chose to imitate. 

You placed your hand in his, used it as leverage to begin to stand. However, before you could scoot your ass completely off the couch, he was motioning for you to stay sitting with a shake of his head. 

“You’re comfortable,” he quickly noted seriously as Jake, not as Captain Jack. He dropped your hand to point a finger down towards you and the couch. “Stay there and I’ll come to you.”

Not needing to be told twice and knees slightly shaky at the command, you looked down at your lap and decided to sit there and wait for what he had in mind. But, as you readjusted just a little, bringing your ass closer to the edge of the couch to better his. . . access to you, you heard him speak up.

“Y/n. Don’t move.”

“I’m not, Jacob,” you argued back, looking up at him. “Just getting situated.”

He huffed, his jaw tightening. You looked back down at your lap, trying to not focus on the sudden, uncomfortable quietness of the room. All night, there had been noise from his brothers, but at this moment? There was not a fucking peep. You fanned your hands out on your thighs several times, flexing your fingers against the soft skin there.

And, after a breath, he was slowly lowering himself to your level. You tried not to watch, focusing instead on your black fingernail polish. But, after a cough from Josh’s side of the room and the smell of Jake’s cologne truly encompassing you, you felt his breath fan across your forehead.

Apprehensively, you peered up to look ahead. And when you did, you were looking right into his amber-brown eyes. Your breath caught in your throat at his closeness. . . and at the fact that you were being observed by a room full of people – including your date and his very serious girlfriend. 

You prayed to whoever was listening that he wouldn’t make you become some animalistic version of yourself. Prayed to control yourself and that he would have enough sense to control himself. He wouldn’t truly risk what he had with Maya for a silly little game and his oversensitivity for your pregnancy, would he? 

Logically, you knew it would be best to just stand up and feign sleepiness to avoid whatever this could turn into. But, realistically, you knew that would make things even more awkward and might even hurt his feelings. . . Although, you doubted that possibility as much. He wouldn’t be that seriously hurt, would he? With the way he’d switched his emotions on and off with you? 

You just stayed put – didn’t want to make anything seem too obviously weird. This was a game. 

But then — he was leaning in. 

Leaning in so surely and steadily that you feared what he was about to do. When all he did was push your hair behind your ear and put his lips close to your ear, you should’ve breathed a sigh of relief, but you couldn’t. Because you felt the eyes of everyone else as he did this. You also felt every breath from his mouth against the shell of your ear. It was making you feel light as air and heavy as a brick house all at once. 

“We’ve been here before, haven’t we?” He mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear, the words feeling dark against your neck. 

And when he pulled back, he was winking at you as if you were the only two in the room. Yet again, paying no mind to his girlfriend who was only feet away. He definitely wasn’t considering your guest who was even closer. Goddammit, Jacob. 

“Be careful,” you mouthed, your eyes which held his, leaving no room for disagreement. 

All he did was smirk in response, pulling himself back just enough that he could sit on his knees before you. And before you knew it, his palms were flush against your thighs. Simultaneously, he was gripping the smooth skin and caressing it, working his way upwards until he met the crease between your thigh and hip on both legs.

And — his hands were under your shorts. Under your motherfucking shorts in front of Maya, God, and everybody. The way the pads of his calloused thumbs traced the gentle crease there set your skin on fire. You knew you were blushing – felt it from your face all the way down to your chest. Without any control over yourself, you aided in his journey, spreading your legs apart for him. 

At that, you heard his breath hitch and you glanced up at him, catching his dark irises in a steely stare of your own. His eyes were blazing with the intensity of the moment – he looked like a man starved. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You were just waiting for your fucking monitor to alert you of a spike in your heart rate. To break this up. But, from what you could hear, it hadn’t made a single beep. Shocking.

The way his thumbs continued to apply pressure to the semi-secret place between your hip and thigh made your head spin and your panties wet. You tilted your head to the side slightly, felt your core flexing around nothing, throbbing for him and his touch. You breathily sighed through your parted lips as the pads of his thumbs edged closer and closer to your center. 

At their own will, your hips lifted off the couch, your body, not allowing you any grace, and begging for his touch. His thumbs hesitantly grazed the seam of your underwear, the only thing preventing his fingers from going where you desired them most. 

Another cough from Josh’s side of the room. 

Fuck it all. Not here. Not here. Not here. 

Why had no one laughed? To stop this? Whatever. You’d do the best you could to get both of you in the right state of mind. Didn’t know how well it would work with your brain all fuzzy, but you’d try.

“Jake,” you began, his name coming out as a moan more than the authoritative tone you intended. So, you tried again. “Jake.”

Suddenly, he was frozen, his hands halting their movements as you caught one another’s eyes. You stared him down until he understood – you had to stop. Like. . . What the actual fuck? What was the point in stopping the kitchen escapade earlier if you were just going to do it, on purpose, in front of everyone?! Thankfully (or not-so), after a few seconds, he removed his hands as if he’d been burnt. Where was Josh’s saving laughter?! God.

Before you could grieve the loss of his touch too heavily, his fingers were back on your legs. So he wasn’t going to completely stop. He did have a task. And you knew damn good and well he intended to finish it with the way he’d been attracted to your body as of late. He began by gripping the middles of your thighs, coming towards you to whisper in your ear yet again. 

“They’re all drunk anyway,” he reassured so very quietly, his words fanning over your ear, hair still tucked behind your ear from before.

Then the calloused tips of his fingers began their venture back up towards the treasure trove. Your shorts. He still had a damn treasure to find. In your pants. 

This time, he began by grazing the waistband of your shorts, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and index for a moment. You gasped when they made unexpected, gentle contact with the skin of your round, pudgy lower tummy.  Your eyes flew to his, which were watching your face carefully.

He chuckled breathlessly at your response, his eyes not quite as dark. They were wide and genuine as he lopsidedly grinned at you, lips once more at your ear for a brief moment. “I love this belly – love our baby who’s moving inside.”

The tears that sprang to your eyes were inevitable at the talk of your tummy and his baby. One little tear dared to fall, and you reached one finger up quickly to catch it, so as not to make this any more than it needed to be. Tears would indicate you were feeling more than a game called for. To balance yourself, you quickly placed the hand behind you to brace against the couch once more. 

Then, his nimble fingers were traveling lower. Your legs were still spread wide enough for him to have proper access. You couldn’t utter a word when his thumb purposefully brushed your lower tummy once more, the other four digits of both hands creeping just the slightest bit into the waistband of your shorts at your hips. You looked down, then up to him — catching his eyes still meeting yours. The proximity was close, close enough that you could’ve kissed him easily without needing to lean down more than an inch. 

It was at that moment you felt the air leave the room. When his fingers crept low enough that you felt them graze your bare hips and ass, grabbing at the skin there the best he could. He was underneath your damn underwear. He wasn’t fucking playing around with this treasure. His thumbs stayed near the front of your shorts, the best they could with your little belly in the way.

You wanted so badly to forget this fucking game and lead him somewhere more private, away from peering eyes. His face was suddenly coming towards you again, lips brushing your ear. “Miss your body so much, baby.”

Your lids lowered at those words, a huff brushing past your lips. Every single word resonated. You missed him. Your body needed him.

It also came to your realization that he hadn’t used the piratical voice once since getting on his knees. Every time he’d whispered in your ear, it had been simply Jake. It wasn’t about the game any longer. Hadn’t been this whole time, you’d bet. His lips stayed against your ear as his fingers continued to massage the flesh at your hips and the crest of your ass, shaky breaths exhaling against you as you kept your breathing in time with his. 

And it was almost as if he’d forgotten about the game altogether when he slipped his thumbs much lower to match the other fingers’ placement. The pads of his thumbs now resting against your underwear. He wasn’t going to go underneath where you wanted him underneath most, apparently. Fucking tease.

Though, he didn’t let the underwear stop the gentle movements of his thumbs. His thumbs were playing dangerously close to the spot he’d been nestled so many times before. You gasped, the sound turning into a tiny moan as he began tapping his thumbs just the slightest bit at your clit over your thong. Your breath caught in your tightening throat, and when he looked up at you, full smirk and a glimmer about his eyes, your body started to tremble, every inch of you heating in a very familiar way. 

Was it beginning to go too far? Absolutely. But if you were truthful about it, you just didn’t care. Not anymore. The room had gone silent moments ago – you knew everyone was watching, and you hoped to fuck that Maya was watching. But you also knew how wrong that was. How wrong it was that you didn’t care the way you should’ve, how wrong it was that this was happening in the first place. 

He placed his mouth on your ear once more, a groan escaping him at the same time you felt your sensitive nub pulsate against his finger. “X marks the spot?” He heatedly spoke against your ear, in a whisper that only you could hear as his thumb pressed just so. So close.

The sigh you pushed past your lips with the crinkle of your brow made you believe a certain something was very near, your core grasping at nothing as your clit hardened familiarly. 

Just then, Josh made an obnoxiously loud and unnatural display of clearing his throat. It was quickly followed by an overly boisterous cackle – an obvious attempt at putting an end to this.  

Your body jolted, but you couldn’t move as your breath came out in short puffs. Jake hadn’t moved an inch, steady, mouth still at your ear. You were so close. So fucking close. The slightest bit of release trickled into your panties, but not enough. Not what you needed. Not the precipice you longed for. Only a teasing little gesture from his knowing fingers to your wanting body. 

Jake’s eyes found yours one more time, begging you to feel what he was feeling. His irises were nearly covered by his pupils, so dark. Only seconds before both of you jumped at the next interruption.

“O-KAY, I’d say you found it, Jacob!” Josh blurted. At this, you forced yourself back to reality. You shook your head inexplicably at the same time that Jake removed his hands, placing them instead on his thighs where he was still kneeling in front of you. 

The loss of his touch reminded you where the fuck you were. The nasty slap of reality – the reality of the game. And worse. . . the mocking reality that Jake was not yours. Lest your round never stop.

“NEXT?” Josh shouted once more, and just as swiftly, Jake was shooting up from his spot, also having been yanked back to the real world. 

Jake shuffled away from you and didn’t dare go anywhere near Maya before he was jetting off to the bathroom. He’d been basically a blur before all of your eyes, barely giving a second thought to it all.

When Josh got up to (awkwardly) pass the deck to Maya for her turn (the last one to go), you kept your eyes trained on Josh (who hadn’t looked at you yet). You were not going to look at Maya. You hated how you felt just as guilty as you did deserving. But the guilt was definitely crawling up your spine. He’d just had his hands down your pants with his girlfriend sitting right there. Who wouldn’t feel bad?

Looking over with worried eyes to the room’s other guests, you saw Danny and Sam simply looking at you with their mouths hung wide open in shock or amazement or both? Fuck. You must’ve given a damn show. Their eyes cleared slightly when you looked at them and their gaping mouths turned into uncomfortable laughs as they looked at each other with a little giggle and raised brows.

Before you could look to see Josh’s expression, you heard Theo clear his throat beside you. And, you suddenly remembered just how close he’d been to witness all of. . . that. And you felt more than a little rude for doing that in front of him when you’d invited him over tonight. Even if you hadn’t wanted to, you still had. You’d extended an invitation he’d been very excited about. Then, right beside Theo, you’d let another man work your body like his goddamned guitar.

Ashamed as you were, you still worked up the courage to scoot back and next to him once again. He was sitting stock still, hands clasped tightly in his lap as he stared down at them. His foot, tapping uncontrollably. You observed him for a minute, contemplating what to say (Maya, still not saying what card she’d drawn – probably waiting for Jake). Ultimately, you went with a basic apology – didn’t know what else to freaking say or do. 

“Theo,” you spoke quietly to him, placing an uneasy hand on his thigh. He flinched under your touch, but didn’t move. You stared at his profile, willing your voice to express genuinely. “I’m sorry you had to– I’m sorry that–the card. . .,” you trailed off, suddenly blanking on something to say. Fuck. 

Because, honestly, it really had been the game. Yeah, you’d both taken it too far. But it was a game, ultimately. And did Theo deserve an apology for that? Were you so much of a bitch that you were beginning to question if he deserved one? Damn. How did you say sorry for someone else’s actions and the card he’d pulled, not of his own choosing? To someone who wasn’t your boyfriend?

The actions were his choosing, an annoying voice lulled in the back of your mind. But you were the one who readily responded and fucking moaned. 

“I’m just– sorry, I guess,” you ended up saying, hand still sitting atop his thigh. Sorry you guess?! When had you become such a bitch? “Seriously,” you tried to add. “I’m sorry that the card was what it was.”

And, it worked. Because his eyes immediately found yours after the words. And, although he still looked like he’d been stung, his lips curved into a smile. 

“The card wasn’t your fault,” he said semi-easily, using a hand to brush it off. Though, he was still fidgety, moving to hold your hand in his clammy one. As much as you didn’t want to hold his hand at the moment, you let it happen. Figured it was the least you could do. Fake it till you make it. “It was just. . . a lot to see. But, things happen. It’s just a game,” he said, more to himself than to you, nodding his head in reassurance.

You did the same, a tiny smile perking your lips. He could be pretty sweet when he felt like it. You were grateful for how he was responding to it all. It helped your shoulders to release the tiniest bit of tension. . . because there was still someone in the room who’d been too quiet since the. . . occurrence. There would be no surprise if she was pissed at you (granted, she should’ve been angrier at Jake, but that wasn’t how brains worked – it was always the other person who took the heat). So, when you finally got the gall to look over, you found her staring straight ahead. Her legs, easily crossed due to no pregnant belly and arms also crossed. Her new card was sitting in front of her, face down, waiting to be read. 

She was nowhere near ready to play it, though. Not with how her freshly manicured fingers harshly lilted against her arm and how her tongue worked side to side angrily in her mouth, bouncing from one tense cheek to the other. Her perfectly full lips, pursed and freshly chapstick-ed. 

And Jake was still not out of the bathroom yet. 

Going in completely blind at what you should say, you just started speaking. Hoped something good would come out. “Um,” you began, turning the slightest bit to face her. You tucked one foot under your thigh, trying to find a good position to be comfortable and confident. She still wasn’t looking at you as you continued. “I’m– I don’t know what that looked like, but–.”

“It looked like I was about to witness that baby being made for the second time over,” she bit out, her lips still pursed tightly and her fingers squeezing tight on her biceps. Still wasn’t looking at you. 

Your teeth ground together at the way she’d referenced your baby. ‘That baby?’ The tone she’d used when she’d spoken of the tiny girl you held safely inside of you every damn day. . . Uh-uh. You were not the one. 

But, you tried, once more, to be kind. For Jake. “It wasn’t anything. Jake and I–.”

“Were ‘just friends’ who got ‘fucked up one night and had sex that resulted in a baby’?” She scoffed, flipping her hair to the side, arms crossing once more after her air quotes. She turned in her spot to look at you. 

Her eyes were fiery, but you’d beg to differ that yours carried even hotter flames. Fuck this bitch.

“Wait– Jake– Is he–?” Theo tried to question, but Maya cut him off.

Thank God, honestly. You didn’t want to explain all of it to him right now.

Maya’s eyes scrutinized you – in your home. “Yeah. . . y/n. Don’t try,” she sighed, annoyed with you. Her nose flared as her lips, fuller due to (presumably) incredible injections, puckered. “Jake already fed me that shit. But what I saw tonight? I’m taking that ‘just friends’ line as utter bullshit.”

Well. What in the hell could you say that would even remotely get her off your damn case? The entire room was dead silent. The complete silence was how you knew Jake was done in the bathroom – you’d heard him washing his hands and you heard the exact moment he walked back into the room. You could literally hear his feet padding back into the living room. It was that quiet. 

You watched him, his view downcast as he ran a hand through his hair. He flicked at his nose, smoothed his brow. And in the same few seconds, he was once again nudging his nose before quickly wiping at his left eye. He was jittery. Nervous. Upset. And he wasn’t looking anywhere near you. It made your heart break and your eyes water.

“Maya, babe. I don’t know what the fuck just happened,” he began to say, finally looking at her. He went to sit back down on the ottoman, facing her. “I don’t want you to think—.”

You decided to drive the point home yourself. “It was nothing, Maya. Jake and I. . . we were nothing,” you broke in, thankfully gaining her eyes once more. As you looked directly into her eyes, you did your damned best to not look at Jake. Didn’t know how you’d do with looking at him at the present moment.

You wanted to say your piece—have the upper hand. Before he could say anything even the slightest bit hurtful. Your heart was getting pulled side to side. It didn’t matter at this point how true what you were going to say was. 

Someone just needed to diffuse the fucking tension before it tore the entire room in half. Also, you had to fucking pee again. And you weren’t about to not have the last word. Fuck Maya. Truly. Fuck her. But you were still determined to say one more thing. For Jake — to save what he had with the stunning woman. 

You continued on, your voice surprisingly serious and indescribably stable. “It was just a stupid mistake one night that resulted in a beautiful life. Whatever the fuck just happened was for the game.” Then, you got an idea. Perfect explanation. “Jack Sparrow is a ladies man, as we all know. Jake was just playing up the part. He doesn’t actually want me like that.”

Why you cared so much to save a relationship that made you want to simultaneously punch a brick wall and lay in bed rotting all day. . . you didn’t know. You just knew it was for Jake. He was happy with her. He had been happy with her before he knew about the baby and you weren’t about to ruin that for him. You’d done enough damage.

Even if he was the one that had just done. . . that in front of everyone. The truth was: you couldn’t be together, but you ached for him. You wanted to be more. You just couldn’t be. He needed Maya’s stability. Not your irrationality and baggage. You were giving him a child. That was it. It had to be. 

“. . .And I don’t want him like that,” you stated plainly. Strong. “We share a baby. That’s it.”

And as the terrible words slipped past your lips, all you could think was no. That wasn’t fucking ‘it’. You wanted it all. And he seemed so oddly transfixed by you – was it just because of pregnancy? The fact that you were having his baby? Was it something else? You didn’t fucking know. Didn’t need to know. 

All you knew was that you cared for him so much that you had to make him think he’d meant nothing to you. He still needed to move on from the idea of you. Needed to stop the touches, the laying in bed together, the talk of jealousy. . . stolen moments in the car, in his bedroom, in the kitchen, and apparently now in front of people. 

A group of people that had included his girlfriend. Godammit, it needed to stop. You had to be the level head. Fucked up that the overly hormonal pregnant woman who cried at the drop of a hat had to do the hard work of denying it. . . But. . . Someone had to.

“She’s right, My,” Jake mumbled, trying to keep it private between the two of them. But, considering the dead silence, everyone else was privy to the words. And you were aware of the hardness in his tone, like he wasn’t sure he believed what he was saying. But, he was saying it. So he at least wanted to mean it. 

You looked down, not wanting anyone to see the tears brimming your eyes. Just in case one might fall, you wanted to immediately catch it. Tears wouldn’t do anything for you. They were just annoying – made you bare your emotions in a way you hated. 

“We were never anything. Still aren’t,” he let out a cough, breaking out into a ridiculous fit of them for a few seconds. It was enough to make your head raise with concern, watching him carefully as Maya patted at his back, trying to help him steady himself. You wanted so badly to help him. Why was he choking up?

“I believe you, babe,” she muttered as he gained a breath – finally. “It was just the character. I should’ve assumed. I know you better than to think you’d still be hung up on all of it.”

“There’s nothing to be hung up on,” he let out, coughing one last time, covering his mouth with a fist. And it was then, as he raised his head, you realized the coughing had perhaps been a cover. You’d bet money on it. His eyes were threatening to spill tears, too. They were already red-rimmed. You hadn’t even noticed. . . had he been crying in the bathroom? Over her? Over you? Both? The baby? Dammit, Jake. “Y/n and I aren’t a thing. Never have been, never will be.”

Fuck. It was a damned stab to the heart. Your skin fucking crawled at the words, throat tightening. You had to leave the room as soon as possible before you revealed your own level of emotion to everyone, just as Jake’s eyes revealed his if anyone looked close enough. Your eyes were still leaking, your fingers (surprisingly) catching every single tear that came – and there were many. But you still needed to pee and you wanted to cry where no one could see you. 

Just then, you heard Sam let out a loud honk of a laugh to your right, making your skin turn hot and you sniff the tears away the best you could to momentarily look over at him. You were grateful for the interjection as it assisted in bringing you back to the present time.

“I understand,” she laughed, playing like she hadn’t been worried for a second. So self-assured. And then, she was speaking again. To you. “Oh, and y/n.” 

Quickly, you sniffed once more and found her haughty glare. Bitch. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you only lifted your brows with a hum to show her you were listening.

“It’s really whatever. I overreacted. I need you to know. . .I know it doesn’t go past the baby for him. I was just. . . in shock,” she casually responded, her voice all Valley again. As she checked her nails, you knew she was being way too nonchalant for the way her face had transformed during the game. She was covering. Faking, and acting like a cocky bitch while she did it. “It was shocking to see, that’s for sure. Considering. . .,” she trailed off, pushing jet black hair behind her ear with one hand while the other gestured to your tummy. “Sex made baby – even if it was only one night, you guys have had sex, so. . . Just made me a bit uncomfy, hun.”

Hun. Again? Fuck off, bitch. 

Jesus. You were over plastic women for the day. And this one you couldn’t get rid of like you could the nurse. The scoff and roll of your eyes had been stark and apparent. Even if you were going to carry on with the lie that you and Jake had only had sex once (laughable), you were not okay with her speaking down to you. Fuck that shit. 

Thankfully, Danny broke in, making it a conversation rather than an awkward personal confrontation in front of a group. “The game is very sexual. . . Guess I’ve never realized,” Daniel added. He was really trying to lighten the mood you were sure he felt taking over the room. . . everyone felt it. The air was so tight it could’ve been popped with a pin. “Just makes things look like they’re not,” he assured both Maya and Theo. You didn’t miss the quick look he threw your way, his kind eyes focusing on you for a breath. Danny wasn’t stupid. He understood. But he was assisting in the little white lie to help all parties involved. Took Maya’s eyes from you, you noticed as you glanced her way. 

When you looked over at Daniel again, he was cracking a smile with his last words, “Think of it this way: that could have easily been Sam doing that shit to me.” 

“I wish!” Sam drunkenly responded, laughing so hard his already-drooping body collided with Daniel’s side, making the taller one fall slightly. Both of them were woozy – Sam much more-so, but Danny wasn’t all there anymore. Danny did the best he could to sit both of them up straight with a shake of his head and his own chuckle.

“The point of the game is literally just to embarrass each other,” Josh tried. “It’s not about sex entirely.”

“Of course it is!” Sam encouraged, using his hands to billow out around him as if he were making an imaginary rainbow. “Everything is sex and we’d be idiots to think we aren’t surrounded by the concept of sex all the fucking time. I mean, pregnancy itself is a reminder that sex is more than a social constru–.”

“Just because we’re surrounded by it–because you know I believe that shit,” Josh quickly broke in, saving the room from going down that path again. Thank you, Joshy, you sent a quiet smile his way and he just winked at you as Danny had. He continued, “It doesn’t mean we need to play games intentionally putting people in these types of scenarios.”

“Especially with couples involved, guys,” Theo added. His words made you duck your head again, squeezing your eyes shut. Did he think you were already a couple? Why did that idea make you nauseous? It made you want to hide in a fucking hole. “It’s not okay to play a game that forces couples into awkward situations. We all just want to have fun. Do something we all enjoy.”

“It was Sam’s night,” you quietly spoke up from your hunched position, leaning up a little to say more. “We played it because Sam loves it.”

“Maybe next time we choose something else,” Theo said in a belittling tone, as if explaining a foreign concept to a toddler. “Think of others,” he glanced over at Sam. 

Next time? And why the fuck did he think he had the right to talk down to Sam? He barely knew him and it was public-fucking-knowledge that he was feeling down tonight. 

“Well,” Sammy started, looking over at Theo with a raised brow and a dry smirk. “What do you propose we do for the rest of the night, new guy?”

“Mm,” your date started, tapping his chin. Then, he cheesily held a finger up, getting an idea. “Maybe a movie?”

Okay. You’d officially decided this conversation could be handled without you. So, standing shakily, you had to put a hand on the arm of the couch to balance. As you were looking down, you noticed a hand reaching out to offer stability. A familiar one. One wearing a hair-tie ring on his middle finger. 

But you ignored it, instead sniffling once more and making your way to the bathroom. With a baby pressing down on your bladder, there was rarely time for more than a couple stops. And you’d waited a damn long time to get through that confrontational-discussion-thing  already. Pee was just daring to drip down your legs and you were not about to add that to the list of shit from tonight. 

Once you were there, you wasted no time shutting and locking the door and sitting on the toilet as soon as your shorts were down. Your hands floated to your tummy as you sat there contemplating it all. There was simply too much to put into words. All you knew at this moment was that the baby girl inside of you was a little piece of joy. And before she arrived, you were going to begin trying your best to focus on positives. 

So, with one more sniffle and a blow of your nose into toilet paper, you came to the conclusion that you had to try. And a tiny good start was that someone had replaced the roll of TP with a brand new one, rather than having you have to grab for one. A positive.

Though, when you went to throw away the piece of toilet paper you’d blown your nose into, you double-glanced at what you found in the trash can. The reason you’d had a new roll of toilet paper. Because, well, the extensive amount of toilet paper in the trashcan, covered in. . . release told you exactly what the fuck Jake had done in here only minutes ago. 

And that thought alone got in the way of the joy train. Had he been thinking of you when he’d–? He had to have been, right? But then he’d come out, so ready to deny anything ever being more between the two of you. 

You did it, too, y/n, a small, soft voice reminded you at the back of your mind. Maybe he was scrambling for a lie just like you were.

You just hated the lying. The games. The touching. The wanting. The needing. The crying over it all. The thoughts prompted by his used tissues had you sitting against the bathtub before going back out. Sitting against the bathtub while sniffling again, losing more tears, and blowing your nose into a tissue one more time. 

What in the fucking hell had your life become?

-🌼🌼🌼- 

You didn’t know what the fuck you were thinking when you ended up walking Theo back to your room. Truly. The whole fake it till you make it bullshit was leading you into territory you weren’t sure you liked.

The only explanation you could conjure up was that he’d had his arm around you all night, after you’d come out of the bathroom all vulnerable. And, well, you’d done your damn best to only focus on all things Theo after the mini emo-episode in the bathroom. 

You’d had to force yourself to focus on other things. And, it seemed now you were going the extra mile to force a feeling. You had to try this. Just to see if this one last resort could take your mind off of Jake. It had been a plain impulsive act to take Theo to your bedroom and try it as soon as everyone had finally dozed off. 

And, honestly, your body had still been (obviously) thrumming with adrenaline from your challenge with Jake during that blessed game. You’d had no relief with Jake (thankfully – that would have been embarrassing as fuck). It had all ended terribly. But, all night, any time you thought of Jake’s thumb tapping and circling over your clothed clit, you’d focus on the man who had his arm around you. Just tried ridiculously hard to channel every single bit of that tense energy into imagining Theo on top of you rather than Jake. 

It was hard to do, but it was healthier that way. For all parties involved, Theo was the option that made moral sense. 

Though, at this moment, with his fingers between your legs and his lips on your neck. . . you completely regretted the idea of coming to your room. You didn’t want this with Theo – especially with Jake’s baby in your belly. The thought actually made tears spring to your eyes. (Shocking, right?)

But, you were determined to keep trying to have a nice time. You were trucking on until you could at least fake an orgasm. You knew for damn sure it wasn’t going to turn into any more than this tonight, though. 

The whole thing felt like a scam to you. You felt like your body was a hollow shell around you, the only thing keeping you grounded was the baby you shared with another man. A man who was polar opposite than the one currently fingering you. Once the orgasm had been faked, you knew you’d be ready to fall asleep. You were carrying a human life, after all. And your effort to keep up an act had you fading fast anyhow. 

You also really hated the fact that you were stark naked. Theo seeing you this way didn’t get you all hot and bothered. Made you feel pretty gross, honestly. But he’d been very keen on stripping you of all your clothes as soon as your door had latched closed behind him. At the same moment, you’d still been excited – leaping towards him for an open-mouthed kiss (you’d been really desperate for this little experiment to work). 

It hadn’t taken long to figure out the biggest reason why he’d wanted your clothes off. Not with the way his hands had immediately found your engorged breasts. . . . You couldn’t blame him – the big boobs that accompanied your pregnant body were pretty easy to look at. 

He’d paused at the small heart monitor piece on your chest. But you’d just given him a shrug and said, without a shred of patience for his hesitance, “I’m tracking my heart right now. Take me or leave me.”

You didn’t care enough about him to care what he thought. And you didn’t want his hands on you if he was going to be weird about it. But, he’d just shook his head in return, not saying anything before pulling you closer. At first, Theo’s hands holding your ever-aching boobs felt okay – a little better than okay, actually. Even if they hadn’t felt like what you needed, they’d done the trick for a small while. 

But at this point? It had been a long, grueling twenty minutes of him holding them. Fondling them. Non-stop. One hand bounced back and forth between your boobs, while the other worked real hard to get you off with alternating pointer and middle fingers. Right off the bat, you’d had to stop him from playing with your nipples – it didn’t feel right at all for him to do that. But you’d let him play with the rest. 

Goodness gracious – you couldn’t help but wince with one particular twist of the football player’s meaty finger. His fingers were really thick. . . like, uncomfortably thick. They were on hands that truly belonged to a college athlete. 

Your specific preference was a guitar player’s fingers. . . . They just felt nice. There was no comparison to the way those purposeful, calloused fingers made you feel. . . they were a stark contrast to the way these sausage fingers had you clawing at your bedsheets for some sort of relief. You wanted to enjoy this. . . So badly, you wanted to enjoy this. This needed to work so it could be a distraction from your baby daddy. 

But God – the feeling of his one, too-big finger was absolutely grating. . . He kept spitting on your folds, trying to keep you wet. But everything he tried was to no avail. He hadn’t tried well at all to get your body to open up for him. So, at this point, your body continued to jostle, dry and sore, with his eager motions. He was very big and muscular, which made him handle you like a bit of a rag doll. (That had been the only hope of turning you on in all of this.) 

“Oh, yes, Theo,” you exaggeratedly sighed as he continued to pump his finger, running your hands down your cool sheets. Everyone was asleep, it didn’t matter how loud you were – and you needed to sell it.

You had to admit that at the moment, you were working on getting nominated for a damn Oscar with your sounds and facial expressions. Despite his terrible talent in bed, you were doing a really incredible job at convincing him you felt good. You even threw in a little sigh and moan every now and then. 

If you were him, you were sure you’d be convinced that you were doing a damn good job. 

“Yes,” you encouraged half-heartedly, sleepy and anxious to be done. “Just like that. Juuust like that.”

At your words of affirmation, he went a little harder. The tips of his fingers kept connecting with your cervix in a most uncomfortable way. It was making your stomach twist in pain and your eyebrows furrow with discomfort. Yeah, you were not going to fake it through that. You couldn’t.

“That-that hurts,” you mumbled, gripping his thick blonde hair. 

When you said that, he slowed to a much more acceptable pace and gave your cheek a little peck. Afterwards, going back to kissing and breathing way too hotly on your neck. Your neck that was barely sweaty, not being worked up in the slightest anymore. As he continued his little rotation of terrible patterns, you continued to hold onto his head. It added to the effect. 

You kept him close, but all you truly wanted to grab onto were long, wavy locks of chestnut brown hair. The ends of Jake’s  long hair would have surely clung to his tanned, broad shoulders – sweaty from exertion. 

Theo’s hair was still perfectly styled, his scalp not sweaty from hard work in the slightest. He wasn’t doing nearly enough – he was just pushing really hard and twisting in the wrong ways. He also kept trying to add another finger that just did not belong inside of you. It was like your body kept closing up every time he tried. 

Good looking out, body, you thought with a cringe as he tried yet again. 

“Just one finger,” you tugged on his hair. His hair, shorter than Jake’s and not quite as full as Jake’s either. 

God, why did you keep thinking of Jake?! Correct, this wasn’t enjoyable at all, but it didn’t mean you needed to be wistfully thinking of Jake at the same time. Jake and Theo were two completely separate people. Totally different in more ways than you could count. 

Their talents in bed are definitely different, your subconscious picked. We know who does a better job at this for sure.

You could have flicked the little devil in your head to the side, but the voice did have a point. What you were experiencing right now was nothing compared to the miraculous shit that had gotten you into your life-bearing predicament in the first place. That otherworldly sex was undoubtedly leaps and bounds beyond whatever Theo thought he was doing for you. 

Speaking of which, he was making his way back down your body. Now, facing your pussy. Most probably about to spit on it again. You kept a hand laced in his hair as you continued to fake breathy moans, even going so far as to groan his name. 

“You almost to the finish line?” He grunted the words from where he’d positioned himself at your raw, sahara-dry center. “Seems like you take a while to get there, babe. ‘S a lotta work for one guy. Almost done?”

‘A lotta work’? ‘Almost done’?! The ‘finish line’?!

What the fuck kind of conversation was this to be having? And why was he saying it like he was just shooting the breeze? Your legs were wide open, pussy fully exposed in front of his face. And he was complaining. Also. . . ‘babe’?! What the fuck.

This fake orgasm needed to happen soon. You were so done with whatever was happening between your legs. Without caring to respond, within seconds, you started amping it up. Your first act was grasping the sheets below your hands tighter. Your toes curled against the sheets as you brought your legs closer together. Your head, thrown back as you moaned louder than before, breathily exclaiming his name in tandem with the pace of his fingers.

You worked to clench your core around his fingers, continuing your praise of him with scattered, urgent ‘yes, yes, yeses.’ 

And, as soon as you sighed with finality and let your body relax, he removed his fingers. The minute he did that, you were ready to grab a giant t-shirt from your dresser and some underwear. You needed to go pee first. But as soon as you could, you were going to come back to bed and let sleep find you. He would just have to understand.

“I have to pee,” you said, moving as quickly as you could to the edge of the bed. 

Thankfully, the bulky man had enough sense to move out of your way, flipping onto his back on the opposite side of the bed. And, when you made it to your dresser to put clothes on, you did not like what you saw in the mirror to your dresser. Theo, with a too-proud smirk on his face as he watched you from his spot in bed. 

Ugh. No. You did not want that. You wanted Jake in that spot, like he’d been before. Jake, lying there naked under your covers – the most beautiful reflection for your mirror. Your stomach tangled at how Jake had eyefucked you that morning, as you’d attempted to put on clothes. 

You’d just found a pair of black panties, slipping them on hastily before yanking on a pair of pajama shorts that had been laying on the ground. Your hair was next, getting tied up into a quick ponytail. Then, you’d made the mistake of looking in the mirror. The bed was perfectly placed in the mirror’s path, and the sight from the bed had made your breath catch in your throat.  

Jake, in your bed, his long hair, still messy from sleep and sex. . . his deeply set, tired eyes. . . tanned skin, the perfect shade of brown after hours spent in the summer sun. The sight that had reflected back at you made your heart race. You’d caught your breath, taking in a sharp breath. One elbow, holding him up, while the other worked under the sheets. . . his eyes, lust-filled and appreciating your exposed thighs. 

Quickly, you’d abandoned your hair, deciding to not ignore the need that thrummed between your thighs, making your heart beat wildly in your chest. With him laying there looking like that, how could you refuse? His defined pecs and tight biceps had flexed with each pump of his fist. His dick, disappointingly hidden by the covers. 

In the blink of an eye, you’d been on top of him, as he’d deliciously stretched you, opening you up for him.

Fuck it all. You could’ve slapped a hand to your forehead. Your life was a damn joke. In the present time, you averted your eyes from the mirror, not wanting the image of Theo, in the same spot as Jake, in your mind. 

When you got your underwear up your legs, you decided shorts were a good idea. Didn’t want him looking at your body anymore. Then came the giant t-shirt. Hide hide hide.

You heard a groan of upset from your bed, but he was smart to not say anything. If he opened his mouth right now, you didn’t know what you would say. Because, well, you were pissed at life. This was not the reality you wanted, but it was what you’d been so graciously gifted. 

You chose this, y/n, your voice of sense reminded you. You brought this on yourself.

Seriously. Your life was one giant laughing stock.

The tears that sprung to your eyes were definitely expected with the night and the hormones. But, you really weren’t so sure anymore that all of the tears could be blamed on the hormones. Even if you didn’t have the hormonal parade inside of you, you were pretty sure you’d be just as sad. Just as angry. Equal parts angry and sad. All of it was enough to make any ‘normal’ girl cry. 

You made sure your back was to Theo and face out of the mirror when you let the first teardrop fall. There weren’t many of them, but a few easily slid down your cheeks as you went to open your bedroom door. But, hand on the knob, you hastily wiped at your face with your free hand. You didn’t want anyone seeing you like this. Especially one person. . . the last thing you wanted was Jake’s pity. Granted, Jake was probably asleep, Maya most likely wrapped in his arms.

Today had started off so well with him. . . but the way you’d ended it? Stupid stupid stupid. 

Before you left your room, your stomach dropped. What you’d just done. . . it just made you feel icky. Bad. Disgusting. Like a damned fraud. You honestly detested that you’d done it. To your utter dismay, you knew it was safe to say this little experiment of yours was already blowing up in your face. There was no convincing yourself that Theodore was who you wanted. Not at-fucking-all.

Not when Jake Kiszka existed.

“Hey, y/n,” Theo called to you from the bed, louder than you wanted him. 

You turned around to him, eyes big with a finger pressed to your lips. “What?” You whisper-spoke back. “Be quiet.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head with his brows furrowed, sitting up a bit better, balancing on his elbows. You noticed when he’d shaken his head, his hair stayed in one place due to being a shorter length. Disappointing. “Um. . . tonight. Maya said. Um,” he trailed off, trying to subtly flex his too-big arms. You were proud of yourself that you hadn’t rolled your eyes at him yet. “Is Jake. . . is he. . .? The baby’s–?”

There was no point in hiding it anymore. You shouldn’t have in the first place anyway. That’d been childish and ridiculous. “Yes,” you shortly responded in a whisper, twisting the knob to your door. “The baby is Jake’s, yes.”                                                                                                                      

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Jake’s POV 

The moment I woke up from the fitful nap I’d fallen into, my neck hurt like hell from leaning wrong and all I knew was. . . I had to fucking piss.

There was no way I wasn’t going to pee down my leg if I didn’t get to the bathroom. 

The only problem was: Maya was sprawled out on me. Her breasts, pressed against my chest and one leg draped across my hip while the other laid on the other side of my opposite leg. She even had an arm wrapped around my torso, making it that much more difficult to move quickly. I looked around the dark living room for the one person I cared to check on first thing. It was hard to adjust my eyes, the room lit only by the menu screen from the movie we’d been watching. 

Shrek. A childhood favorite to get Sam’s spirits up. Every single person in the apartment had surely seen the movie dozens of times, so we’d all passed out rather quickly. 

But, as I scanned the room for y/n, I noticed she was absolutely nowhere to be found. And neither was her new–. 

“Oh, yes, Theo.”

What the fuck?

“Just like that. Juuust like that.”

Fuck me. What in the hell had I done to deserve hearing this?!

Well, for one, the angel on my shoulder chimed in. Forcing her to hear you with your girlfriend wasn’t the most fair thing you could’ve done. . . It was only in due time that she’d be—.

“Just one finger.” Y/n. Again. Moaning through the walls. And now I knew enough to know exactly what the prick was probably doing. 

What he was doing to the woman who who was carrying my child. His hands were on her, in her. . . He was doing things to her perfectly growing body while I was out here. Having to listen.

Now you know how she felt, the angel (who was sounding more like a devil) continued. Doesn’t feel great, huh?

The little, reasonable voice didn’t reassure me whatsoever. It just made me feel so fucking foolish and utterly disgusted at what was going on behind her door. It was my damn fault. I knew it was. And the moans and cries from y/n’s bedroom. . . Those sounds had me wanting to take back every single action I’d committed to lose her any more than I already had that day in the kitchen. Fuck.

The need to pee had vanished. Now all I felt at the current moment was anger. Spitting anger. The desire to punch a my fist hard against a fuckin’ smug-ass blonde athlete. 

Then it was another voice. It was hard to make out what he was saying, but the quietness of the apartment helped me to hear a bit of it. “. . .take a while to get there, babe. . . lotta work for one guy. Almost done?”

Babe?! And a while to get where? If he was talking about her sweet pussy— he was a goddamn moron. It never took her that long with me. And if it did by chance, I thanked God I got to worship her for just a while longer. Got to discover more ways to please her.

She was so ethereal and goddess-like. . . It was the best game—figuring out how to get her to the edge. It was the pinnacle of sexual endeavors. And he was asking if she was almost done?! God. My blood was fuckin’ boiling. As if I needed any more confirmation, I officially knew the guy was a fuck-ass idiot. 

I shifted my weight completely away from Maya, brushing an angry hand through my ever-growing hair. Needed it away from my face, which just kept getting hotter by the second. My body felt like it was on fire. My pulse was electric under my skin.

As I moved even closer to the edge of the chair, Maya snuggled up against the arm rest I was getting away from. She seemed fine. She’d be fine. But what the fuck was I even moving to do? I didn’t really have to piss that bad anymore, but I had to do something. Guess I’d fucking try to go anyway. Something to get my mind off of what was going on in y/n’s bed. Fuck that shit. Seriously.

All I could think about was her soft body falling apart at the hands of this dimwit of an asshole. Her tits, full of milk for my baby, in another man’s hands. Her belly, my baby girl, in the middle of whatever the fuck was happening. 

I couldn’t help the fire that once simmered, now burning in my chest at the thought of it all. Before heading to the bathroom, I decided on a whim to check on the lavender. One more thing to focus on. A seemingly happy thing. 

Sam had requested the twinkle lights in the living room be on for the movie, so they were an aid in seeing the plant once I got to the kitchen. There was just enough of the yellow light flooding in from the living room to the kitchen.

I’d put it back in the original terracotta, not knowing a better solution than that one. We’d kept it under the sink the same day we’d bought the white vase. And for some strange reason, seeing it in the original pot I’d given her just made my heart twist in my chest. I longed for y/n daily. Day in, day out, she was the woman I awoke and fell asleep thinking about. So badly it hurt, I felt this pulling desire for her. Before knowing about the baby, but especially now that I knew about the baby. 

What sucked, though, was I still hadn’t the faintest clue where I stood. Where she stood with me. It was all such a convoluted fucking mess. It didn’t matter what kept happening, I was so confused. I couldn’t keep up.

And so much had changed since the day so long ago when I’d given her the lavender. For one, I just kept falling for her. More and more by the day. I’d now experienced things with her that I couldn’t have dreamed of back then. 

She was my muse–the hope that had shone when I’d felt hopeless. She was the woman whose body I wanted to watch rise and fall – whether it be above me, on top of me, below me, how-fucking-ever she wanted – every single day for the rest of my life. Her body was the only temple I wished to enter endlessly. Over and over again. 

And, of course, she was the mother of my child. . . She held the light to my world in her soul and in her belly, now. And the lavender I stood before, it resembled the beginning of us for me. . . The beginning of a chapter in my life that I had to close much too soon. A chapter I never wanted to close.

After making sure the plant was thriving, I decided it was due time for me to try peeing. Getting up had kind of helped the urge to come back anyway, so. The one part I was dreading most was walking past y/n’s room to get to the bathroom. What the fuck would I hear this time? Being so close? I was about to swear to every ‘Higher Being’ – if I had to hear the bed springs squeak as I passed, I’d erupt.  

. . .Right before I could begin my begging, though, her door opened. Right as I was coming up to it to cross to the bathroom, it wedged open a bit. Just enough for y/n to slip out without her belly grazing the doorjamb, her eyes down and avoiding any sort of contact with anyone. 

I was far enough back that she was able to come out undisturbed. But as soon as she stepped fully out, she was only inches away from me and staring at my chest. Almost instantly, her eyes fluttered up to look at me. It was as if she’d been caught. 

The twinkling lights from the living room were a god-send right now as my eyes pored over her angelic face. Her eyes glowed magnificently under the splash of light from the living room into the hallway.

Though, even with the warmth in my chest at seeing her pretty face under the lights, my heart sank. Her hair was a mess, she was adjusting the big t-shirt over her body, still pulling at the collar. She’d just put on clothes. I knew my face said I was stonewalled. My jaw was tight, clenching as I let my eyes scan her exquisite, gentle features. Her plush lips, slightly agape. And her jewel-like eyes, wide and wondrous. Her long lashes fluttered, enticing me.

At the moment, all I wanted to do was read her. But, I was too concentrated on doing everything in my power to not look pissed off. It wasn’t even that I was pissed off — well, yeah. I was. Definitely. I was livid. But not at her. I didn’t want her to think I was mad at her. 

No, all I really felt was this hole in my chest screaming over conflicted emotions. I knew what I wanted — who I wanted. But we’d both fucked up our chance with the other and now we were having to hide anything we did. The sad truth was, we’d actually always hidden it. I never got to show how deeply I felt for her out in the open. 

Though for her and Theo, she could walk out of her bedroom with her hair a mess and no one would ask any questions. Even though everyone now knew that it was my baby inside of her.

What was my fucking luck in that? Had it been for our good to not work out? Were we only meant to be co-parents?  And if so, why did we keep ending up in compromising situations? 

Her wet tits in my hands in the kitchen. My instincts, going into overdrive at the thought of her hurting herself on the water and glass. The way she’d hardly seemed to think about it when she’d leaned over the console to wrap her pretty mouth around my throbbing, hot dick. 

Then there was every time I’d ended up with her in my arms, my mouth on her skin. Her eyes always seemed to observe me, wide and curious eyes, always seeming so deep in thought. She’d chosen me to take her to therapy. The care she had about hearing Maya and me fuck — obviously more than platonic annoyance. Right?

Or was I imagining that part? Did she truly only want me as a friend? Was she only acting on her desires because she was pregnant and horny? 

It was when I finally let myself get out of my own head that I realized her magnificent eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Fuck. Was she okay? Had he hurt her? Was it what had happened during the game? What was going through her mind? How was she feeling at this very second?

“Why are you awake?” Y/n whispered towards me, voice wet and bringing me out of my swirling thoughts. 

I ignored her question, instead asking her my own. “Are you okay?” I softly responded, letting my face relax just enough to let her know I was worried about her. “Why does it look like you need to cry? Did he hurt–?”

“No,” she quickly shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself, right under her chest. Her nipples were hard. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Obviously. But the thought of him touching–. No. Focus, Jake. “He didn’t do anything wrong to me. I’m just–. I just. . .,” she shook her head. Her eyes were suddenly downcast. They stayed that way for a while, her gaze glued to our feet. 

It was like she was questioning every possible descriptive word to give me an inside look to her soul. So, rather than making her feel as though she had to tell me anything, I decided to carefully lift her chin with the lightest touch of two fingers underneath. And what I saw when her eyes connected with mine made my heart tear in half. 

Her cheeks, flushed with emotion and her eyes still shimmering with the same sort of longing I felt when I stared at the lavender in its original pot. How I’d felt tonight with her quivering under my hand. I’d felt that. Felt her harden for me, desperate to fall apart. It had turned me on at first, but then – it had just made me feel. . . Melancholy. 

She showed the exact same now in her eyes, the dimples at the tops of her cheeks coming out as her lip shook. A shadow of the past washed over her soft features as a few more tears traveled down her even softer cheeks. I didn’t hesitate to reach a hand up, using my thumb to stop the tracks at the apple of her left cheek, right below a dimple. 

She sniffled once, her body relaxing at my touch. Her wide eyes stayed connected with mine, her brows matching the crinkle in mine as she concentrated on me, just as I did her. I realized just how tense her shoulders had been as they relaxed with a calming breath pushing past her pretty lips. 

There was a flash of something behind her eyes, but she looked away again before I could analyze it. So, rather than standing around in her space any longer, I decided to go to the bathroom before I overstepped or bothered her any further.

But I couldn’t take more than two steps to walk away before she launched herself at me. Her arms wrapped comfortably and surely around my waist, tucking under my arms and palms resting between my shoulder blades. The way her head nestled against my exposed chest was almost too much to bear. Almost.

She’d done her best to bring herself as close to me as she possibly could. Her belly, the baby, was nestled so securely between us. Right where she belonged – not anywhere near the dickhead in her bedroom. 

The way she let her head rest against my chest was like a puzzle piece clicking into place. And it felt even better when I brought one hand up to cradle the back of her head, a few more of her tears dampening my skin and the fabric of my shirt. I let my fingers slip through the strands of her hair as my other hand massaged her scalp. Her hair was like silk between my fingers.

The way I felt her breathing even out beneath my touch and against my body made my heart skip a beat and pick back up to a pace that felt like coming home. 

But too soon, she was pulling away from me and shaking her head like she wasn’t sure about what she’d just done. I could see the wheels turning, her eyebrows creased tightly before her hands came to her face and furiously wiped at any leftover tears. Thankfully, she didn’t waste time looking at me again. I assumed my expression matched hers pretty well – conviction glazing over our eyes. I felt it at the feeling of being so close and how it felt so fucking right. It felt more right than wrong and that was scary as fuck. 

I was in a relationship with someone else and I couldn’t even bring myself to care. And the bullshit I’d fed Maya tonight? Did I believe that? Did y/n believe what she’d said? So, I locked eyes with her, pleading for her to hear my heart wrenching thoughts. To answer my questions for me. My chest felt like it had completely caved in on itself with how I felt at this moment.

I want us to work this out. Please, I searched her eyes, wishing she could understand. The way her eyes brightened a bit gave me hope that she understood to an extent. Please – somehow, some way. I need more with you again. I don’t give two fucks that my girlfriend is sleeping in the other room – she isn’t you. 

But she didn’t respond to it with anything other than a shake of her head, her fingers smoothing each of her eyebrows, one at a time. Her arms were getting tucked under her tits again, crossing tightly there. I tried not to stare. I knew she was trying to center herself and she needed the moment without me fucking gawking at her to do so.

God – it would make things so much easier if I could just open up my head and heart and let her look inside. Because, unfortunately, I didn’t know how to say the shit that had me all fucked up. But now wasn’t the time anyway. Since, yes, my girlfriend was sleeping in the next room over and her boyfriend thing was behind the door we were standing in front of.

“Why are you awake, Jake?” She tried her earlier question again just as quiet but the slightest bit clearer. But my mind was in a daze, just watching her lips move. Admiring the gentleness of her breaths, rising her chest. I definitely didn’t answer right away, which had her clearing her throat. 

When I blinked a few times, I let my eyes refocus on the here and now. “I had to pee,” you whispered back, words plain and void of any heavy elements of emotion. I didn’t want to get in my head and stick my foot in my damn mouth. 

I kept doing that, it seemed. I just kept fucking things up. And not just with words – going beyond words with foolish actions. So many actions. Actions I didn’t regret nearly as much as I should have.

“Oh,” was all she pushed through her lips, barely a breath of the word. She’d started nervously rubbing her bicep, eyes going down to look at my chest and abdomen before trailing right back up to my face. 

“What are you doing awake?” My eyes evaluated her figure, sensual in every way – she didn’t have to try. Her body was perfect in every way and I’d appreciate it while playing dumb to her goings-on. I didn’t want her to know that I’d heard any of it – the reason she was awake. Not yet anyway. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped at me in her little hushed tone. The way she’d bit it out, it was as if she was scolding me. No way. She didn’t get to do that when I caught her every fucking day staring at my body the exact same way. Not when she’d called me motherfucking Captain earlier in the evening, practically begging me with her eyes and spreading her legs for me in front of God and everybody. 

My line of sight instantly found hers again, one brow raising at her and a small smirk on my lips to try her. “What’s wrong with me looking at you?”

“I don’t want you to,” she said, all too quickly. 

“Hm,” I hummed, scanning her face for any sign of hesitancy. It was painted all over her features – she didn’t believe what she was saying either. I could especially tell by the way her eyes followed mine and how she bit her lip. She wasn’t anywhere near angry – at least not with me anyway. She was simply conflicted. 

Join the club, baby. 

“Don’t test me, Jacob,” she cautioned, her arms increasing their pressure under her breasts. 

So, I did. Test her.

I let my eyes immediately go to where she’d applied pressure, her tits accentuated with the way her arms pushed them up. Even with the big t-shirt on, I could see as her nipples hardened under my stare. The thought couldn’t even cross my mind to try to prove her right as I saw it happen. My mouth was too busy watering, my dick starting to twitch in my pants. Her chest was rising and falling at such a rapid rate, I just wanted to know so badly what it would look like to see her chest without the hindrance of clothing. I could only imagine what her tits looked like now. 

Fuck. I bit my lip and tucked my hands in my front pockets to stretch the front of my jeans enough to distract from what I felt happening in them. The second time she’d gotten me like this in one evening. The poor toilet paper, half of a roll completely used, having to catch all of my desperate release. My stupid fucking tears as I did my best to aim into the tissue, with a whisper of her name on my lips. As she’d sat in the living room, having to explain my thoughtless actions. 

Had they been thoughtless, though? Or had it been a sort of plan to force Maya to see something she needed to see? If that were the case, I’d let that plan crash and burn to the ground. But it was hard to consider the actions thoughtless. Not with how her body had called out to me, the game card working in our favor – allowing me to show the world how well we matched. How her body moved in perfect time with my hands. Trembling underneath me, right out in the open.

Oh, her body. I bit my lip as my eyes trailed down to her thighs. Her hips, where I’d had my hands placed purposefully as long as I could. Wanted to hold her so tightly by the hips, her belly situated so wonderfully for my thumbs to trace it while holding her. Then, my sights landed on the gentle way her toes wiggled against the carpet. And, slowly, I worked my way back. Over her thighs, hips, and to her belly. 

The thought of her voluptuous, pregnant body lived comfortably in my dreams. But I wanted to see it in person – actually see what she looked like underneath her clothes – wanted to fucking study her beautifully stretching skin. Wanted her completely bare for me and my eyes only. Her body was getting fuller in ways my brain couldn’t keep up with. It was fuckin’ heaven to watch her grow – her tits, ass, thighs. . . that precious belly that held my baby.

I let my eyes trail back up to her chest. Still rising and falling so steadily – like I’d seen so many times before when she’d lay naked under me, panting just as hard as her with my release trickling down her belly, between her breasts, anywhere I could get in time. It was truly ironic how hard we’d tried to be safe. Kind of funny, actually.

Now wasn’t the time for humor though. Not with how badly I needed to touch her naked body again. Even to only see it again would satisfy my raging, tempting curiosity. I wanted to see her new body naked – pregnant and growing everyday with my baby.

Quickly, my half-hard dick was no longer a worry as I remembered just who got a bare look at her before me. And that got the fuck under my skin so quickly, that I glanced back up soon enough to catch her biting her lip and keeping track of my gaze with a hazy one of her own. And when she realized I’d caught her, her mouth was falling open and closing just as quick. She licked her pink lips once, at a loss.

Neither of us said anything for a long, tense moment. I let my head fall as I tried to not think about what had transpired in her bedroom. Not when I’d just had her to myself tonight. I didn’t know the details of what she’d done with him and every single second I kept imagining it in ways I did not fucking want to. The hand I let rub over my face was in an effort to fix my expression. 

Get out of your damn head, Jake, I coached myself, mentally slapping the sides of my head to clear it. You’ve done the same fucking shit to her, asshole. Made her listen. It was past time you had a taste of it.

That was enough to snap me back to reality. My thoughts landed on the golden woman standing in front of me who I continued to get heated with for things she was doing – people she was seeing. A bunch of shit that I was holding over her that I’d done plenty of times before. It was not my place. Right? 

The only thing that I was hung up on was that she was the one with the baby inside of her. I felt this intense, almost carnal protection over our little girl in her womb. Did I get a say in what y/n exposed her to? Was that my right? Damn. . . shit was maddening as hell.

“Well,” she said, her voice raspy before she cleared her throat just as she had earlier. I adjusted my sights on her again, opening my eyes to find her biting her kissable lips. Once again, there was something behind her eyes. Her eyes, bright and wide and waiting for me to come back to the present. My head was cleared instantly of all conflict now that I held her eyes. “I’ll let you go to–.”

“Stay with me,” the words fell past my lips without any thought. 

“Um,” her brow raised, a slight cough escaping her. The hint of a grin came to rest on her features. “While you go. . . pee?”

What was I implying? Was I telling her I wanted her to go with me while I peed? What the–?

Wouldn’t be the first time, my thoughts jested at me. The idea of the past made a small grin land on my lips. Strange request, but it had already happened before – peeing in the bathroom back to back, sharing our morning routine. Was it okay to do that now though?

Fuck it. Did I even care if it was okay? 

“Like you haven’t seen me pee before?” I replied, the hint of a laugh on my lips as my smile widened. My head was clearing. I’d be fine. Just had to concentrate on the here and now. On her. Right in front of me. 

Her expression was past the point of staying stony, her lips stretched to show a wide smile now. But she did seem to contemplate it for a minute. So, I rushed to retract what I’d said. “You don’t have to if it’s weird since we’re–.”

“Sure,” she responded, voice still a whisper to match mine. “I need to go too, anyway, so.”

“Do you want me to wait outside while you pee?”

“Why would you do that?”

Her question shocked me. She was alright with me being with her while she pissed? That seemed all the more significant than her being with me while I did it. And how in the fuck had this all started with me needing to pee? And now it was turning into a sort of group pissing session with y/n? The ludicrous nature of it all was enough to make my teeth show with a quiet laugh. 

“I want to respect your priv–.”

“If you’re okay with me being with you while you pee, I’m fine with you being with me,” she reasoned, her hand coming out to graze my arm for a second. Too short of a moment for me to make anything of it. She was simply being a friend. I liked it. Even though I wanted more, I liked it. Being her friend was an incredible gift on its own. It just sort of hurt to think of–.

No, Jake. Not now, a voice corrected me, sounding like Josh. This happened from time to time, my inner voice chiding me while sounding just like his voice. The fucker’s advising voice lived rent free in my head. Just go fucking pee.

I motioned for her to lead the way, but she motioned for me to do it at the same time. And when she refused to move, I knew she wouldn’t start walking until I did. Stubbornness was one of her defining traits and I was used to it. Something that pissed me off, but also made her who she was and I loved who she was. 

She quietly followed me to the bathroom, her soft steps padding behind me in a way that made my heart feel whole. 

As soon as we made it to the bathroom, I made sure she knew she had to enter first. Holding the door open for her, my feet planted on the ground as I motioned for her to go inside. Surprisingly, she didn’t hesitate. Instead, she was rushing in, forcing me to follow her lead and remember she was pregnant and needing to pee wasn’t a joke. 

I shut the door, and as soon as I did, she was pulling down her pants. Hastily, I decided that I wasn’t going to watch her pee, trying to respect her privacy at least a little bit. When I heard her start to go with a heavy sigh, a relieved grin reached my mouth. Although, until that moment, I hadn’t realized I was feeling the urgency with her enough to feel relieved for her–with her. 

The way she gently sighed though – it brought on some serious guilt. Because, yes, she was pregnant and had come out of her bedroom to pee. I shouldn’t have let her lag in the hallway. Even though I didn’t like it, I knew she’d been doing shit with Theo. And peeing after sex was already necessary, and on top of being pregnant? 

“I’m really fucking sorry I made you wait,” I said, a touch louder than the hallway since we were now behind a door. 

She huffed a little giggle, the melodic sound leaving her lips at the same time I heard the toilet flush. “I’m the one who forced you to tell me why you were awake. It’s my fault,” she excused, the sink already turning on behind me to tell me she was washing her hands. Once more, I heard a little giggle escape her. “My pants are up now. You’re in the clear.”

I turned around, only to find myself staring in the mirror and her staring straight at me. She was smiling so wide it made my insides feel weak. 

My own lips stretched to share a laugh with her. “I didn’t want to disrespect you by watching you take a piss.”

“Jake. Be so serious,” she smirked, the sink flicking off before she gently towel dried her hands. 

“I am being serious!” I clarified, half smile still resting on my lips. 

She only shook her head, still grinning. I pushed my hair back over my forehead before I lifted the toilet seat. And without even thinking about it, I started unzipping my pants. The action made her turn around herself, her cheeks pink before she was facing the same wall I had been looking at only a minute before. Her shoulders were shaking a little with her fit of giggles before I turned to pull my pants down enough and focus on my aim. 

As much as I wanted to stare at her ass, making a mess while taking a fuckin’ piss would be embarrassing as hell. 

I couldn’t think of much more than how good it felt to pee as soon as it was happening. The need apparently hadn’t gone away once, contrary to my belief, because my bladder was definitely less tight as I flushed the toilet myself. But whatever the fuck I’d woken up hearing was enough to apparently make the urge disappear, while still definitely being there. 

Stupid ass life. My life as a whole had honestly become a comedy club. Whatever. It didn’t matter. 

“You can turn around,” I repeated her words, trying my best to not think of her naked and underneath him as I closed the seat and tucked myself into my pants. 

Fuck – the sounds had conjured up this image that wouldn’t leave my brain. His hands on her belly. The same image I’d had before of them spread across the island. But this time, it was in her bedroom. And it was based on reality. Something I’d actually heard. I wanted to openly retch at the idea of him holding onto her full tits which I knew were sore as hell, due to what they were growing to provide. I’d done so much fucking reading on all of it – I didn’t need her to tell me for me to know. But the night in the kitchen. . . how she’d been so relieved for me to touch them. Had it been like that with him? Her body relaxing with contented sighs at him holding her heavy breasts?

I grit my teeth and washed my hands quickly, suddenly needing to get out of the tight space of the bathroom. All I wanted to do was sit her on top of it and pull her panties down. And as much as I could convince myself not to, I was going to regret if I did it and regret if I didn’t do it. The inside of my head was a fuckin’ storm. I just wanted to sleep. 

But. . . if I went to my room, it meant she’d go back to him. Was that truly what I wanted? No. It was-fucking-not what I wanted.

It doesn’t matter, that Josh-like voice started again. You don’t get to choose what she does. You’ve told her yourself that it doesn’t work like that. Suck it up, Jacob.

Looking up from how I was furiously washing my hands, I saw her watching me from behind. She was surveying me, thinking deeply. I could tell by the way she was chewing the inside of her lip. Something I don’t think she even knew she did. But I knew. I noticed every tiny thing she did. Every fidget.

“You washing your face?” I asked, briefly glancing down to turn off the water and dry my hands. I was trying to let common sense take over and train my mind back to sane places. 

When I swiveled on a foot to face her once more, her eyes were back to being a bit more hollow. The swirling studious reflection in her eyes from before had washed away. She was centered. She was able to tame her thoughts while I was failing miserably at it. 

“Not tonight,” she shook her head. And then she was chewing the inside of her cheek once again. “I’m tired. Long day.”

“Yeah,” I nodded slowly, a smile unable to stay off my features as I thought back to the appointment. It had been the best part of my day next to having y/n falling apart at my barely-there touches during a motherfucking game.

I’d experienced heaven at that doctor’s office. Watching our baby girl, learning her already. I had a name for her stowed away already. I’d traced it on y/n’s belly in the kitchen earlier in the evening, but I was waiting to see if she had any ideas of her own before I launched mine. Didn’t want to cloud her thought process with my own. I needed to give her space and that was one small way I could. 

“Well, let’s go to bed, then,” I said, voice hushing once more. Even with a somber feeling fogging up my brain, I still managed to smile enough for it to reach my eyes. For the precious woman in front of me that was selflessly carrying our child. “You lead the way this time.”

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Theo had been waiting for you at the bedroom door. Leaning against the doorframe like a fucking impatient child – or a mother worried sick about her child. It had been horrendous timing. Jake had almost made it to the bedroom door to drop you off. 

You hadn’t even realized Theo was leaning against the doorframe until he was clearing his throat before you. 

You’d been too consumed in Jake to notice. Consumed truly being the only word you could think of to describe the feeling. The walk back to your room had been so wonderful. You’d shared the smallest, quietest laughs about nothing and it had been bliss. He’d kept in perfect time as you walked beside each other. Your hands had grazed a couple of times, shoulders bumping maybe too frequently. The butterflies had been going ballistic in your tummy.

But, when the motherfucker had given that little cough to alert you of his presence, you’d both looked up from the other to see him. He’d been standing there, so self righteous. You’d felt Jake’s body tense beside you – didn’t need to be touching him to know he was fuming over the interruption.

“Wondering where you went,” the blonde had started, his eyebrow raising as if he were teasing you. “Missed you.”

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into? Dammit. You hated the way he was talking to you and you’d hated even more the way his stupidly thick fingers had felt inside of you. 

Quite frankly, you didn’t want to respond, but you knew he wouldn’t go back in your room until you did. “Just had to pee. Told you that,” you answered semi-honestly. “Ran into Jake in the hallway. We were talking about apartment things.” A lie. Didn’t need him knowing what you were talking about. And you weren’t about to tell him you missed him back – you hadn’t missed him. Honestly, you’d kind of forgotten that he’d been waiting for you. 

Your voice was louder than it should have been with the living room full of sleeping people, but it was impossible to give a proper answer without being a bit louder. You didn’t even want to be giving these explanations, though. It was your home. You were allowed to say and do what you wanted when you wanted. No matter who was waiting in your bedroom for you. Why couldn’t he have just stayed put?

“Will you be much longer?” He wondered aloud, his voice louder than it should have been as well. 

You shushed him, a finger to your lips and everything, just like before. The jock smirked and winked as if it were an inside joke. Ugh. This was fucking annoying and you knew Jake was already making assumptions based on Theo’s stupid little response. 

“No. And be quiet. Please,” you urged, with an expression lacking any sort of humor to match his. “There are people sleeping. Just go wait. I need to finish talking to Jake about a few things.”

The second wink the football player gave you made you want to bend over and hurl. Why? Because. At that moment, you wanted to be a heinous bitch and straight-up tell him that the way Jake used to finger you was worlds better than the sad little trick he’d performed in your bedroom. Wanted him to know his place and humble himself.

Would it have even mattered to Theo, though? Probably not. He’d gotten over the situation in the living room fairly quickly. . . he was too cocksure for it to matter. He was overconfident when he really shouldn’t have been. You’d easily learned that the guy was kind of an asshole who said and did whatever he wanted. Yes, he was cute. . . but almost everything else about him turned you off. He made your insides squirm in ways you detested. And the fact that he’d just had his fingers inside of you –. Yeah, you wanted to hurl.

“I’ll be waiting,” he replied, tone too flirty for your suddenly queasy stomach. 

Then, he was looking at Jake. Fuck. Wrong move, Theo.

Chancing a quick look at Jake, you saw the muscle in his jaw flex. And from your peripheral, you noticed a motion at his side. You glanced down to your side, and noticed Jake clenching a fist between the two of you. For a moment, you looked once more at Jake’s face. Wanted to get him to see you so he could relax. 

But, there was definitely no way Jake was going to look at you. He was too busy glaring at Theo, while simultaneously trying to school his features. He was failing miserably at seeming calm and collected.

You simply willed the football player to not say anything too dense, eying him carefully as he spoke. “Don’t keep her from me for too long, buddy,” Theo smugly remarked. “We’ve got a good time to finish.”

Thankfully, after those dreadful words were spoken, he was gone. He’d slipped through the door and clicked it shut behind him before Jake could even respond. With the way Jake’s harsh, choppy breaths could be heard in the quietness of the hallway, you didn’t want to know what Jake would have responded. Especially with the way he'd avoided Theo all night, being the only one who hadn’t spoken a word to your. . . date. 

Slowly, you turned on your heel, ready to give Jake a look that would let him know that you were just as annoyed as he was. But when you locked eyes with him, his jaw was still locked tight. His lips were pursed. You were contemplating how you were going to finish the night easily with him when he spoke. 

“How long have you two been fucking?” He whispered, folding his arms across his chest. 

Goddammit! Your mind halted at that, cheeks instantly reddened. Had he heard us? Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Stupid to bank on everyone being asleep. 

The fire that settled in your face, all the way down to your toes fueled your next words. Although, you couldn’t tell if you were more mad at him or the bumbling idiot behind your door. Or, maybe, you should’ve thanked Theo. You’d finally been able to give Jake a taste of his own damn medicine.

“Jacob,” you spit, whispering still, taking a step towards him, pointing a finger at his chest. “It is not your business. We’ve been over this. I’m tired of it.”

“I happen to think it is my business when you’re carrying my child,” he measured, taking his own step in your direction. 

Your fingertip grazed the warm skin of his arm. But before you could think anything of it, you placed your hands on your hips. Well, more like the back of them since you had a belly in the way. As much as you hated to admit it, you knew he had a point. It was the same reason you’d been apprehensive of doing anything with anyone. There was someone in your belly that you shared with someone else. How did one handle that? 

“It’s my body, Jake,” you decided on spitting back. Although, the defense felt as though it were missing a few parts. 

“I know. And I respect that. You know I do. But now she – a part of me – is inside of you,” he responded, his tone switching from irritated to. . . defenseless. With his next words, he stood up a little straighter and used one hand to point a finger at your belly. He didn’t touch it. . . even if you wanted him to. “You’re carrying a part of me, so it is my business.”

You hated that you actually agreed with him. You got it. It didn’t feel right to be with someone else. You couldn’t force your brain to fully adjust to the idea of someone else. Was it because of the baby? Or was it because you just wanted him? You weren’t totally sure. But you did know that he had a point. He wasn’t completely wrong. And, seriously – you hated it. After a minute of silence and nostrils flaring at the other, you’d found words that you truly did actually believe in. Words that definitely contradicted him. Gave you some ground.

“You don’t get to lay claim on me because of that,” you argued, pushing his hand away that was still pointed at your belly. 

You regretted the action because it caused him to back away slightly. And that was the last thing you wanted. However, you appreciated the way his body seemed to relax slightly at the words of sense you’d just stated. He took a deep, steadying breath, eyes closing. When he opened them, though, the fiery look in the dark irises still pierced your heart. And made your heart race all at once.

“I know I don’t, baby,” he replied, the pet name falling off of his lips without a pause. Your heart leapt at him calling you that. He shook his head before brushing a hand through his hair. The way he beheld you from his new position, eyes honed in on you, digging into you and making your skin lick with heat. “But that’s not what I fucking mean and you know it.”

Rather than agreeing, you decided to challenge him. Put him on the spot. “Do I?” “Yes. You do. I know you do. Quit acting so fucking obtuse, y/n,” he countered, pushing a hand through the front of his hair to tousel it. For what must’ve been for the eightieth in a single night.

Doing your best to not be distracted by him, you instead braced yourself on the willpower to keep at him. Wanted to get under his skin until he was forced to be irritated enough to leave you alone. Or, push you up against your bedroom door. No, y/n. No.

You didn’t want to think about how he had a point. It just made you feel hopeless that you would never have a chance to move on from him. Not that you wanted to – you just knew you had to. You weren’t good for him and he had Maya. 

Good job sucking his dick and throwing a wrench in things, by the way, y/n, the little devil on your shoulder reprimanded you. It was a daily occurrence that the inner voice reminded you of that shitty decision. Now you’ve made things harder for you and for him. Real nice.

The negative voice wasn’t completely gone with the therapy, just smaller and quieter when it would come around. Normally, the voice made you want to crawl in a deep, dark hole, but with this lovely reminder it kept giving you, you just wanted to punch a wall. 

There was a definite truth in what it was telling you. Whatever. Situation at hand. The voice could fuck off for now. Jake deserved to be called out for being a fucking child about Theo. You were not the only one acting ‘obtuse’. No, he’d had his fair share of being on the stubborn side of things as of late.

“Oh,” you blinked, your eyebrows set in a straight line at him as your own jaw clenched. The finger you pointed at yourself was to emphasize your point. Get him to listen. “I’m acting obtuse?”

“Yes,” he plainly stated, cheeks red under the hue from the living room lights, his deep set eyes, ablaze. Then he grabbed your hand, keeping it steady in his. The feeling of his hand wrapped around yours made your heart thump a bit harder in your chest. “You are. You’re being hard headed and refusing to hear me.”

“Yet. . .,” you began, taking a step closer to him, but ripping your hand from his. The whole point of this was making sure he knew you had your own ground to stand on. He didn’t have to know you felt shaky about it. “You are the one who – all fucking day – has been making sure to let me know how absurdly jealous you are of me and Theo.”

“You think I’m jealous of him? That floundering fucking moron?”

“Jacob. You quite actually said so yourself,” you rolled your eyes, placing your hands on your lower back. “At the clinic today being one specific example.”

He sighed, his eyes lightening a bit at you calling him out. “Okay. Yes, I did say that. Of course I hate that he gets to have you,” he admitted, his arms coming up to cross his chest but brushing against your breasts in the process. Fuck. You did your best to cover yourself, no matter how uncomfortable it was. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice the mishap. His eyes were lasered in on yours. “He just fucking wishes he could have you like I got to have you.”

Without thinking twice, you said something you knew would get him. Still whispering, you spat the next words at him. “Well he’s the one who just had his fingers inside of me and has you all up in arms over this shit. So who’s fucking winning this stupid ass game, Jake?”

He simply stood there for a moment, his chest muscles were tight. He was so tense that even his chest was flexing. The sight was bad for you. His pecs had always made you weak. Your eyes honed in on his perfectly toned chest; it was easy to appreciate, with the way he wore his button down shirts. You’d never stop thanking God for how he wore his shirts. 

You watched his chest steadily rise and fall with each heavy breath. The space between his pecs, where a couple of his piratical necklaces laid, and the muscle that rounded out his strong chest. . . distracting. Your eyes trailed to his face. In the dim hue of the twinkle lights, you could see the red flush taking over his face and chest. He ran one stiff hand through his hair and took one step towards you, his lips still pursed and his jaw, so fucking tight. 

“Fine. I just don’t want to have to hear it, y/n,” he grumbled at you, his eyes darting over every inch of your face. One more step towards you. You quickly moved your arms away, just so his chest could land against yours. Needed to feel him. “I told you that.”

“And I told you that,” you hissed at him, taking a step even when you didn’t have to, flush against him now. Your sore breasts against his solid chest felt akin to a cool breeze on a summer day. “When you first moved in, Jake. And did that stop you? Back then, you broke the rule. And don’t you forget what the fuck you did when you started dating Maya. I had to see it, Jake. You didn’t give a shit what I’d told you.”

When you stepped towards him, his narrowed eyes slowly trailed from your pleading ones – to your touching bodies. His eyes observed long enough for you to know he liked it just as much as you did. Then, he was looking at you again, biting his lip. But he still hadn’t said anything.

“Exactly,” you said in finality, taking that as your opportunity to have the last word. Hm. You fucking won.

Or so you thought. You should’ve known better.

“But I stopped,” he reasoned, still quiet. His breath fanned over your face with how close he was. “After our talk the other night. I fucking stopped. Out of respect for what we’re going through. I understood where you were coming from. And you’re the one who brought it up to me – who created the damn rule in the first place. So does that mean you’re the only one who has the right to break it? Doesn’t seem very fucking fair to me, baby.”

A couple of minutes passed, your eyes never leaving the other and your bodies close enough to breathe in time with the other. Not to mention the way his hot breath continued to fan over your face, making your body feel more alive than it had since the game. Fuck. The game. His fingers. On you. In your underwear. Outside of your underwear – where you needed him most. 

You were, yet again, silenced. But not for long.

“The point is,” you began, straightening your posture and jutting your chin out at him. His face was tight, brow raised to consider your point. “If I want him to fuck me, Jake,” you took the last step you could take, his back brushing the wall with how close you were. Your body, responding to him in every way it possibly could. “Then he’s going to fuck me.”

Jake’s lids went heavy as he studied you, his mouth held inexplicably still. But, he didn’t have time to respond. Your worst imaginings, coming to fruition as you heard Maya call for him from the living room. Faster than light, you jumped back from him. You did not need her on your case twice in one night. Fuck that shit.

Without having to communicate as to why it seemed a better position, the two of you hastily traded spots. Him, no longer against the wall. You, beside your door. It made things look platonic. Because things were platonic. Though, the looks being exchanged between you were nowhere near the word.

You just thought of his words tonight. Your words. You had to live up to them. Whether you liked it or not. No matter how badly it hurt you to hear the words over and over in your mind. And now, sans talking, you were able to reflect, yet again, on what he’d said to her earlier. 

“Maya, babe. I don’t know what the fuck just happened.” “Don’t want you to think. . .” “We were never anything. Still aren’t.” “There’s nothing to be hung up on.”  “Y/n and I aren’t a thing. Never have been, never will be.”

Tears were, once again, gathering in your eyes. The words had magically escaped your spiraling thoughts until this moment. You'd done such a good job avoiding all of it once you'd come out of the bathroom. But now you had to remember. . . you’d started the blunt statements. You hadn’t meant them. You couldn’t truly mean them. Had it been the same for him? Had he just been trying to cover your asses? 

Before you could say or even think another thing, you saw her tight, shapely body traipse up behind him. Instantly, wrapping her arms around his torso, at which he tensed. You wrapped your arms subconsciously around your own torso, suddenly very insecure at your pregnant pudginess. You did your best to not pay them any mind. Your eyes, trained down at the floor, your toes, tucked into the carpet. 

“I’m ready for bed, Jakey,” Maya squeaked, sounding as though she was ready for a highlight reel on E!. She wasn’t from the fucking Valley. Why did she sound like that? While your thoughts frenzied at her ridiculous dialect, your flesh prickled at her calling him Jakey. You loved the nickname, but detested how it sounded coming from her lips. “Babe?”

At her calling him that, you looked up. He wasn’t paying attention to her at all. He was still watching you, his eyes fixed on your face. Fuck. He wanted to keep talking to you. You could tell – his eyes, equal parts frustrated at being stopped and desperate to continue. He looked as though he was a man racing against time. You understood. Completely. You wanted to continue as well. And you simultaneously, silently wondered what it could’ve led to. But. . . she was waiting. 

“Your girlfriend is ready for bed, Jake,” you reiterated, voice too-sweet from the irritation that lingered in your veins. Not with him. Not really. You just wanted to keep talking to him. No matter the case. Because, for some reason, no matter how you spoke – angrily, sensually, flirtily, kindly, jokingly, confusedly, even – a piece of an imaginary puzzle clicked into place. Every. Single. Time. 

The same conflict that swam timidly in his eyes surely swam laps in yours.

“Jakey, baby. Come on,” she whined again, tugging at his sleeve. God. You wanted to throat punch her. Did she not realize he was obviously upset over something? Why was she not caring to take a second to pay attention? Fuck tiredness. Jake was worth understanding, no matter how badly she wanted to sleep. “Let’s go, babe,” the black haired beauty at his side tried once more.

Your face was glowering at her. But she wasn’t concerned with you, her eyes stuck to his profile. He still hadn’t turned to receive her. She hadn’t even tried to figure out why he hadn’t moved, just continued to beg him to do what she wanted. Begging him like an incompetent toddler. Why was he with someone who didn’t care to figure him out? He deserved someone who took the time to know him, read him – inside and out. 

Finally, he turned his head towards his back, where she still stood. One arm, still tight around his waist. He tapped the arm signaling for her to move it, shaking her other hand off of his sleeve. She squeaked in disappointment, while you stood there confused. Your brows, drawn together. 

His eyes scanned you once more, determination set in his irises, before he looked to the side to address her. “Just go wait for me.” Then, he was looking at you yet again. Your cheeks heated at his rapt attention to you. “I’ll be there in a second,” he spoke to her, eyes never leaving yours. 

Somehow, even after the night’s events, Maya didn’t take too long to agree. After moaning and groaning a couple of times, she settled on a pout before she leaned up to give him a kiss. You looked away, a little too slow. You’d accidentally let yourself see her grab the back of his neck, turning his head in the process.

But, thankfully, you didn’t watch it happen this time. He didn’t watch you as it happened. You didn’t let him. Instead, you placed two gentle hands over your tummy, (not-so) patiently tapping out an Earth, Wind, and Fire rhythm as you waited out the kiss. Her humming, the barely-there moan as she explored his lips made you want to gnaw at fucking bone. 

“Okay,” you heard him declare, seemingly finished. But, you kept your line of sight trained down, still. “I’ll see you in a minute. Go get some sleep.”

“Don’t take too long,” Maya said in a sexy way that rivaled phone sex operators. 

When you felt you’d waited long enough, you looked towards the door. You’d waited just long enough, witnessing his door shutting. And, as soon as the door closed, you turned back to him. And him, you. 

“Why didn’t you go with her?” You quietly questioned, any previous bitterness, gone.

“I’m not finished with this conversation,” he simply stated, shoulders squared and sure. His hands tucked into his pockets as he took a stride towards you, close enough again that you could reach up and touch him if you wanted. 

“Why not?” You hushed, averting your eyes from his. He was so near and he’d just chosen you – you couldn’t trust yourself to look at him. Timidly, you let a heavy breath touch his skin, so close. 

His fingers, calloused yet delicate, lifted your chin to meet his gaze. You felt your eyes create moisture at the gentle act. “Because,” he began earnestly, his eyes searching yours. “This is important to me.”

“More important than her?” You questioned in a barely-there whisper.

“I know it might be hard for you to understand just how important you are to me,” he pressed closer, just enough that your chests were once again touching. Your breath was caught in your throat as he leaned down to better address you. “But it’s been this way for a long damn time and I don’t see it stopping anytime soon. Especially now that you’re pregnant with my baby.”

You offered a few shaky breaths before you decided you needed to say something in return. Intending to somehow wrap up what the two of you had started. “Like I said,” you continued, his hand still under your chin. Your eyes, floating between his amber-brown irises. “That doesn’t mean you lay claim on me.”

“I know, baby,” he countered, sighing with a heaving breath and a twinkle in his eye. “But, I am half of what is in here.” He gently touched your belly, attempting to remind you once more that the baby was his. 

Your first instinct was to lean into his touch, let the moment carry on. And, you did lean in – just enough that he noticed. But, you quickly decided against it. It wasn’t morally sound. This intimate moment. It was not fucking right. You let your eyes dig deep into his, begging him to feel the irresponsibility in this with you. You two were getting carried away. Time and again.

His brows drew in, following every movement of your gaze. When he drew his head back a little, you knew he was feeling something similar to you. You saw the realization dawn on his features. 

You’d both taken the time to apologize for the shit in the living room, and acting like this was going against your word. Your character was now coming into question. His character. Saying one thing and doing another. Fucking terrible. Selfish. The word rang once again in your ear, in that same nasty tone from times’ past. Dark, filthy, decrepit times. 

No longer could you make these reckless, selfish decisions. Not while you carried a baby inside who needed you. Already, you had to try to be an example. You couldn’t keep bouncing from incident to incident with Jake. It was all becoming too much for your heart to keep up with. So, with a giant step backwards, Jake’s hand was left hanging in the air where you’d just been standing. You’d made a strangely abrupt decision that you decided necessary to stand by.

He wasn’t attainable. Simple fact. You thought back to the bathroom, finding the tissues in the trash can right after you’d decided to focus on positive things for your little girl. You had to be selfless and let go of the one person your heart helplessly hoped for. . . You had to try to figure your shit out before there was a baby involved.  

All this thing with Jake did was make your heart pinch sadly in your chest. Each of you had people waiting for you in your bedrooms, for god's sake. No matter who they were, you had to quit this to show a morsel of respect towards them, yourselves, and ultimately your baby girl.

Giving it a second of thought and nothing more, you decided to curtly respond. You measured the words in your mind, briefly chewing on them, deciding if they were cutting enough to resonate with him. Had to end the moment. Would you end up regretting this? At the moment, you were too exhausted to care.

“Doesn’t mean you’re entitled to know a damned thing about my life,” you said, the words feeling false on your lips. Shaking your head, you smoothed your hands down the front of your t-shirt, distancing the two of you enough that you were almost leaning on your bedroom door. Him, across from you, now several steps away. It hurt to be far apart. “The baby, yes. Not me. You need to understand that,” you bit the words at him. 

And, without a thought, you knew the final nail you had to plunge into the coffin. These words felt sticky on your tongue. You didn’t want to speak the words, but felt you had to. It was best for the baby. “And things like tonight. . . they cannot happen, Jake. The little times here and there, those haven’t been smart. And I’m sorry for my part in those. . . But tonight?” You raised your brows, your tone a pitch higher as you thought back to the intense moment shared between you. “In a room full of people, Jake. We have to stop being so irresponsible. For her,” you placed a hand gently on your tummy, your eyes peering up at him, begging for support. “We need to find a stable ground for her to land on. The back and forth is not good for a baby. It’s unpredictable and scary.”

He stood in front of you for a second, obviously processing your words. But it didn’t take too long for him to respond with a nod of his head. And, for some reason, you wished it had taken him longer. “Okay,” he coolly responded, his face opening just the slightest at the word. His posture suddenly eased as the tiniest grin formed at his lips. 

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Jake’s POV

“Okay,” she nodded in response, her face flashing with doubt. Just for a second. “Goodnight, Jake,” she breathed, her chest no longer close enough to mine for me to feel. Her eyes, the most incredible pool of color, scanned my face once more before she was reaching up. For some delusional reason, I thought she was about to touch my face.

She never did, of course. Why would she? She was obviously upset and I’d been the one to make her that way. I watched the hand, as she used it to tuck hair behind her own ear. 

But just as soon, she was gone. Her body disappeared behind her door, and I was left standing in the same spot I’d been in many times before. And I felt like a motherfucking asshole. An asshole who wanted nothing more but to apologize to her for any and all confrontation.

She’d made it clear it wasn’t my business, just as I had told her of my love life. Yet, somehow, I’d let myself repeatedly disrespect that. No matter how strongly I felt for her, it wasn’t okay for me to ever make her feel like she wasn’t entitled to live her life however she wanted. I didn’t take back what I’d said – I didn’t want to know about the sex. I didn’t want to hear it. Just as she’d instructed me, I wanted the same from her. 

That wasn’t too much to ask. But, repeatedly bringing Theo up? I needed to quit that shit. Yes, he was a fucking moron, but she’d never done that to me with Maya. Not in the way I had with him. She had always respected my love life. . . She’d even gone so far as to assure Maya tonight of us being nothing. The word was haunting. Nothing. Did she really, truly believe that? 

I didn’t know. And, if it was true, I didn’t need to know. It was the past. . . and that was the hardest part to wrap my mind around. I’d spoken the fucking words with my mouth, too. The web was so tangled and I wanted nothing more than to throw a mistle through it, disrupting each intricate knot we’d created.

We’d made mistakes in recent days. Mistakes that kept me fucking wanting her. . . I’d wanted her before those mistakes, too, yes. . .  but those stolen moments were not doing me any damn good. So I knew good and well they weren’t good for her either. All the touches of hands and mouths against bodies did was crush any chance of us being healthy co-parents for our little girl. And all they did was remind me – every time they happened – that she wasn’t mine to have.

Those things that we’d slipped up on, they shouldn’t have mattered. But I’d let them matter. I’d let them distract me from the most important tiny person in all of this. All that needed to matter was our baby. And it needed to matter how much y/n was doing every damned day for that baby. It was enough to make me realize she was doing so much more than I ever could for her. She was a fucking badass. And, she deserved nothing but complete and utter respect from me. 

But all I’d done was question and worry and put her on the spot more times than a few. Most recently, over her stupid ass study buddy. I was putting too much on her. I needed to fucking stop. The last thing I wanted was for her to feel pressured by me to stop something that might make her happy. She was a smart woman – the smartest I knew – who could do what she wanted. She didn’t need my opinions. Truly. 

There were just a lot of memories swimming around in my mind every single fucking day – day in and day out. Aside from our summer of bliss which was a constant reel in my head, I had a few pleasant and unpleasant memories mixed in there, too.

The night we’d smoked, for one. And that dreaded day in the kitchen, so many months ago. All of the time spent watching her from afar for the couple of months we barely talked. Those months had been miserable, even if Maya had been a decent distraction. The distraction could only work so well, I’d come to find. 

Those months that rattled in my brain included that damn Halloween party. Her, in that sexy ass costume, already pregnant with my baby. Me, drinking as much as I could to avoid looking at her. Though, it’d had the opposite effect. My eyes had been glued to her from across the room all night that night. 

I’d obviously had no idea then who she was carrying in her belly, but I didn’t need to know. That night, I’d still gone to sleep thinking of her naked body. I’d fallen asleep with her bare body on my mind countless nights in that time of not talking. I could still remember. . . when I had taken a shower the night of the party, leaned against the shower wall and drunk off my ass. . . I’d pumped my fist furiously over my dick as images of her bigger tits in that tiny costume flooded my exhausted mind.

And, as I'd finished all over my shaking hand, her name had fallen from my lips in sweet surrender. It had been the first time I’d said her name as I finished. . . in a long while. 

After that, there was the image of her in nothing but a towel, and a phone revealing the most shocking news a person could discover. And it didn’t matter how hard I tried, it still bothered me that she’d told Josh before me. Ludicrous as that may have seemed – but that was just something I still had to get over myself. 

Then, the night she spilled her water. Wet body in my arms, my hands ready to hold her and protect her and our baby from a fall. And the fucking thought of her bent over the armrest in my jeep, a fully pregnant belly brushing my hand as she gave me the best fucking head. 

The less-sexual, serene times where we would hang out together, or hold hands, or meet eyes, or look at our baby on that monitor together. . . those moments in time were pretty fucking shitty to ponder, too. A little worse, I’d say, actually. Because in those moments, I saw so much in her eyes that I wanted to decipher, but felt like I didn’t have the right to. Felt like I didn’t have the right to those special parts of her. Not anymore. 

Fleeing to Maya in September had been the biggest fucking mistake. Rather than taking any damn time for myself, I’d used someone. I’d let another woman distract me from y/n – the one woman who’d meant more to me than anyone before her. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to make y/n jealous with it, too. I wanted her to realize I didn’t need her. I wanted her to hurt like she’d hurt me.

It had been the biggest fucking mistake. A selfish, heedless decision. And now I was paying for it. Like I fucking deserved. 

Maya just wasn’t y/n. Plain and simple. But there was no use leaving her if y/n didn’t want the whole thing with me. All of it. What I’d hoped for all summer, only for her to break me in the kitchen. She still didn’t want that with me. And. . . I had to be okay with that.

Y/n deserved the fucking world. Truly. She just didn’t understand her worth. . . The least I could do from my place in her life was treat her right. She was undoubtedly the best person I’d ever met, and she had to know it. She had to know how wonderful she was. 

I finally made it to my bed after the slowest walk known to man. And, after I laid down, scooting as far to the edge of my bed from Maya as possible, I decided what I had to do. I was going to make it my fucking job to prove to y/n that she was absolutely worthy of all good things. No more bullshit. I wanted to help her, not stress her.

As my eyes shut, I knew I would be starting in the morning by apologizing for being such an enormous dick to her. Yet again. And, I’d begin doing my best to keep my hands to myself. That would be hard, but it was what she wanted. Y/n was worthy of every beautiful thing and more. I just had to show her. I was determined to do the best by her.

For her. 

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: see you soon! (believe me. really. i promise.) truly, chapter 12 is nearly awaiting a post ;)

-🌼🌼🌼-

Taglist (continued in reblog):

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[archiveikemen]

Liam Evans 2nd Birthday Campaign: Story

Epilogue [His POV]

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

It was the first time I found myself unable to look at someone because their existence was so dazzling.

Kate: Nn, Liamm

(Cute…) 

I reached between my lover’s legs as she laid below me with tears in her eyes, enduring the pleasure. 

Liam: Like it here?

Kate let out a high-pitched cry of pleasure when I sank my fingers into her wet spot. 

Kate: Ahh, that spot— 

(Cute, cute, so cute.)

As I pumped my fingers in and out of her, she came so hard that she was in a daze.

Seeing her melting from the pleasure made me want to give her even more. 

(Seriously, how can you possibly be this cute and loveable?) 

Kate looked like a cat begging for food when she rubbed her cheek against my hand that was positioned next to her face. 

Liam: ! 

Kate: Liam… already…

It was awfully lascivious.

Liam: Yeah, I’m already at my limit too. 

I was only pretending to be composed because I wanted her to be impressed, even just a little bit.

(But that pretence falls off right away.) 

When in front of Kate, any attempts to act cool were meaningless.

As I reached for my belt, Kate spread her arms wide. 

Liam: Sorry, I don’t think you’ll be getting any sleep until past noon.

Laying on the white sheets scattered with rose petals, she gave me a gentle smile.

Kate: I don’t mind as long as we’ll be sleeping together.

(You’re truly so kind and doting towards me.) 

In place of a reply, I hugged her tight and gave her a breathtakingly deep kiss.

Then I entered her, surrendering myself to the euphoria. 

…

Tom: Thanks, Liam. You’re a great help.

I was standing on stage after practice to help Tom install the new lights. 

Liam: Nah, I was also curious to see how the new lights look. 

Liam: But they’re rather hot, so I think we could consider thinner costumes. 

Stage lights shine brightly on the actors, but they also give off heat, making us feel hot being under them. 

Tom: I see… I’ll discuss that with the costume team tomorrow.

Tom: This is the kind of lighting that best makes our lead actor shine like a star. It was worth every penny of that high price.

Seeing Tom pretend to cry and worry about his wallet made me recall my birthday a few days ago.

Liam: Like a star…

At that moment, I couldn't contain my smile when I thought of Kate’s dazzling smiling face. 

Tom: … You took a day off on your birthday this year. How did you spend it? 

I looked up to see Tom wearing a soft smile as though he knew I had a great birthday. 

Liam: … I had a wonderful time. My lover celebrated with me, and my friends threw a party too.

On the night of my birthday, Kate took my hand and led me to the dining room where everyone from Crown had gathered.

(Victor whipped up a luxurious dinner spread, and Harry and Will prepared presents for me.) 

Colourful streamers popped out from party crackers, filling the room with vibrancy and joy. 

(Last year, I would've been too afraid to accept that happy scene.) 

But with her smiling next to me, I had the courage to embrace that happiness. 

Tom: From that look on your face, I can already tell you had a good time. I’m relieved to know that.

Tom: I’d appreciate it if you could also fly back here to celebrate with us too next year. 

While holding the keys, Tom smiled and I gave a vague smile in return…

(When that day comes, I’ll definitely fly back here like he said.)

Once you’ve gotten a taste of happiness, you can never forget it.

(I long to see your smile again and hear your congratulatory words.)

…

I parted ways with Tom and walked through the streets at night.

(It’s quite late, so Kate’s probably already asleep.)

I had let her know before leaving the castle that I’d be return late, so she definitely went to bed first.

The hands on the clock tower struck twelve, I lost count of how many nights I’ve spent walking alone like this. 

(In the past, I’d go out drinking, partying, or doing dangerous things with Al.) 

But ever since Kate and I started dating, my nightlife decreased dramatically and before I knew it, scouting potential date spots became my norm. 

(Maybe I should look around and plan our next date for the weekend.)

I turned around and went past shops I planned to visit with Kate.

(Here and…)

(This shop too.) 

Liam: That should do it. 

After checking out various places, I was on my way home again.

It had been two hours.

(We’ll have a meal together first, then we’ll check out that shop for some trinkets, after that we’ll go grab a snack…) 

As I was planning our date while walking in the night, the lightness of my heart was shown in my footsteps. 

(Kate will definitely like that shop.) 

A smile formed on my lips when I imagined her reaction, and the smell of modern roses reached my nose. I reached into my pocket and inside it was a pink pouch filled with the rose petals Kate showered me with on my birthday. 

(I was right to turn it into a sachet to carry around with me.)

I narrowed my eyes contentedly when I gently shook the sachet and caught another waft of the roses. 

(I’m sure that this scent will fade away too.) 

But you taught me that there’ll always be next time. 

(Like petals falling off a flower, happiness will eventually come to an end.)

(But I’ll live in the present as though that day will never come.)

— As long as you continue shining brightly at the centre of my world. 

Liam: … This won’t do, I need to see Kate right now. 

I put the sachet back into my pocket and quickened my pace. 

The stars twinkled in the sky. 

…

Without knocking on the door, I sneaked into Kate’s bedroom and saw her sound asleep on the bed. A smile formed on my face.

(She has such an adorable sleeping face… I wonder what kind of dream she’s having.)

From the slight upward curve of her lips, I thought that she must've been having a pleasant dream and laid down next to her.

Before I met Kate, my heart that never once felt full was always dull. 

But after meeting her, I continued being afraid of experiencing happiness and regretting having ever been born.

(... Even now, I still can’t bring myself to say that I’m glad I was born.) 

The scars in my heart remained, and they would never disappear. 

(But despite that, you saved me.) 

Kate smiled happily as I tucked the strand of hair that had fallen onto her cheek, behind her ear.

Kate: Liam… welcome home…

Liam: Sorry, did I wake you? 

I quickly moved away, but Kate stayed fast asleep… 

Liam: … Was she sleep-talking? 

She snuggled up against my chest with a tender smile. 

Liam: … Do you see me even in your dreams? 

Despite not receiving a reply, I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. 

Liam: That’s not fair. I want to see you in my dreams too.

Even now, I’m still afraid of sleeping.

(Because I can never have happy dreams.)

But being by your side makes me feel like I won’t get nightmares.

Liam: I wanted to feel happy and needed by someone, and yet I wasn't prepared to receive happiness. 

Liam: That’s why there were so many moments where I couldn't bring myself to take your hand. 

There were multiple instances where I wished I had taken your hand.

Liam: But because you didn't give up on me, I started believing that I shouldn't give up on myself either. 

Time and time again, you reached out your small hand towards me; and that’s why I can be here right now, expressing my love for you. 

Liam: That’s why, this time, I’ll be the one to hold your hand no matter how many times. 

Liam: If it slips away, I’ll tighten my grip. If we miss each other, I’ll run after you. 

Liam: Even if you give up on yourself, I’ll never give up on you.

Liam: With the rest of my life, I’ll repay you for everything you’ve done for me.

Drawn to her warmth, sleepiness started to wash over me. It was a rare occurrence. 

(It still scares me to give into my sleepiness, but…)

For some reason, I had a feeling I would have a pleasant dream that night.

Liam: Good night, Kate. See you in my dreams. 

As I hugged her tightly and shut my eyes, I saw with my mind’s eye an image of her showering me with petals.

— Tonight, too, the brightest star in my universe was shining brilliantly in my arms. 

[bellarkeselection]

His Compass of Harrenhal part 4

Part 3

- do y'all want one more part to this mini series???

Tag list - @only4thefics @superintenseart @universallyrascaldreamercookie @uniquecroissant @vavafaure1994

Daemon and I silently stood there just staring at the old caretaker of the crumbling castle.  The weight of the words that had just come from his mouth was very clear in the forefront of our minds.  I knew that this day would come, but I never imagined that it would be as sudden as this.  This visitor was not simply us meeting a friend for a chat. No, this was the Dragon Queen Rhaeynra Targareyon.

She is a fierce dragon and I am simply a fish out of water.  She could kill me probably without even blinking and walk away if she wished to.

She is also Daemon's former wife or maybe in her eyes they are still together.  There's no possible way that she knows about me.

"Daemon, what do you think she's going to do to me?" I mumbled lifting my head up slightly with a very nervous expression crossing my features.

He squeezed his fingers into my hips where his hands were resting on my body. "I don't know.  But you shouldn't worry your head about it."

"But she's your wife."

His bright purple eyes meet my gaze. "Y/n, don't worry about it because I will make sure she doesn't touch you or the baby in any capacity."

"Daemon! She's your wife. She needs you to get the support of the lords of the realm. I don't help give her any assistance-"

He covered my mouth with his right hand closing most of the gap that was still between us.  His voice went deeper yet remained in the gentle side that he only showed around me.  "Listen to me, little fish.  You are important to me.  I wouldn't have the support of the Riverlands if it wasn't for you.  So I never want to hear you say she doesn't owe you anything when she does owe you some grattitude."

"I'm still afraid, Daemon." I whispered to him under my breath.  The dragon prince nodded his head wrapping his strong arms gently around my waist, bringing me in closer.

Simon, who was standing in the doorway spoke up once before announcing his presence.  "My king, my lady, we should address the princess before she wastes anymore time."

"You should go.  I'll stay back-"

"You won't dare do any such thought.  We're in this together you and I.  I want you by my side."

"I wasn't expecting you."

Rhaenyra eyed her husband then the crowd of men behind him. "Seems rather a lapse in foresight.  I see you have done well here."

"They are sworn to me and not a moment too soon." Daemon admitted to her proudly, knowing she needed this army to have any chance of getting the Iron Throne.

Rhaenyra lifted her head up slightly to send him a deep glare asking the question.  "And to whom are you sworn?"

"The world is not what we thought it was.  This war is just the beginning.  Winter is Coming with darkness and doom.  ( Se vys iksos daor skoros īlon thought ziry istan. Bisa vīlībāzma iksos sepār se beginning. Sōnar māzis rūsīr darkness se vējes.)"

Rhaenyra made a confused expression.  "You sound like my father. ( Ao sound raqagon issa kepa.)"

"I saw that we cannot withstand it..and yet, somehow we must. ( Nyke ūndan bona īlon daor withstand ziry. Se yet, somehow īlon līs.)" Daemon clicks his tongue glancing over his shoulder at me for a brief second before looking back at her.  He lowered himself down onto one knee catching her by slight surprise. "The realm's only hope is a leader who can unite it.  And my brother chose you.  You are the true Queen.  Rhaenyra, the first of her name, Protector of the Realm.  I am meant to serve you and all of these with me until death or the end of our story."

Slowly every single lord around me bent down on one knee to address her properly as their Queen.  I placed one hand on my swollen stomach and did the best I could to be down on one knee like the others. Squinting my eyes I was still trying to understand what they were saying in High Valyrian, I was still learning the language from Daemon. "Leave me again at your peril. ( Henujagon issa arlī rȳ aōha peril.)"

"I could not. I tried. ( Nyke could daor. Nyke sylutan.)" Daemon rose from the stone ground addressing her before her dragon made a noise.  "My Queen."

"For every one of us who falls a hundred of them.  There will be no mercy." Daemon put his back to the two of us, drawing his sword out and declaring to the massive crowd of men.  "We fight for our Queen!"

The crowd drew their swords and cheered alongside him till Rhaenyra noticed me standing at the front of the crowd with my hands resting on my stomach and I was only really looking at her husband.  "Daemon, who in the realm is the pregnant woman standing before me?"

"You're grace..." I nervously bowed my head down to address the dragon queen before me.

The queen slowly walked forward scanning her eyes down my body and held her eyes solely on my pregnant belly.  "What is your name, my lady?"

"Y/n Tully, your grace." I simply responded to her.

She questioned back softly.  "Who is the father of the babe in your belly, Lady Tully?"

"Um.  I must admit I am not comfortable sharing that information, your grace." I lowered my gaze from hers and accidentally took a few steps away from her showing I was afraid of her next response.

Rhaenyra bites her lip in a tight line.  "Daemon, I demand to know what else you have been doing here while working to secure me an army of Riverlands men and I demand to know now!" 

"Rhaenyra, she's my - the baby growing in her womb belongs to me." Daemon placed his sword back inside its holder coming over to the two of us.

The dragon queen clicked her tongue.  "There's more you're leaving out.  Tell me now."

"She's my wife." Daemon finally mutters under his breath.  This caused everyone else in the crowd to gasp and take large steps backwards in utter shock.

Rhaenyra whipped her head around glaring at me and I shut my eyes thinking she would lay a hand on me.  Yet when I heard a harsh smack where I peaked one eye opened seeing Daemon holding his cheek with one hand.  "You promised me you'd be loyal to me.  You led me on when I was a child and I believed you and yet you still do this.  You betray my trust by marrying and bedding another woman!"

"I now see what my brother saw in you when he named you heir.  I see that you will be the realm's protector even if you no longer are the object of my desire." Daemon made his way past his former wife stopping directly in front of me.  He cupped my face in his hands resting his forehead against his.  "I've never thought that a woman would change me, make me truly care about her safety, want to bear her children and not simply to further my house.  She brings out the best version of me."

"And where does your loyalty stand, Y/n Tully?" The black Queen questioned me after we had broken away and I was standing beside my dragon husband.

"My loyalty will be to your cause, my Queen." I gave her the best curtsy I could, sending her a weak smile.

Rhaenyra glared at me and her former husband but bravery pushed her jealousy aside knowing we had bigger problems if she wished to take her throne back from her half brothers.  "Our focus needs to be on getting my throne back from the Greens.  But don't think for a moment that this conversation is over between the three of us." She spun on her heels being escorted into a separate room by Simon leaving me, Daemon and the lords behind us all thrown for a loop by how she ended the conversation.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[dan-the-womans-blog]

Love “Shield of Silence” ❤️❤️ What about this time around Hotch need the rescue and they're in a relationship? Add anything you want. Tag me later. Thanks!! :)))

Title: "Tables Turned"

Part two for "shield of Silence"

(Aaron hotchnerr x fem!reader)

It had been a long case, the kind that seemed to stretch on forever with no clear answers. You and the team had been in Denver for almost a week now, chasing leads that seemed to go nowhere. Exhaustion clung to every agent like a second skin, and tempers were fraying at the edges. Still, you had a job to do, and as always, Aaron Hotchner was at the helm, holding everything together with his calm authority.

The only problem? Chief Jenny Montgomery.

From the moment you and Hotch had arrived at the local precinct, you could feel the Chief’s eyes lingering on him. At first, it was subtle—a little too much eye contact, a smile that lasted just a fraction longer than necessary. You didn’t think much of it, chalking it up to her trying to be friendly. But as the days wore on, her attention became impossible to ignore. She was practically hovering over Hotch at every opportunity, leaning in too close, her hand grazing his arm under the guise of handing him files. It was infuriating.

What made it worse was that Hotch, ever the professional, remained oblivious—or at least, he pretended to be. It was one of the things you loved most about him: his ability to keep his cool under pressure, always staying focused on the case. But this? This was testing your limits.

You’d been dating Aaron for nearly six months now. It had started slow, after that moment in the conference room when he confessed his feelings for you. But what you had was real, and it was strong. You’d been through a lot together, and the rest of the team knew about the relationship. They’d accepted it, even supported it—after all, they knew better than anyone how much Aaron needed someone to lean on after everything he’d been through.

But Jenny Montgomery didn’t seem to care. And you were not in the mood to play nice.

It was the third time that day that she’d sidled up to Hotch during a meeting, her body language screaming interest. You were across the room with Spencer and Rossi, trying to keep your attention on the case file in front of you, but your eyes kept drifting back to the two of them. Every time she laughed—loudly, unnecessarily—you felt your grip on your pen tighten.

Spencer glanced up at you, clearly noticing your growing tension. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you muttered through gritted teeth, not taking your eyes off the pair. Hotch was standing there, arms crossed, looking as stoic as ever while Chief Montgomery laughed at something he’d said. But you knew him too well. You saw the slight tightening of his jaw, the way his eyes flickered with discomfort. He wasn’t enjoying this any more than you were.

You stood abruptly, unable to take it any longer. “Excuse me.”

You didn’t storm over—that wasn’t your style. But your footsteps were firm, your body language making it clear that you were not to be trifled with.

“—and I was just telling Agent Hotchner that we have this great little spot in town if he wanted to join me for—”

“That won’t be necessary,” you interrupted, your voice calm but laced with a steel edge. “Agent Hotchner already has plans.”

Montgomery’s eyes flickered with surprise, but she quickly recovered, giving you a tight smile. “Oh? I wasn’t aware.”

You smiled back, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “You are now.”

The tension in the room thickened, but you didn’t care. You weren’t going to stand by and let this woman flirt with your boyfriend right in front of you. Hotch shifted beside you, his lips twitching as if he was trying to suppress a smile. He hadn’t said a word, but you could tell he was enjoying this—probably far more than he should.

Montgomery’s smile faltered. “Well, I didn’t mean to intrude. I just thought—”

“You’ve been ‘just thinking’ all week,” you said, your voice still deceptively calm. “But let me make something clear: Aaron is taken. He’s with me. So, whatever little lunch date you had planned? Cancel it.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel eyes on you—from your team, from the officers nearby. You didn’t care. Chief Montgomery stood frozen for a moment, clearly not used to being spoken to like that. She stammered something under her breath and walked away, her face flushed with embarrassment.

As soon as she was out of earshot, you let out a long breath, the adrenaline coursing through you. You half expected Hotch to give you a stern look, to remind you about professionalism and keeping your cool.

But instead, he laughed.

It started as a small chuckle, then grew into full-blown laughter—the kind that had him clutching his stomach, gasping for air as he tried and failed to compose himself. His face turned red, and the sound echoed through the precinct, drawing even more eyes in your direction.

You stared at him in disbelief. “Aaron, are you—”

He shook his head, still laughing too hard to speak. His laughter was so out of character that the entire team was gaping at him like he’d lost his mind. Even Spencer looked confused, his brows furrowed as if he were trying to solve a puzzle.

“Hotch?” Morgan ventured, his voice laced with amusement. “You good, man?”

Hotch wiped tears from his eyes, finally managing to catch his breath. “I’m fine,” he gasped, his voice still thick with laughter. “I just—oh, God—I’ve never seen you like that, Y/N. You—” He dissolved into laughter again, leaning against the nearest desk for support.

You couldn’t help but smile, even as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” Hotch looked at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Y/N, that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen anyone shut someone down like that.”

“I wasn’t going to stand there and let her flirt with you.”

“Clearly,” he said, still grinning. “And for the record, I would’ve turned her down myself if you hadn’t beaten me to it.”

You folded your arms, trying to hide your own amusement. “You didn’t exactly seem in a hurry to stop her.”

Hotch stepped closer, his smile softening as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I didn’t need to. I knew you’d handle it.”

His touch sent a wave of warmth through you, and suddenly, the tension you’d been carrying all week melted away. “Next time, maybe I’ll let you handle it.”

He chuckled, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Deal.”

As he leaned in to kiss you, you heard Morgan’s voice in the background. “Okay, seriously, Hotch, what the hell just happened?”

You pulled back from the kiss, glancing over at the team. They were all staring, clearly still in shock at what had just transpired. Rossi had an amused smile on his face, and even JJ was shaking her head in disbelief.

“Long story,” you said with a grin. “But trust me, it was worth it.”

As you turned back to Hotch, you saw the love in his eyes—so much deeper than words could ever express. And you knew, without a doubt, that whatever challenges came your way, you and Aaron would face them together.

And if anyone ever crossed the line again, well… they’d better be ready for round two.

@pear-1206

[cardboardheartss]

NEWJEANS Overall Reading

⚠️DISCLAIMER! TAROT CARDS ARE NOT 100% ACCURATE! TAKE EVERYTHING WITH A GRAIN OF SALT! IF MY INTERPRETATIONS ARE INCORRECT FEEL FREE TO CORRECT ME!⚠️

*NWJNS current thoughts*

Minji : 7oC rx

In all honesty, from my cards, it seems as if Minji still wants to continue fighting. She is aware of the consequences that she’ll be facing but she honestly wants to fight. It seems like she will continue to demand change within the company, she only demands change for the sake of maintaining NWJNS creativity and image.

Hyein : 2oC rx

Hyein is completely tired. She wants to end her contract with HYBE, she is aware of the issues that HYBE and Fraudor will put her through and for her own sanity, she really wants to leave.

Haerin : 3oW rx, 9oP rx, The World

Haerin honestly wants a break! She is tired, and is literally on the brink of losing her mind atp. Haerin is also aware that HYBE will sabotage the girls careers on purpose, and she honestly does not want that for herself. She just wants to possibly go on a world tour and continue her career as NWJNS before April.

Hanni : AoW, 3oC rx

Poor Pham Pham, this situation has really made her question herself A LOT! She probably sits in her room and asks herself, “Why am I here?” “Why did I choose the fame life?” “Should I even continue being in NWJNS at this point?” Many thoughts surrounding her current situation as a member of NWJNS.

Danielle : Judgement rx, The Sun rx, 6oS, KoC rx, KNoP

The hate comments are hitting Dan Dan really hard, she has had the most difficult time. Since I watch NWJNS content, I can tell that she is honestly outraged and depressed too. Her whole vibe and personality has just become so closed off, it’s actually quite sad to witness. She really hates BSH too, many many negative thoughts about that man. Just views him as a money hungry coward tbh.

*thoughts on Jungkook’s support post*

Minji : QoC rx, WoF, KoS rx

“Oh no.”😤 She knew what was coming, the fans. She just knew that it will bring them more bad luck, because of the hate comments they’ll be receiving (which is happening as I type this). She’s thankful for the post, in a way but she knew that the fans will downplay this post and cause a ruckus.

Hyein : 3oC rx

She was worried about his fans turning against him. She is also worried about how the higher ups will react towards Jungkook after the post had been made.

Haerin : 5oW rx

She’s so glad someone with so much power finally stood up for her group. In the back of her mind, she’s probably thinking about how other groups could be envious about this moment that took place. Overall, she’s honestly really really grateful to have Jungkook on their side because she really thinks the group needed that one person to just shake things up a bit.

Hanni : 6oC

*do y’all know the “that’s a real black king right there🤪” sound from TikTok?*

Hanni in all honesty said, “that’s a real sunbaenim right there.🙂‍↕️” Wouldn’t be surprised if Hanni actually cried a bit after seeing that post and statement. She is soooo grateful, she honestly is so relieved to actually see someone with so much power and influence in the industry stand up for her group. She honestly is so grateful! My gut tells me that she probably saved that post as her Lock Screen or just looks at it every night for motivation.

Danielle : 8oW rx, Devil rx, The Empress

Initially, I don’t even think Dani was aware of the post. Poor Dani probably has her phone off or has deleted her social media for the sake of her peace. After she was aware of the post, she was quite taken aback because she doesn’t believe how Jungkook, actually had the guts to stand for NWJNS while being aware of the situation her group has with HYBE. She really respects him and applauds him for what he did.

*overall HYBE groups thoughts on this situation*

5oC rx, 2oP

Seems like these groups really be avoiding each other like a PLAGUE! These groups are completely and totally aware of the support NWJNS has, and I could say it kinda rubs them off the wrong way because they’re going through similar situations but they’re not getting the support from the rest of the industry and majority of the population of Korea (before y’all come for me, yes, support from this population matters the most, I’m sorry… I don’t make the rules!) It seems like they’ll try avoid thinking of this, and focus on support they receive from their own fandoms and promotions.

*will NWJNS stay in HYBE?*

5oP

No, the girls will eventually be leaving HYBE for good. In all honesty once again, these girls will have to leave this company for the sake of their own peace. They’re going to have many financial difficulties as they depart from this company but they’re going to have to either way.

*outcome of HYBE, once NWJNS leave*

AoP rx, The Lovers, 4oP, 10oS

lol. they’re going to be broker than ever! they will attempt to reconcile with their stock brokers or brands, to jump start their stock market value again, but it seems like all these businesses will stay clear from them to protect their own money because they’re aware, they’ll not be benefiting themselves with working with HYBE. HYBE will have to work really hard for positive public support again but it’s going to take a while.

*publics perception of NWJNS departure from HYBE*

6oW rx, Justice rx, Strength

the public will be divided ; Token/HYBE stans & Bunnies/K-Industry/Public & Rest of the public. The first group of people will be dissatisfied and angered by NWJNS leaving and claim that they’re ungrateful and stupid. The rest of the public will feel remorseful and encourage NEWJEANS to not give up but at the same time, should take a break!

OR!

the public will hate HYBE even more, and question their motives as a company overall. many people will not support HYBE any longer and believe they need their names tarnished as much as well. Would not be surprised if HYBE releases a media play article that day, in a celebratory manner about NWJNS departure but the public will remind them that they (HYBE) has not won in this situation, and will in fact be weak in terms of revenue.

*NWJNS careers once they depart from HYBE*

everybody say this with me : “NEWJEANS NEVER DIE!”📢

Pregnancy, Open Up Your Heart, Communicate, Manifest, Caution rx

*while shuffling the cards, the words NEWJEANS entertainment, came out my mouth lol! I would not be surprised if NWJNS establish their own company or they could possibly be moving to a different company, depending on their financial positions*

Anyways, the girls will come back better than ever! They will be expressing their gratitude to all the people who were on their side from the very beginning til the position they’ll be in once they’ve departed from HYBE. It seems as if the members 11:11 wishes will come true, and they’ll be a bit more stable and peaceful but it also seems like the girls will overwork themselves a bit too much because they want to prove to HYBE or the public that’s against them, that’s NWJNS as 5 shouldn’t be underestimated.

*individual messages from my cards for NWJNS members during this situation*

>this is so random lol but my gut is telling me to do this so I guess why not.🤷🏽‍♀️

Minji (Divorce) : my cards are telling her to consider canceling her contract with HYBE.

Hyein (Moving) : my cards are also telling her to consider canceling her contract with HYBE.

Haerin (Commitment rx) : my cards are also telling her to also just end her contract with HYBE.

Hanni (Health) : my cards are telling her to watch out for her physical and mental health! urgently so!💢

Danielle (Mercury Retrograde) : my cards are telling Ms Aries Mercury to hold herself back because people on social media will continue to attack her for what she says and supports.

That’s all for NWJNS today! The cards came out a bit better-ish than I had anticipated. I’m just relieved and touched to see how NWJNS will be okay after this situation. It will take some time for them to get back on their feet but they’re honestly going to kill it!

nwjns never die!🩷💛💚💜💙👏🏽

[bri-licious08]

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ⊹ ࣪ ˖♡The Heart Knows♡⊹ ࣪ ˖

⊹ ࣪ ˖Bakugou x Reader⊹ ࣪ ˖

Contains: Some cursing, aged up characters! 3rd years in U.A. , other than that it’s nothing but fluff :) Happy reading! /^~^/

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜

Bakugou Katsuki wondered the halls of U.A. He walked these halls every day during the week. From going to class, the restroom, training grounds, cafeteria, the school’s gym, and the support course class. Not once has these halls ever felt different to him, different in the sense of being bare, empty or dark, scarce or lonely. But things changed, and that scared him. His life was great, he was doing great with being the greatest, but now he felt far from it. This feeling was foreign and new and he hated it. He was frustrated to no end only because he couldn't explain to himself let alone anyone why, how, or what he was feeling. He just didn’t know.

What he did know, was they started because of her. Y/n, L/n. Known for her beauty and wits, strength and grades, personality and skills, quirk and talents, she was well known within U.A. let alone the streets of Japan as an upcoming Hero. He knew that, she knew that, hell everyone knew that. Maybe that's why it made it even more difficult to be around her. The fact that everyone wanted to befriend her, talk to her, and know her. There was something special about you that everyone wanted to see, including him. Of course, he wasn't the only one, and that's what aided in the difficulty of things.

For some odd reason, Bakugou always found you, sought you, heard you. How or why he couldn’t tell, he just did. Oh, the class lost sight of you at the mall, there you were at the pet shop a few stores behind, how did they miss you? In a giant crowd at the ice rink, he peeked over a bunch of heads until he found you rather quickly, zooming through the extras trying to learn or just skating decently. Walking by the common room of the dorms, he heard you gossiping about some character from a stupid romance manga you were gushing about with Mina. Later that day he looked up the character name and found out the name of the manga.

For Christmas he happened to get you for the Secret Santa crap everyone decided to do this year, seeing how you all lived with each other and it was your first Christmas together. Of course, he bought you the new volume that was just released last week. Before he purchased it he made sure you hadn’t bought it yet through Kirishima. He also got you a basket of your favorite snacks, (he asked Kirishima who asked Mina, again) along with a soft cozy blanket with your favorite anime character. He always heard you talking about them. He considered watching that anime, but lately, he’s been too busy with life to sit down and watch it.

His spending wasn’t in vain as he watched your smile brighten to something he could only describe as bright, causing his pupils to dilate as he watched you smile. Ironically it was Christmas which supposedly made everything about the holiday “Merry and Bright”. But it was odd. Odd how his face heated so much and he wasn’t even close to the heater. His whole body went hot as his back straightened quickly. His palms grew sweatier than normal as sweat dripped down his forehead. A lump suddenly formed in his throat as he watched you jump excitedly around the room, holding the basket he gifted close to your chest. Oggling it with stars in your eyes as you squealed in absolute glee.

He looked down at you as you expressed your absolute glee about his gift and he couldn’t help but smile at you. Not smirk, smile with his dilated pupils and a faint blush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He believed that that moment, the way you looked up at him after jumping around happily, wide-eyed and lips slightly parted, doe innocent e/c eyes staring up at him, long curled lashes batting slowly at him, pink lips parted for a second before widening into the widest, brightest, happiest smile he’d ever seen, he believes that that moment, that exact moment was when his views of you changed. 

At first, you were a nobody, a classmate, then an acquaintance, then somewhat of a friend, and now, his gift for a long holiday during the winter seemed to have sparked something between you two, but what was the cherry on top was your gift to him. A black scarf with two orange stripes crossing into an X as it started from the top and ended at the bottom, along with a rare limited edition golden All-might figure, and two small black beads? Yeah, beads. He looked at you confused as he took the beads out of their small case, which was velvet black and had an orange X on it too.

He peered down at you puzzled, but your warm smile, made him nod his head in thanks. Your small hand carefully grasped his, as your other grabbed the case and opened it revealing the beads once again, carefully taking them out and putting them in your palm. You then looked into his eyes making him hold his breath. What were you doing? Were you going to knee his face? Slap him? What? He then realized you had put the beads in his ear as he heard a slight ringing sound that made him hiss. 

“Sorry! Wrong button!” You apologized as you tapped one of the beads in his ear and all went silent, but not too silent. This noise sounded different.

“These are special kinds of hearing aids. I had Mae Hatsume help me develop them. I had originally asked her to make grenade silencers for your grenade gauntlets, but it was taking much longer to make than we realized, Kirishima had told me that you mentioned your ears ringing sometimes during training or a fight or class and I'm guessing it was because of your explosions, so I wanted to help you with that. Your silencers are still being made, but Hatsume and I made these hearing aids for you, for the meantime. Well she made them I just designed it. They work to block out loud noises but still allow you to hear anything and everything else. They just reduce the loud noise of explosions and such. I-I umm, hope I didn’t offend you with these gifts. I just thought, that maybe, they would help, and you would appreciate them... I don’t know what you like, but, I feel like you would have liked to receive something useful rather than something that would collect dust, I just bought the Allmight figure as a failed backup... Oh! And I made the scarf myself! My grandmother helped me sew it. I-I hope you like them Bakugou! Merry Christmas!” 

That moment was the moment that changed forever. Since then he has followed you around like a lost puppy. You guys hung out 24/7. Like peas in a pod. You both became known as best friends to your classmates and the school. You were always seen together. Never one of you was ever without the other, and he’d grown very used to that. Did you want to go to 7/11? Okay, let's go. Want to try a new restaurant that opened up downtown? Let him grab the scarf you made him, it's a little cold out. Going to a family barbeque, he was invited without hesitation.

Although he was nervous about meeting your family, it ended up being a success. (meaning him beating all your little cousins in Mario Kart and your father and uncles in pool). He had to attend one of his parents' god-awful fashion shows, you're coming with him. You always had to be there, and he was okay with that. Your time together ended up being a normal thing, it was weird when you guys weren’t together. For the both of you.

At first, he just thought that the both of you spending time alone in each other's dorms playing video games or watching shows on Netflix was just a friend thing, you guys were just friends. He said it over and over and over. 

“ Heyyyy kachannnn, you and Y/n huh? Somethin’ special goin’ on there? Huh? Huhhhhh?” Denki nudged Bakugou, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Of course not you dunce, she’s just a friend you moron,”

He convinced everyone including himself you were just a friend. And of course, you were. Everything you guys do is something all friends do! Nothing special about it. That was until he experienced firsthand and realized that you’re both High School students, attending school, training to be heroes, but you attend a HIGH SCHOOL. Teenagers in school, of course, guys were going to be after you. So why was it a shocker when some stupid extra tried to fucking confess in front of him?!

Okay, maybe not in front of him, but in the empty hallway after school hours? Didn’t this moron know you both walk together? Doesn’t this fucking idiot know he doesn’t have a slight chance with you? This guy’s probably 5,5, he’s got black hair that has a lot of dandruff, which makes it look like he has lice, but it's probably from all that gel he has on. He’s got pimples on his forehead and one of his ears looks bigger than the other.

Okay, Bakugou isn’t normally that much of an asshole but come on! This guy’s arms aren’t even close to the size of Bakugou’s waist, and his waist is TINY! He couldn’t help but wait back in class 1-A and overhear what you were going to respond with.

“Huh? You- like me? I’m sorry but I don’t even know you?” You said innocently but truthfully. You were right, you didn’t know this moron, but common, couldn't you just reject his sorry ass already?

“What if you get to know me?” Is he serious? Like hell, Bakugou would let tha-

“Hmm. I’m sorry but I don’t think so. I don’t have time to go on dates right now. I also would have to turn down your offer because I don’t feel like I’d reciprocate your feelings even if we did get to know each other, have a good rest of your day though!” 

“B-But, please! Tell me this, does your heart already belong to someone?” 

Uh oh, now his heart was racing, much more with fear than curiosity.

“That’s my secret to hold and to keep, sorry. Bakugou, you can come on out now!”

“W-What?” He breathed a mere whisper out in shock and surprise.

“Hey Bakugou!” The girl smiled brightly at him. The kind of smile that would make any man or woman swoon over. 

“H-Hey, umm, how did you-” 

“I just knew, plus your massive arms and shoulders were peeking out from behind the trash can Bakugou, you’re not exactly a small person,” You giggled, placing your delicate hand over your mouth as you giggled.

You looked absolutely beautiful. Bakugou’s only wish now is to continue to make you laugh and stifle your giggles for the rest of your lives. Bakugou blushed at your comment. 

“A-anyways, let’s get a move on. 'M starving,” He grumbled as he began to walk past you.

Catching up with him you began conversing with him on the walk to the dorms. The two of you entered and headed to the kitchen where he began to cook food for the two of you. It’s been a normal thing that began after Christmas. The two of you then ate a wonderfully delicious meal. After eating and cleaning up you both headed up to your dorm to study per usual. Once you both entered you flopped onto your bed as Katsuki took a seat on your desk chair and turned it to face your bed instead of the desk, as you both always do. You started up another conversation but after a while noticed that your blonde-headed friend was quiet. To quiet.

Your brow quirked up in interest and confusion as you studied him. His brows furrowed, and his lips formed a small pout as his hands gripped his notebook and pencil tighter than usual. You observed him closely, noticing the difference in his usual expression most would see as his normal cranky self. But to you, you knew something was bothering him. 

“Bakugou,” You called his name softly, catching his attention.

“Hmph.” He grumbled as his eyes glared at his empty notebook paper.

Your brows furrowed more as your concern for your blonde friend grew. 

“Katsuki.” His ears perked at your call of his name.

You could swear you saw them twitch like a dog when called on. He visibly stiffened at your call of his first name as he gulped, causing his Adam's apple to move beautifully. His red ruby eyes stilled as they stayed locked onto the notebook in his hands. His body felt hot and cold at the same time. Nervous. He was nervous and he couldn’t understand why. Katsuki Bakugou was no coward. No pussy. Not one to succumb to fear or nerves but with you, sweet and wonderful you, seem to be the only thing that can make him freeze with just a call of his name. 

“Hmm,” He responded, choosing to hum rather than to speak knowing his voice would fail him. Why was he so, why was he acting like such a moron. He’s always been fine before. Able to pull his shit together around you. When did this happen? When did he become such a loser around you? He had a guess...

“Are…Are you okay?” Your soft voice asked, he swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes flickered up to the bottom half of your seated body and retreated back to his empty notebook, afraid to make eye contact with you.

“ ‘M fine.” 

“Are you?”

“Why you naggin’ me,” He growled as his eyes snapped up to meet yours.

Your beautiful e/c ones. He inaudibly gulped as his sudden annoyed confidence faded under your gaze. Your concerned and saddened eyes broke his stern and aggressive wall. His lips parted to say something but his voice failed to word anything. To be fair he didn’t even know what he wanted to say. What to say?

“L/n-”

“Are you upset with me?”

“Huh-what-?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“What? No, why would you-”

“Then do you hate me? Did I annoy you?”

“What?! Of course not- No you didn’t-” “Then what did I do? You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. You can leave you don’t have to stay with me,”

“L/n hold on-”

“I’m sorry if I annoy you by dragging you to study with me,”

“L/n easy- just let me talk-”

“I’ll stop bugging you if you want. I won’t talk anymore,”

“Y/n!” He called your name firmly with a louder tone. His hand had flown to your face as it covered your mouth.

His face was close to yours as his eyes honed into yours. Soft pools of ruby waters danced in his irises under the dim lights of your desk lamp and fairy lights around your room. You swallowed the lump of nerves caught in your throat as your eyes widened at his action. The space between the both of you was small, your bodies so close you could feel his body heat. His firm yet soft gaze sent shivers down your spine and throughout your body.The sound of his throat clearing was loud within the quiet room causing you to snap out of your little daze.

“Why’d you freak out on me huh?” He asked softly as he removed his hand from your mouth slowly.

He moved to sit down on your bed comfortably. His feet planted on the floor as he hunched his body and titled his head slightly as he looked to his right side at you. With your legs crossed and a hunched back, you turned your head to the left to speak to him.

“I-I don’t know. You’ve just been acting weird today. You’ve been quiet. It worried me.” You answered in a hushed tone. Your eyes were looking down to avoid eye contact. 

You heard him scoff a slight chuckle as your eyes flickered up to see his small smile and his eyes dimmed to a soft gaze. Your head perked up slowly at this newfound expression with curiosity. 

“You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought you were.”

“H-Hey!”

“Y/n, how could I ever hate you?” 

“Oh, I-I don’t know…”

“It’s not possible. You annoying me or upsetting me is most definitely possible-”

“Hey! Asshole-”

“But- hating you can never happen you dummy.” He smiled softly.

Your heart began to beat faster than it ever had before, and you’ve been through multiple wars against villains, and even then your heart had never beat as quickly and harshly as it was now. 

“Never?”

“Tch. Ya heard me the first time nerd.” He smirked. His response caused you to giggle airily. 

“Well, if that wasn’t the problem, then what is it that’s made you act so, weird?”

“So bein’ quiet is weird?”

“Noo but you being quiet is.”

“Well, it’s gonna stay that way.”

“Aren’t I your best friend?” you smiled like a Cheshire cat.

“Yeah, but that’s the-” Before he could finish his sentence a knock was heard at your door causing you both to look towards the noise. 

“What bad timing,” You murmured as you hopped off your bed to go and answer the knock.

“Wait- just let it-”

Before Bakugou could finish his sentence you opened your door to reveal a tall redheaded male smiling down at you nervously.

“Hey L/n, you got a minute?” Kirishima Eijiro. His strong tone was undoubtedly recognizable.

It caused Katsuki to stiffen at the sound as he hid behind your closet wall, blocking his view of the two of you and vice versa. 

“Uhh,” You started as you turned to see Bakugou missing before turning back to Kirishima. 

“Y-Yeah sure,” You stuttered as you stepped out of your room to speak to the male properly, closing your door softly behind you.

Katsuki quickly yet quietly moved to the door as he pressed his ear against it, trying to eavesdrop on you and the redhead's conversation. 

“What’s up?” You asked.

“Uhh, man I don’t know how to ask this… Would you like to go out with me?” Kirishima muttered before he spat quickly. Shutting his eyes as his shoulders stiffened nervously. 

“Oh, is the Baku-Squad hanging out?” You asked innocently and obliviously, not understanding what he was asking. 

“Huh? O-Oh! No, no I mean. Uhh- I would like to take you out…Just us…Like- like a date..” The redhead blushed as his hand scratched the back of his nape nervously.

At the realization, your eyes widened. All thoughts and concerns of Bakugou left as red alarms blared off inside your head. What.Was.Happening. After what felt like forever you closed your opened mouth to salivate the dryness of your throat and lips before opening it again to respond to your close friend before the sound of your door clicking and swinging open interrupted you. 

“She’s busy,” A gruff voice bellowed as a hand grabbed your arm and swung you back into your room. The red-headed male blinked rapidly a few times in confusion at what just happened. 

“Ow, you dick, that hurt!” You shouted as you stumbled to the floor of your room from the sheer force Bakugou threw you in with. The blonde brute just rolled his eyes as he leaned against the wall of your room, crossing his arms over his chiseled pecs. 

“You can’t date him Y/n,” He muttered. His blonde spiky locks cascaded his eyes as he looked towards the ground, avoiding eye contact.

“W-What?” You asked because you missed what he said. 

“You can’t date him…”

“O-Oh, you mean Kirishima?” He didn’t respond, just barely nodded his head once, still avoiding eye contact.

You then got yourself up and off the ground as you slowly and carefully pulled your desk chair to face you as you sat down on it. Your eyebrows creased as you noticed Bakugou’s avoidance of eye contact. 

“And why can’t I?” You asked meekly with slight confusion in your tone. You watched as he gulped and his body stiffened. He’s been doing that a lot tonight, something he never does. 

“Alright, I’m tired of this. If you’re just gonna play dumb every time I ask you something but tell me what I can and can’t do you can just leave Bakugou,” You asserted, arms crossed over your chest and your face held a stern expression. 

At this Katsuki lifted his head quickly to meet your gaze. His mouth parted as his eyebrows creased more with worry in his eyes. What was he doing? You were right. He had no right to prevent your happiness with other males, so why was he doing this? You are his best friend and so is Kirishima.

You both are amazing people and truthfully, you both would make such a great couple. Your chemistry on the battlefield would be incredible let alone your relationship. You both would set the couple standard and he could already picture the billboards of Japan plastering your bodies hugging lovingly with a giant “Japan’s Perfect Hero Couple” printed above your heads. The thought made his head dizzy and his heart constrict painfully.

He was finally understanding that he didn’t want you to have that with Kirishima or anyone but with him. He wanted to be the one jumping from building to building by your side while out on patrols. He wanted to be saving people with you as a perfect duo. He wanted to watch movies in private with a tub of your favorite ice cream to share. He wanted to get you your dream dog and cat for your birthday. He wanted to share his dreams with you as soon as he wakes up and vice versa. He wants to share every Christmas with you and be each others personal Secret Santa for the rest of his days. He wanted this feeling of loneliness when he's not with you to go away and be filled with just you. He doesn’t want these stupid extras to share any of this with you because he-

His eyes widened. His heart stopped for a second as he finally came to a realization. You’re not just a friend. You never were just a friend. Katsuki Bakugou had been in love with you for two Christmases. Two whole years. He followed you around because he loved you. He made mental notes of your favorite things because he loved you. He treasured the scarf you hand-made him because he loved you. He kept his lock screen that you jokingly changed to the both of you posing up as a badass hero duo that you both took in professional side kick photo shoots because he loved you.

Katsuki fucking Bakugou had been in love with you for years and he never realized it until some boys started to try and take you away from him. He needs to make a reminder to smack himself later for realizing so late like a dumbass, but for now, he needs to tell you before he ruins his friendship with you. 

“I’m in love with you,” He voiced.

Your heart stopped. Your body felt like it was on fire and your eyes widened larger than they ever had before. Your skin tingled and your face grew hot. What? What did he say?

“What?” You asked in a hushed tone, not quite sure if what you heard was correct.

“I love you,” He repeated softly, his gaze as soft as when he sleeps. The tips of his lips creak into a smile barely visible.

If anyone were to see him they’d see him loom calm for once, but you, you could see it clear as day, and that ever-so-tiny smile was just about one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. He looked absolutely divine. Your dim room lighting aids in his godlike features.

This boy whom you’ve know for a few years became your everything in mere seconds, and I’m not just talking about this second. Since before your first Christmas together, this boy had been a stranger, then a friend, then a crush, then a crush within a best friend, and now, he’ll be your everything if you let him, because he so desperately wants to be.

“Don’t play with me Bakugou,”

“I’m not. ‘Dya really think I’d just go up to anyone spoutin’ this shit? I’m not a sappy guy everyone in this god damn world knows that, but fuck Y/n, you make me unable to think properly when I’m around you,”

“Is that why you think you’re in love with me?”

“No. I know. I’ve been knowing. Just been an idiot not realizing it sooner,” He muttered the last bit lowly yet still audibly. 

“ ‘M sorry…” He murmured as his hand slowly and carefully not to startle you, came up to gently clasp your hand in his.

His carmine-colored eyes gazed at your hands joined together. His fingers imprinting the feel of yours and engraving into his mind for if you reject him and his feelings, at least he’ll have this in his mind for the rest of his lonely days. You wouldn’t allow that.

The sound of your sniffles causes his head and eyes to snap back up to meet your precious e/c ones. He immediately took notice of your teared-up eyes as he visibly grew stressed.

“Hey, don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Why’re you crying?” He tried comforting you gently as he spoke ever so softly.

His rough palms met your pillowy cheeks as his thumbs reached to rub at your bottom eye socket, trying his best to soothe you.

“ ‘M not crying,” You murmured as you placed your hands on top of his that cradled your face.

Your eyes gazed up into his. The silence was so loud yet quiet. The atmosphere was no longer anxious but tranquil. Finally, finally you had this boy who held your heart all this time. 

“I’m in love with you too…Dummy,” You smiled softly at him.

He scoffed playfully as he inched his forehead to meet yours. He gazed into your eyes and just felt a spark. He leaned forward to get a better angle to press his lips onto yours. His heart and head were no longer in a battle with each other, cuz from the start his heart knew. It was always you…

“Aaaaand with that, my job here is done,” the manly red-headed male grinned as he backed away from your dorm room door. Humming a happy tune as he placed his hands behind his head and walked triumphantly down the hall…

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I hope y'all liked this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you liked this one you also might like another story of mine called “The Dare”. It can be found on my master list! Thank you for reading my story and if you liked it please let me know! I love feedback and it’s what motivates me to write more stories for y'all to enjoy! If any of y'all would like to see me write a specific kind of trope and story line please give me your ideas of what you’d want to read! Thank you and please come again! /^~^/

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[fae-morrigan]

Someone put a post (where they admit they straight up dont know these characters lol, and also spell damian as 'damien' so like. yknow.) in the tags saying that if you're a fan of Jon & Jay, you shouldn't buy super son. Well, as the crowned CEO of Jay & Jon, I'm here to tell you guys that you absolutely should.

Super Son did the amazing thing of hitting several marks that I predicted while still managing to surprise me in how they hit them. Which is high praise for any story: A great narrative should be able to both meet reasonable audience expectations (i.e, staying in character, setup payoff) WHILE STILL throwing in curveballs that tell you something new.

There's a lot I want to analyze and get into, namely how I think the rooftop conversation between Jon & Nia is really brilliantly done in what it says about both characters, but mainly I've been thinking a lot about how great those last few pages were and how I think Sina absolutely nails how Jon & Jay's specific issues interact with each other.

Jay's always been a blunt person. From their first meeting back in SOKE 2, hes said what he thinks, and rarely does he try and soften himself. More than that, his bluntness is often a shield from vulnerability, which Jay struggles with the whole scene. It makes total sense, after what hes experienced (re-traumatization at the hands of a friend) that he's displaying that trait again.

Jon, however, is immediately vulnerable. This is the most poignant confession of the issue: Not even in the amazing sequence of Nia helping him make a place in the darkness (look, its back, thanks isabel!) do we get this admission of fear.

And Jay, like always, embraces him. Sidenote, LOVE how they got in the thing Jon does where he's constantly tucking his face in people's shoulders during hugs.

But the moment ends, and we get here. First of all, cold af. I could feel the aura before I turned the page.

Second of all: Jay is totally valid in feeling this way. And it makes perfect sense that he would.

Sara was his everything. Getting her back was one of his main motivations in SOKE. Because of Nia's actions, she died horribly (do you know what happens to a person when they fall from that sort of height? I do. Its AWFUL.) for an unjust cause. Of course he's glad she can't hurt anyone else!

And that's when we get to my FAVORITE PART! Oh how I love this bit. Because like. You understand why Jon's angry- Its a harsh thing for Jay to say! Nia was the one who kept him sane while he was trapped in his own mind! But Jay, like always, is RIGHT: Jon DOESN'T get it. How could he?

Jon Kent will NEVER, ever, be put in this position. Out of universe, his parents are Clark Kent and Lois Lane. They'll ALWAYS come back. Hell, the fact they'll always come back is something Ma LITERALLY says to Jon in SOKE. He will never, ever have to know this pain.

In universe, Jon's a white american. Despite being queer, despite being an alien, he'll never know what its like to be this kind of collateral, delegated as pawns in a greater war for 'freedom'. That is what killed Sara at the end of the day: imperialism.

This next bit hurts my heart. Great job, guys!

For one: Jon claims he's not excusing the mistakes Nia made, but by downplaying it like this... yes he is. But did you catch that part? Right at the start of that bubble?

"I'm going to fight every day to make up for my own part in this."

That's where it clicked for me. Something I had been hoping for since Nicole first called them twin flames.

He's projecting.

Of COURSE he's defending Nia. Of COURSE he wants Jay to forgive her. It isn't just about the fact that she gave him support, it isn't just the dreams, its the fact that... well. If Jay can't forgive her... how could he EVER forgive HIM?

THIS is where the fact that Jon and Nia are so similar as character SINGS. They become mirrors to each other, evaluating their own self worth through the other, at the unintentional expense of the people they've hurt.

Jay's right, though. Again. Its almost like he's the embodiment of the truth or something. He doesn't HAVE to do anything.

When he starts crying though, I immediately was RUINED. This is the first time we have EVER seen him cry before during his entire existence of a character. And its not really even because his mom is dead (though yes, that) and its not even because of the argument. Its because Jay fundamentally wants to be understood, and he's not getting that.

Which is important for the next bit:

I want to first backtrack a bit to Son of Kal El again, specifically, issue fourteen, right here.

Hello, two-panel sequence that succinctly describes these two as characters. How convenient you are for me, a guy analyzing a work that isn't written prose.

Jon isn't good at letting go, for better or for worse. The things he cares about stay with him, and when something or someone tries to exit his life, he clings to them with all his might.

Jay however, both selflessly and selfishly, is willing to let go first if he thinks its better for the other person. To me this line so effortlessly summarizes who Jay is- he's a person who's accustomed to not having things, and will leave before it hurts and he gets too attached.

And that thought is ALL over this scene. Jay, who begins to let go, Jon, who both literally and physically CLINGS to jay, practically begging him to stay.

(Sidenote. This is like, the third time Jay mentions breaking up when Jon starts acting up. Good for you king, keep that white boy on his toes, let him know he ain't all that.)

Every little detail of this four panel sequence is killing me. "My worst nightmare is not having a home with you in it." His greatest desire. The thing that kept tipping him off in every fake reality Nia constructed for him- Jay's absence. Him wiping the tear of Jay's cheek. Jay walking away from him.

But what really gets me is how on this page, Jon talks about them as 'we', while Jay is firmly stuck in 'I.'

This is what made me LOSE MY MARBLES at three in the morning. Just utterly fucking off my rocker in a straightjacket talking to myself.

Because this is what JON wants. But is it what JAY wants?

Jon never asks.

What about what Jay fears? What about the life that HE wants? What if he doesn't want San Francisco? What if the life he wants is the life he HAD before everything went wrong? Jon outright says he wants a fresh start. But Jay, Jay's someone with such deep connections to what he just lost, what he likely WANTS to get back. His country. His mother. His sense of self. But. He says yes.

(Sidenote. FIRST I LOVE YOU WOOOOOOOOOO) To quote my buddy Dami: Oh, the drama of needing a future with someone who can't get over the past.

It is left unclear, by the end, whether or not Jay is saying yes to this because he genuinely wants to, or if he's only saying yes because he doesn't want to lose Jon, too. Jon doesn't stop to question whether or not Jay's only reaching after him because Jon's walking away. We, the audience, are left to ponder that for ourselves.

How much of Jay saying yes is him just accepting that this is the best he's going to get? That he's never going to be understood because nobody wants to understand?

He's an afterthought to Nia, an obstacle at best, and to Jon he's a particularly handsome prop in this little fantasy he has of running away and starting new. He's either not thought of at all, or when he is thought about, it's in the context of how he can emotionally fulfill the other person And you get why Jon did this. He's desperate, he's hurting, he just got tangible evidence that the time he has with the people he loves isn't ever guaranteed. He's been needing space from Clark and Lois for MONTHS because god knows they haven't been fulfilling his emotional needs. In a very real sense, Jay is who he has.

But wanting someone to stay with you so much that you'll... Not even ignore, but just not ever consider what they may want. The intentional isolation, moving halfway across the country away from all support systems. The need to cling to someone.

It reminds me of... something. Someone.

Don't tell Jon I made this comparison. He'll kill himself. Jon and Ultraman ARE similar. They're both such deeply lonely people who cling very tightly and even though it manifests in different ways and even though they have different core thoughts about it. The effect at the end of the day is the same, isn't it?

Is loving Jay not a brutal act of destruction?

There's so many more details about this story I love. Jon & Nia's conversation being vague enough that you have no idea how Jon meant what he told her but you KNOW how NIA took it (girl you can do better hes literally ugly!). Jon breaking a pillar by bonking his head against it (LMFAO). The pretty lies vs ugly truth dichotomy of Jay vs Nia here.

But this one scene, man. This one fucking scene takes the cake. STELLAR work all around. Every panel counts.

This better lead into a full Superman & Gossamer run or SOMETHING or I'm going to have WORDS with DC's editorial staff.

[delopsia]

nosedive | rhett abbott x reader

Word Count: 18,900 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader. Storm chasers AU, Kate, and Tyler appear but are so inconsequential that they can be read as OC's. You do not need to watch Twisters to understand and read this fic! Arguing, brief food mentions, undisclosed past trauma, storm chasing, vehicle accidents, anxiety attacks, friends to lovers, grinding, unprotected sex, includes a sketch that I traced from stock photos I stitched together. Brief Summary: You swore off storm chasing a long time ago. You haven't been able to look at that old truck since the accident, and if you could have your way, you'd never think about that part of your life ever again. You've moved on. Every time you touch that damn truck, something goes wrong. But when your friend and her so-called business partner become wrapped up in a never-ending quarrel, it's Rhett who becomes your biggest supporter. You think you're beginning to remember why you used to love this. How you used to live for your out-of-this-world builds and ideas. Or maybe…just maybe, you're beginning to fall in love with something that isn't a truck.

"So, at what point are we going to tell them?"

"What would that be?" Speaking with the straw against your lips, seconds away from taking another sip of that cheap gas station coffee. "That I'm the one who keeps filling Rhett's truck with tiny ducks?"

"No," Kate's eyes roll, her head shaking ever so slightly, not quite ready to admit to her part in it. "About Dallas."

A gust of wind blows past. Entirely invisible to the eye, and yet you catch Kate's head following as it twists through the field, the wheat rippling in waves. Strange how something you can't even see can cause so much trouble, ripping up the garage roof, blowing Rhett's hat down the driveway, and taking that long-awaited Amazon package across the lawn.

Worse, it blows your straw around, leaving you to gape like a fish as you blindly try to find it again. "Do we even want to tell them?"

Her brow furrows. Confused.

"You can't convince me it's not entertaining to watch them puff up like a bunch of peacocks when we mention him," you can't help but giggle, memories flickering through your head like a slideshow. Rhett grumbling about Dallas under his breath. Tyler pulling up his YouTube channel to prove he's done bigger things than this Dallas guy ever could. Overhearing them griping about him in the hotel gym. "Can you imagine the look on their faces when they finally see him?"

A smile bursts onto her face. "You drive a fair point."

Something clangs to the left. Appearing so suddenly that both of your heads swivel toward it.

Speak of the devil.

Rhett and Tyler. Hauling some kind of unnamed contraption to the trucks. You're pretty sure that it's supposed to put extra weight on the chassis to prevent them from being blown around as easily. Rhett's been muttering about having to build a new one ever since his original build cracked a few days ago.

If you weren't distracted, you think you would be able to recall more of the details, but all you can focus on is...

"Are they allergic to shirts?" Kate chirps after a long moment, but she's not making any effort to peel her eyes away.

Neither are you. Too wrapped up in the way Rhett's bicep flexes as he readjusts his grip on the steel frame. Not quite as bulky as Tyler, but he's got a wiriness to him that almost seems to hypnotize you, stuck staring until you run the risk of being caught. "Are we complaining?"

"Absolutely not," and you only peel your gaze away when you realize that they're walking toward your little afternoon coffee party. You're not dealing with the misery that is Tyler's cockiness again.

Kate's got the same idea, her cheeks dusted with a subtle shade of pink that wasn't there a few seconds ago. Something flickers behind her eyes, the same kind of glint you're used to seeing when she's caught the trail of a brewing storm, but she doesn't say anything.

You wonder if this new frame means they'll focus on upgrading those drills next. Anchoring two feet into the ground was likely an impressive feat when they first installed that onto the rigs, but the technology has progressed so much further since then. Longer augers would be a start, twisting deeper into the earth, harder to be ripped out by high winds. 

"So, do you know when Dallas is coming in?" Kate asks once the boys are within earshot, like she doesn't know the answer to her own question.

Rhett's head perks. Tyler peeks over his sunglasses.

"Few more days, I think," feigning interest in your drink, swirling the straw in circles, anything to pretend that you haven't noticed them yet. "Sunday at the latest."

"Dallas!" Tyler crows. So loud and sudden that you jolt in your seat. "Finally comin' to meet us, huh?"

Rhett peeks at you through the corner of his eye, either too focused on the task at hand or not quite bold enough to match Tyler's antics. Even from a distance, it's difficult to miss the way his gaze rakes up and down your frame as if transfixed by your pajama shorts and the beauty that is your half-awake face.

"He was supposed to be here earlier, but..." motioning toward the empty beer can blowing past. Budweiser's aluminum version of a tumbleweed. "Another wind delay."

Tyler scoffs, the heel of his boot thunking against the can and sending it flying. "How many more times is he gonna use that excuse?"

"As many times as he wants," Kate's stolen the words right out of your mouth, her shoulders shrugging as she turns her attention back to her cell phone.

Wind howls in your ear, rolling the ballpoint pen across the table and right into your cup. It tips before you can even comprehend what's happening, the remnants of your coffee spilling into the dirt. 

"I reckon that's my sign to head inside," you sigh, defeated. This battle was lost the moment you quit paying attention to your drink.

There's not much for you to gather, but nature herself had might as well be interfering with your every move. Blowing the cup toward the garage, rustling your notebook pages when you scoop it up, the pen jumping off the edge of the table just to rub salt into the wound. It's not bothering anything else, not Kate's hair, not the dumb hat on Tyler's head, just your things.

Talk about a personal vendetta.

At least the garage has never betrayed you like this. Cozy and windless, albeit a bit dusty, depending on the day of the week and what project Rhett is working on. The loveseat tucked into the far right corner is much softer than that sunbleached wooden chair, the beaten cushions enveloping you in a loose hug. The thick armrest is the perfect size to fit your notebook. Doesn't have you trying to cram yourself into an itty bitty space. 

And with the back of the couch being up against the wall, there's no opportunity for someone to mosey up and peek at your notes, either. 

The side of the pen is dented, the groove creating the perfect space for your finger to settle into as you begin to draw. This must be the pen that you forgot on the roof of your car and wound up driving overtop of. 

Ink drips from the tip in spurts, scattering across the page in small, ugly blotches. What's supposed to be your delicate sketchings of an idea are starting to look more and more like an interpretive art piece in a museum. Is it a component for one of the storm vehicles, or is there an underlying message about the beauty of mistakes and brokenness?

Whatever. The answer only matters if it's attached to a big, fat check from a private collector looking to hang it next to a myriad of other, questionably produced works. 

"Whatcha ya doin' over there?" Rhett's voice echoes through the garage, seems to come from so many directions that you don't realize where he is until you spot him in your peripheral. Red dirt and grease smeared across his forearms, sweat glistening in the overhead light. You already know he doesn't smell the best, but you can't say you hate the sight of him.

Your pen drifts across the paper once more, streaking through a blob of collected ink in your efforts to build the general shape of a truck. "Sketching." 

It's such a bland reply. Shouldn't intrigue him in the slightest, and yet you can hear the soft thunk of his boots against the cement floor, drawing closer. "Sketchin' what?" 

"A fantasy for an advanced anchoring system," your pen darts across the metal arms, extending from the roof of the truck, one on the passenger side and one on the driver, anchored into the ground. "Buildable, but it's not a feasible idea." 

The light reflects off of his rodeo buckle. Amelia County's bull riding champion. "Can I see?"

You're not sure why he wants to look at your fantasy sketches, but you don't have the energy nor the will to tell him no. Certainly not when he's bending down next to you, so close that his bicep bumps into your arm, hot and swollen from hauling around that heavy frame. You're making no effort to move away, either. If anything, you're moving closer, turning the notebook for him to see.

As if to guide his thoughts, his index finger traces across the lines, grease-stained and so, so much thicker than yours. "What's makin' ya think it won't work?"

"It's not realistic." Easy answer. There's a reason why nobody else has done this. 

But Rhett's head just tilts to the side, a thought visibly crossing his mind. You know it's there; can see it glisten in his eyes as it passes by. "Yes, it is." 

You feel the tug of your arm and the warmth of his hand around your wrist before you realize that he's pulling you up from the couch. There's a creak in your knee as you rise, helplessly stumbling after him.

"What are you doing?" You're chirping, but Rhett doesn't reply, too dead set on hauling you to the other side of the room.

He spins. So do you. The garage blurs into streaks of gray.

Then your back bumps into his sweaty chest, and you're staring at...a newly built drill for the frame. 

"Does this look unrealistic to you?" His voice rumbles straight through you, low as the thunder that you've spent too much of your life chasing. 

"Well...no," you croak after a long moment, "but you already know that it—"

"What about that?" His hand darts out, pointing toward the old radar, built out of scrap material and the sheer power of will. It doesn't work anymore, not after that hunk of debris split it down the middle, but it did for a good few weeks. 

Rhett isn't waiting for you to reply, already pointing toward another contraption. The roll cage, and the rest of the steel exoskeleton frame that hasn't been welded onto Tyler's truck. Then he's guiding your attention to the windshield and window cages; lord knows those glass replacements are getting expensive. The armor plating that has yet to be welded to the vehicles, the reinforced overhead spotlights, the custom grill guards, and all of the little, unnamed crafts that you have yet to see in action.

"None of this was feasible, either," his words are solid, fleeting things, dancing around your head like words from the gods above, "but we still gave it a shot." 

A puff of air breaks past your lips. 

All of that happened long before you and Kate stumbled across them crammed into the corner of a Waffle House. Their trucks were already built. Field tested beyond belief. But...well, you suppose his ideas had to have started the same way yours do, a random thought that evolved out of control until it became a reality.

"Your ideas are no more unrealistic than these were," Rhett murmurs, and it almost sounds like he's sharing a secret. A whimsical little thought meant to stay between the two of you.

...maybe he has a point. 

You turn, twisting to face him. The tips of your noses bump. Piecing blue eyes staring right back into yours, wide as can be. Too close. Way too close. But you don't make any effort to move, and neither does he. He should. Fuck, any closer, and you'd be kissing him, can already taste his minty toothpaste on his breath. 

"Rhett!" Boone's voice arcs across the room like lightning, sends you jumping apart as if struck by it. "You fixin' to bring that upper frame or what?" 

Whatever that moment was, it's gone in an instant. 

Your head comes so close to hitting the ceiling that you can feel it graze past. Seatbelt cinching tight around your chest. Ass bouncing against the seat. Struggling to keep both your hands on the shivering plastic handle overhead. Something clatters across the floor, landing in the mess of components and contraptions that met their maker three bumps ago.

You'd complain, but Tyler's rollercoaster of a truck looks even worse than whatever the hell you just experienced. 

"I'm shocked this old truck has survived this long," you're trying to sound calm, but it comes out resembling a yelp more than anything else. "I remember you driving to high school with this thing." 

Rhett's hands flutter across the wheel, a wave of mud kicking up from under the back tires. "These ol' ranch trucks last forever if you take care of 'em."  

"Doesn't care involve things like...not driving into ditches?" Your shoulder presses against the glass, sliding around as the truck veers to the left, loosely chasing Tyler's messy trail. 

"Probably," he laughs, "but we survived, didn't we?" 

"I'm not too sure about that," frankly, you think half of your soul may still be sitting on the road, milliseconds away from experiencing the horror of Rhett's truck diving into the ditch.

"Oh, c'mon," his hand darts out, nudging your arm, "ya worry too much."

You haven't forgotten about the clouds twisting up ahead, downward spiraling, growing thinner and thinner as it nears the earth. A plume of red dirt rises, staining what was once a perfect, white funnel cloud. Wind squeals around the edges of the truck, wedging its way through the nonexistent gaps between the windows and wailing in your ear. 

Tyler's truck rips straight into the center, unhindered by the mud and soybean plants being hurled against it. There's already a drone dancing around the upper part of the funnel, bobbing and weaving, serves as the eyes for however many people are watching the live stream it's broadcasting. 

Rhett's a little more conservative, looping out to the side and into the path of the tornado instead. Leaves scatter across the windshield, wedging beneath the windshield wipers. But the nose of the truck turns to face the cyclone, and the wind is already beginning to tear them away. 

"Wanna press the button?" You can hardly hear him. Only realize he's talking when you notice his mouth moving.

You're already reaching out, pressing the little green button on the dash. 

The drills whir to life, entirely inaudible, but it's impossible to miss their vibration as they dig down into the soil, the truck gradually sinking lower. 

One blink and the world around you turns to dust. The little ranch truck shivers under the battering of the wind; feels like you're going to blow away at any moment, but nothing around you is moving. 

Hesitant, you peek out the passenger window up at the tornado overhead. It's almost calm. A little quieter now. The crystal sky peeks through the twirling clouds, and if you tilt your head just right, it kind of looks like one of Rhett's gentle blue eyes. 

Rhett's elbow nudges yours as you settle back into your seat. 

You know what he's going to say before he's even opened his mouth. 

"Now, is this more fun than it is with Dallas?" Always comparing your ventures together to what you've done in the past, like he's aiming to jump up to the top of your 'Best Experiences' list.

"Nah," repeating the same thing you always tell him. He should have expected this answer from a mile away. "Dal still has ya beat."

His eyes roll, but he laughs nonetheless. Defeated again. "One of these days, I'm—"

Bang.

The truck jumps. 

Something sharp scatters across your face. Wind screams in your ears. 

The world flips on its head. Upside down. Rightside up. Upside down again. It jars you so hard that your teeth snap together, head smacking against the seat, and there's something yanking against your chest, and your ears are popping and, and, and—

You should have known that was coming. 

Why didn't you know that was coming?

You don't feel the pressure on your shoulders until it's gone. Replaced with something warm that you can't identify. Can't think to try and identify where it's coming from. Something about your head doesn't feel right, but it doesn't hurt. Tickles. Like something is running down the side of it.

The truck flipped. How did the truck flip? 

Fuck.

You, from three years ago, would have seen that coming from a mile fucking away. How have you gotten worse at the one thing you're supposed to be good at? You should've checked the drills, the circuits, the wires. Why didn't you run through any of the safety checks before you left? What if the tornado had been stronger? Sucked you up and spit you out several hundred feet into the air? 

Did you not learn from the last time? 

This was entirely avoidable.

There's something muttering near you. Sounds like thunder in a strange sort of way. Deep rumbles, rolling in one ear and out the other. But thunder doesn't pause in the middle of its booming, not like this. 

"We're okay."

Your throat is so raw that you can hardly speak. Dry, too. Chest heaving, sucking in air faster than your lungs can handle it. What, what...what...

"We're okay," Rhett. That's Rhett's voice in your ear. "We're okay." 

And he keeps saying it. Over and over, like he's trying to convince himself just as much as he's trying to convince you. But it's not working. You're still shivering, and his voice is lodging in his throat, and...

Your head goes dark. 

You don't necessarily know if you pass out or if your memory decided to stop writing things down. 

One moment, you're in the truck, and the next, you're sitting in the middle of a hospital room, squinting as a nurse shines a blinding light directly into your eye. She hums something to the woman next to her, then turns the light off. 

There's a spot in your vision now. Dead center, lingering as you turn your head to look at whoever is sitting next to you, entirely blocking out their face. Their hand over top of yours, thumb swiping idly across your skin, back and forth in a rhythm that you haven't figured out yet.

"What failed?" You know it's your voice, can feel your mouth shaping around the words, but it sounds nothing like you. 

"Hm?" Rhett's hum nearly disappears amongst the commotion going on around you. 

"The truck," trying again, a little more specific now. "What went wrong back there?"

Stitches line his forearm, probably sliced open by the same thing that left the cuts on the left side of his cheek. Glass from the shattered windshield, you think. 

"You'll never believe this," he leans closer like he doesn't want anyone else to hear what he's about to say. "We got hit by a tree."

That doesn't... "A...tree?" Parroting him. You're expecting for him to furrow his brows and ask how in the world you've managed to mishear him, but all he does is nod. You heard him perfectly. 

All of that was because of a tree hitting the side of the truck. Probably struck hard enough to rip the drills from the ground and gave the tornado all the leverage it needed to start throwing you around like a children's toy.

...huh. 

"Hey, is there a lug wrench sittin' over there?" Rhett asks, his foot kicking out toward the tool cabinet as if to try and point you toward it. Whatever he's doing up under the truck, he must not be able to see that you're already standing in front of the damn cabinet. 

You already see them, sitting amongst the mess of tools resting on top of it. "You've got two." 

His head pokes out from the side. "I do?"

"One is silver, the other is black," lifting them both for him to see. You don't see a difference between them; they both do the same thing, but you're not the one needing them.

"Give me..." his lips purse, "the black one."

You bend down, handing the tool off to him, but the silver one is still in your other hand. "Remind me again what drawer these belong in?"

He taps the thing against his chin. "Any of the middle ones is fine." 

"And here you wonder why you can never find anything," you tease, an ache blooming in your chest as you laugh, still a bit sore from being rolled around like Mother Nature's bowling ball.

Something metal hits the floor, audibly rolling away. A bolt, you think. Rhett swears, boots squeaking as he clambers out from beneath the vehicle. "'ts hard to stay organized when ya share a garage with someone like Tyler."

"That bad?" You would look to see what he's chasing, but organizing this mess is higher on your priority list. 

There's so much junk on the top of this cabinet that you can't figure out what is what, in such a disarray that it seems to swallow up everything you sit on top of it. Somewhere in here is your ten-millimeter socket. 

Kate's voice echoes from outside, loud enough for you to hear her but not enough for you to understand her. Tyler shouts back, the slam of a truck door punctuating whatever he has to say. You think he's still talking when Kate blurts something that sounds like an "I don't care!" Tyler doesn't seem to like that at all.

You turn to look at Rhett right as he does the same. Defeat. Confusion. An overall look of being absolutely done with hearing it from them. You recognize it all; you're feeling the same damn thing. 

And here you thought you'd found a place to escape from them.

"Are those two ever gonna get together?" Rhett whines after a moment. 

Your head shakes, "Kate's got a strict 'no dating business partners' clause." 

They're getting closer now, slowly but surely carrying their argument to the garage. You're not sure why. Everyone was there when the argument started in the restaurant, gradually clearing all of you out of the booth with to-go boxes and a migraine to boot. 

Rhett reaches through the open truck window, pressing the garage door opener. With a groan, it starts to close, taking away your fresh midnight air but granting more silence in return. "Does that rule apply to you, too?"

"I'm not sure," you'd never actually...considered if you were wrapped up in that law or if it was Kate-exclusive. "Why?"

Rhett's eyes dart away. 

Have his ears been red this whole time? Or maybe it's a trick the light is playing on you because it seems to disappear as he rushes toward the side door, sliding the deadbolts into place and twisting the locks. 

There's no way that he's... "Are you seriously locking them out?" 

"Do you wanna hear them argue for another hour?" He doesn't need for you to answer that; he already knows the answer. "Get me that padlock off the table."

Padlock. Shit, where did you last see that?

There's so much on this table. Jumper cables. Tools. Tools. More tools. Bolts. A box of nails. Your missing socket. A chocolate candy wrapper. Tootsie rolls. Another box of nails. Shit, is that a broken phone case? You push your hands through the mess, shoving it all to the side, but you don't see it. Where is it? Where is it? 

Someone knocks on the garage door. Rattling across the garage.

Fuck, fuck, where is it? You don't see—

There it is.

You don't feel it in your grasp until you're halfway across the room. Shoving it into Rhett's open hands. The garage door rattles. But Rhett's shoving the hook through a hole in the tracks, squeezing it closed until it clicks. 

"Are y'all in there?" Tyler's muffled voice is the last thing you want to hear. 

Something moves in the window. 

Your body moves on its own. Grabbing Rhett by the bicep. Diving toward the couch. 

He's too big to be tumbling after you, but he does, the loveseat squealing as he lands on top of you. An elbow finds its way into your ribs. Your knee slots between his thighs. His hair is in your face, and you can smell the vanilla of his cologne, and his hand is on your waist—

"Rhett?" Tyler tries again. Knuckles tap at the window. 

You know they can't see you. If they could, then they would be calling you out on it. 

This couch isn't wide enough for you and Rhett to be lying on it like this, your shoulder hanging off the edge, his knees awkwardly bent to make room for your legs. He's finding a way to make it work, though. Wedging himself up against the back cushion, granting you enough room to roll onto your side without falling off. 

You're not sure if you want to comment on the arm that drapes around your waist, securing you to him. 

"I entirely forgot about the window," he whispers. Does he think Tyler can hear him talking from outside? 

Laughing, you tap him on the nose. "I know you did." 

So much of his hair has fallen into his face that you can no longer see his expression, concealed under a mass of unruly, brunette curls, untamable by any means of the word. He can very well push it out of the way himself, but for some reason, you find that your hand is beginning to do that for him. Collecting locks of it with your fingers, sorting them to their respective sides, tucking some of it behind his ear. 

"Watcha doin'?" He asks as you unveil his hidden eye. It looks bluer than it was before.

Your touch falters. "I wanted to see your face." 

"Yeah?" The corner of his lip lifts a little. 

"Yeah." Nodding. 

And your hand just...falls onto his cheek. Idly resting there, like this is exactly where it belongs, where it's always gone after you've finished fixing his hair. 

Worse. He doesn't make any effort to stop you, lets your thumb swipe up and down his skin, meandering across the tiny cuts that linger there. If you didn't know any better, you would think he nicked himself while shaving, but there are far too many of them for that. Too high, too. There's even one up beside the corner of his eye.

"No!" Even the garage door isn't enough to muffle Kate's voice. "We're not doing that, Tyler!"

Tyler isn't quite as loud. You can hear the general sound of his voice, carrying through a sentence or two, but you can't make out a single word. 

"Because—because it's ridiculous," Kate's still going. Tyler says something a bit louder.

You don't know when Rhett started moving, but all of a sudden, you're way too aware of how close his face is getting. Inching closer and closer until...

He rubs his nose against yours. Slow little motions that don't stop until you can no longer fight off your smile.

"What're you doing?" You giggle, making no real effort to stop him. 

He's too close for you to see his mouth, but you recognize the way that the corners of his eyes turn upward with his grin. "Distractin' ya." 

It must be working because you no longer have the capacity to think about what's going on in the driveway. His hand smooths up your back, making its way up to your face, and he's so warm, heat radiating off his palm like he's got a small fire burning in his veins. Rough fingertips brush against your cheek, hesitant to make any solid contact. 

"Your cheek is still swollen," his palm gradually comes to flatten against your cheek, his hand so big that it seems to cover your entire face. 

Kate's voice echoes in the back of your head. No dating business partners. But something about his touch...it's addicting. "Well, that's what happens when you get thrown around by a tornado." 

He doesn't seem to have much else to say to that. 

To be fair, you don't know what you would say to that, either. 

His thumb swipes across the upper portion of your cheek. Your fingers find their way down to his jaw, pushing through the stubble there. It's soft, has had time to lose the stiffness that comes with being recently shaved. 

It seems that you may have finally lost Kate and Tyler; you don't hear them bickering outside, at least. You lift your head, craning to look over the arm of the couch and at the door. The window is impossible to see from this angle, but you get the feeling that they're no longer standing outside. 

"What's that?" You ask, nodding toward something that you know he can't see.

Rhett's fingers trace their way over to the shell of your ear, not interested in trying to look at what you're asking him about. "Hm?"

"The little contraption sitting next to the door," clarifying, "it looks like a bunch of pipes welded together."

"Oh, that's...supposed to be a tree to hold a bunch of different instruments," he tilts his head back a little, realizes he can't see anything without sitting up, then immediately lets himself fall back against the couch. "I can get everythin' on it, but I can't get it to stay on."

"Industrial glue and steel hose clamps." You have to pause for a moment, sifting through dusty memories, trying to recall how you used to protect Kate's old contraptions. "Maybe build a thin cage around it in case those two things fail."

Rhett's quiet again, his brows knitting together. 

Is he confused, or is he just thinking about what you said? 

It takes him some time to find his words, half-built sentences flickering behind his eyes. You can practically hear the gears turning up in his head. And then, hestiant, his lips part. "I feel like you know a lot more 'bout storm chasin' than you let on."

Something in your lower belly twists. "What's telling you that?"

"You're confident when you're in here," he doesn't need any more time to think on this, his thoughts flowing off his tongue like a waterfall, "most of the folks who walk in here don't have the slightest clue what we're building, but you recognize almost all of it." 

Your eyes dart away, looking down at your intertwined legs, bent and crammed onto this tiny little couch. His fingers curl around your jaw, gently guiding you to look him in the eye.

For reasons unbeknownst to you, you don't fight him on it. 

"You draw up some of the coolest concepts I've ever seen, you...you..." the corner of his lip wobbles up and down. The sight of it makes your head feel funny. "Shit, you make me feel like I'm not the only person here who knows how to do this kind of stuff." 

You suppose you should have expected this. It takes one to know one, and you haven't done yourself any favors by always working with him in this dingy old garage. But you don't entirely know how to respond to that or where you should even start...

"I used to work on an old storm truck that Kate and I owned," it comes out so easily that it almost surprises you, "but that was...god, that was forever ago."

Rhett's eyelashes flutter, his head tilting like that of a curious puppy. "Why'd you never tell me?" 

Shattered glass. The snap of hydraulics splitting in half. Blood blurring your vision. Ear-splitting howling. The world flipping on its head. Rain in your eyes. Steel digging through your back. Your chest tightens. Hail pounding into your skull. The screaming. It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault. 

And you're...warm. 

"'m sorry," Rhett murmurs, and you don't know when he got so close, but you can feel the vibration of his voice against your nose. A careful hand smooths up your back, another arm securing you to him, tucked up under his chin, shielded from the glaring openness of this too-big garage.

He doesn't move, and neither do you. But this time...this time, you think you know why. 

Rubber squeals against the pavement, so shrill that it soars above the roar of the engine. Your shoulder slams into the window, seat belt cinching tight as everything spins into a blur. 

"Tyler!" Kate yelps.

"Kate!" Tyler. Ever so mocking.

"You're gonna get another ticket." Her hand darts out, smacking his arm. Tyler's got something clever to say about that; you don't hear any of it. If you start listening now, you'll have a migraine before the funnel cloud touches the ground.

Rhett meets your gaze out of the corner of his eye. Telepathy must be real because you know exactly what's running through his head.

Here we go again. 

If you'd known this would start up again, then you probably would have faked an illness to stay home. A headache, an upset stomach, or a sudden onset of death that will miraculously cure itself when the storm chase ends. Anything.

Tires squeal again, the truck seeming to tip onto its front wheels. The seatbelt yanks on your shoulders, throwing you back into the seat. Rhett's phone smacks against the console. A scattering of papers, nameless weather instruments, and unlit rockets scatter across the floor. 

Wind rocks the vehicle back and forth. Squealing through the crack in the window like a kettle boiling over. Or maybe you're just hearing things because nobody else seems to hear it. Tyler's shouting into his camera. Kate's rattling something off about how the tornado is forming directly above the town you're driving through.

A wave of rain pelts the windshield. Hail pattering on the roof. Something silver flies past the nose of the truck, striking the building to your right. The brick splinters, debris falling like rain. Kate yells something. Tyler shouts back at her.

"Hang on, hang on," Rhett jumps in his seat, blindly smacking his hand on the console, looking at something you can't see, "stop the truck."

But Tyler is saying something into the CB radio, veering the truck to the right with one hand. Kate doesn't lift her head from the scanner. And they're still fucking arguing. You don't know if they even hear Rhett over the clash of their own voices, nevermind the storm.

Rhett yanks on the door handle. It peels open, rain spewing through the gap. "Ty, stop the damn truck!" 

"Rhett?" You yelp. Scrambling.  "Rhett, wait!" 

You can't stop him. 

He's jumping out of the truck before it's even stopped moving. Bricks and sheet metal hurl past. The door slams closed. You don't see where he went. Where is he? Where did he-where did he go? Why is the truck still moving—

"Stop the goddamn truck!" Screaming so loud that it doesn't even sound like you. 

The truck lurches. The seatbelt rips the air from your lungs. Taking it off is the last thing you should be doing, but it's already unclipped. Papers crunch as you scurry into Rhett's seat. Wind beats against the door. Does everything in its power to keep you from forcing it to open. You can't see a thing. Not even with the damn door halfway open.

"Where's Rhett?" 

You don't know which of them asked that. You don't care to figure that out. "If you two could stop fighting for two fucking seconds, then maybe you would know!" 

It's like someone flipped a switch. The wind and rain just...dies. There's a reason for that, a term and definition that Kate probably memorized in college, but you're not sticking around to hear it. Slipping out of the truck, you dart out into the mist. Fog already licks at your heels, so humid that it feels like you're wearing a second skin out here.

"Rhett?" Calling out. 

You don't see him. There's nothing but debris and disheveled produce stands, all the cracked open watermelons and runaway apples in the world, but no cowboy. But where did he... Turning around. Where did he get out of the truck? It was further back than this. Yeah. He must be further down the road. 

"Rhett?" You're trying again, toeing through the mess. 

There goes the rain again. Starting up so quickly that you wonder if Mother Nature accidentally pressed pause on her remote. Something carries over the rumbling thunder. Something that sounds like your name.

You hear him, but you don't see him. "Rhett?" 

"I'm over here." He's already walking toward you, must have seen you coming before you even realized where he was. The rain thickens, but you can see the rip in his shirt clear as day, blood pouring from his shoulder like the water falling from the heavens. 

"God, Rhett—don't do that!" It comes out a little too loud. A little too quick. "You can't just go hopping out moving vehicles—"

He throws his hands behind him, gesturing at something. "She needed help!" 

You hadn't seen the little old lady standing on the other side of the road until now, being helped back into the safety of an untouched house. You suppose that's who he's talking about, but... "And what if something happened to you?" 

"Nothin's gonna happen to me!" Thunder booms behind his words. Just as irritated as he is. 

Your hand flies out, gesturing to his bloody arm. "Clearly, it already did. Look at your shoulder, Rhett!" 

"God, why are you always so worried?" He spits. Doesn't hear a word you just said. 

"I don't know; maybe it's because we almost got sucked into a tornado three days ago?" You can feel your face getting hot. Teeth grit, jaw popping under the strain. "Maybe it's because I've seen storms kill people, Rhett!"

He stiffens. 

So do you. Glued in the middle of the street. Even the rain stabbing at your eyes can't make you blink. But the wind is one of those things that forces you to move—swaying sideways, shielding your gaze with an arm. A horn honks, headlights piercing through the silver veil. 

Getting back into the truck with him is the last thing you want to do. 

Gravel crunches beneath your feet. Shifting under your weight, seeming to drag you in like a thin layer of quicksand. Tiny little pebbles leap into the tops of your shoes, wriggling down through the gaps and working their way up under your foot. Walking barefoot would have been more comfortable. 

Ugh, but then you would have to worry about dodging the sharp metal hiding beneath the rocks, leftovers from experiments gone wrong, and backyard-tested explosives. 

The spare garage isn't much further up the driveway. Smaller, built to hold only one or two vehicles, depending on their size. There's no point in adding all of the extra space, not when the main garage is on the same property, fully decked out with its fancy tools, wifi, and air conditioning. 

Understandable, but you wish someone would have stopped to consider installing a light all the way out here. You can't see a damn thing this far out. Is there a bobcat standing between you and the building? Nobody knows!

There doesn't seem to be anything lurking in your path. You certainly don't feel anything brush past, even when you peel open the door and blindly feel along the inside wall, looking for the light switch. 

The grill of a truck glares back at you. Same old golden paint, still the same diamond-shaped chip beneath the left headlight. The dust is new, and yet, somehow, it's the same too. Exactly how it's always been.

And how it will stay if you can help it. 

It's a beautiful truck, really. Only one previous owner, still relatively new, decorated in gadgets that you've long since forgotten the specifics of. It's got everything. A roll cage. Bulletproof glass. Window cages. Augers hang on either side of the vehicle, in combination with the overhead arms, and those are only the things you remember installing.

There's a wire sticking out of the cables for the drills, has inexplicably wriggled its way out of the covering. That's what you get for choosing the cheapest company to haul this piece of junk all the way out here. You don't want to touch it, but...it's a simple fix. You've just got to slide this strip of metal up and—

Sparks scatter. A shock bolts through your fingers.

"You mother—mmh!" Yelping. Yanking your hand back. A twitch runs up your arm, the muscles in your hand shivering. 

And here you wonder why you quit messing with this goddamn truck. 

You peel the door open, blindly feeling around the console until you find the stupid tool you came all the way up here for. This old hunk of metal can sit here and rot for all you care. Why did you even try to mess with it? You know full well what will happen if you do more than open the door. 

Something always has to go wrong. 

You don't even feel your hand touch the light switch, but the room plunges into darkness all the same. To hell with—

"Am I interruptin' anything?" 

The door slams shut behind you, the knob jabbing into your spine. "Rhett?"

It's so dark out that you nearly miss the way his hands twist together, his head tilted toward the ground, not quite bold enough to look you in the eye. "I just...wanted to come and tell you I'm sorry," he pauses, peeking up at you through his lashes. You've never seen someone look more like a kicked puppy in your life. "I was actin' just like Tyler back there."

...huh. 

Can't say you were expecting that. 

"It's...uh..." What do you say? You can't say that it's okay. It's not okay. "Thank you?"

That seems to be enough for him. Shoulders falling, finally lifting his head to look at you properly. But then, his brows knit together. It's too dark to see where he's looking, but you can almost feel the heat of his gaze fixating on the garage behind you. "What're ya doin' out here?"

"Working on something?" This is what you get into focusing on creating an excuse and not rehearsing it beforehand. An amateur surrounded by Hollywood stars would be more convincing than you are.

"Top secret stuff, huh?" Is he buying it? He sounds like he is. "Somethin' broke on that gold truck of yours?"

...

Son of a bitch.

"How did you..." you don't...you don't know what to...say... "know about that?"

He jams his thumb over his shoulder, pointing blindly toward the heap of metal a few hundred feet away. "Was over in the scrap pile when ya brought it in a few weeks ago."

He's fucking with you.

He's got to be fucking with you.

"And you never said anything about it?" You feel like a deer caught in the headlights of a bullet train. Nowhere to run. Facing down your doom as it barrels toward you at a hundred miles an hour. 

"Figured you'd talk about it when y' wanted to," Rhett says it so matter of factly. Like this isn't a big deal. Like you haven't had Kate thinking that the truck has been delayed for the past month and a half.

It takes a moment to gather words on your tongue. It takes even longer to arrange them into a comprehensible sentence. "Does anybody else know?"

Rhett shrugs. "Not that 'm aware of."

You don't entirely know what it is that leads you to reach for the doorknob and twist it again. Nobody is forcing you to show him the truck. Hell, he's not even asking or acting like he wants to see it, but your body seems to be moving on its own accord. Maybe it simply can't handle another day of carrying around the secret, or maybe it's something else. Something that words aren't capable of describing. 

Rhett doesn't say a word. Quietly following you into the dark garage, winces when you flick on the overhead lights without warning. 

And then his eyelashes begin to flutter in that dumb, endearing sort of way. Intrigued. "What made ya wanna hide this?"

"Because if Kate finds out it's here, I'll have to work on it," you almost lean your hip against the front bumper. Almost.

Damn thing would probably blow up if you actually followed through with that impulse.

"I'm not followin'." Rhett runs his fingers across the hood, leaving behind little trails amongst the collection of dust. 

"Every time I touch this truck, it ends badly," now that you're saying it out loud, it sounds like you're trying to convince him that the thing is haunted. "I drove it here, and a headlight blew. Tried to fix that exposed wire on the driver's side and shocked the hell out of myself."

"What, two—"

"Time before that, the hydraulic arm snapped, and we turned into an EF3's playground toy." Not giving him any time to wiggle into the gaps of your argument. You're not touching it. End of story. 

He doesn't push it any further. Doesn't downplay what you're trying to tell him or try to sell you on the novelty of coincidences and misinterpretations. No, he just...hums and nods his head as if this is a story he hears all the time. 

A part of you hates that you ever expected anything less of him.

The cicadas take over. Singing their shrill, repetitive tune that somehow manages to get louder when you're inside. You don't know if it counts as silence when there are hundreds of bugs screaming the song of their people, like nature's rejected choir.

"Do y' want me to fix it?" Rhett's voice is like silk against the grating little pests lurking outside.

"Fix what?" You're lost.

"The headlight," he taps his knuckle against it, visibly disturbing the dust there, "and the wire that shocked ya." 

You're not entirely sure if you want to put the time and effort into this old piece of junk. There's a fairly large possibility that something internal has dry-rotted over the years and is bound to break at any moment, something that will cost a whole lot more than a cheap little headlight. But...

"Only if you want to," you don't mean for it to come out so miserable. Like you've had to strangle the words out of your own throat.

Rhett doesn't seem to notice it, his lips pulling up into a meager smile right before he moseys off to mess with the exposed wire. He taps his finger against the metal casing, following it up to where it ventures over the roof, then follows that until it guides him toward the driver's door. 

It's like he's got a blueprint of how you rigged this together, knows exactly where you've got the electric control box sitting, and which of the wires belong to the exposed one. The cover snaps back into place with the slightest bit of pressure. Easy as can be. No sparks, no shocks. 

The headlights are a bigger pain in the ass than they should be. You remember that all too well, the tediousness of removing the internal cover, several screws, and the grill, all to reach what should be an easily accessible headlight. 

"At the risk of soundin' dumb," Rhett's talking funny with that screw resting in the corner of his lip, "but you really built this thing?" 

"Once upon a time, yes." It doesn't even feel like you were the one who came up with all of this.

 The countless sleepless nights spent tweaking and redrawing plans. Building or scouring the ends of the earth for specific little parts. The perpetual stiffness in your neck from building your inventions into the truck. God, the grease stains that claimed so many of your t-shirts. 

The memories are all there in your head, and when Rhett tugs at the grill housing, your hands still twitch with a muscle memory you've yet to lose. He needs to tilt it up and towards himself. It's easier that way. But the memories don't feel like your own. Belonging to a past life, a glimpse of something that was never really meant for you. 

A stray thought draws to the forefront of your mind. "How's your shoulder?" 

"Hm?" He lifts his head, staring at you. Then, realizing what you said. "It's a'ight, jus' needed a couple stitches." 

You wonder what he defines as 'a couple'. But he doesn't push for any more history between you and the truck, so you don't push him for anything, either. 

There's a bunch of spare bulbs hiding in the main garage, and that really should be the end of it. Once the hood slams shut, there shouldn't be anything left to tinker with. The light works, the wire is no longer exposed, and everything is in order. You have absolutely zero reason to lay eyes on this truck again. 

To be fair, that's exactly what happens. 

For a day. 

"I thought they were s'pposed to quit arguin'?" 

You hear Rhett before you see him. Half-open eyes and messy hair stumbling down the unlit hallway, his arms full with his fuzzy brown blanket. Must have had the same idea that you did, seeking out the room furthest from Tyler's, hoping for another minute or two of sleep. 

You hate to tell him that there's no peace to be found in this damned house. 

"Bold of you to believe them," your attention darts back to the notebook resting in your lap, pen idly drawing across old lines, darkening them. Four in the morning is too early for creativity, but you can't fall back asleep, and you didn't bring anything to distract from the never-ending quarrel.

The couch cushion dips, Rhett's heavyweight settling in next to you. His cheek finds its way to your shoulder, landing there so naturally that you hardly even question it. "What're ya drawin'?"

"Same thing as before, just making it look a little less..." You don't know where you were going with that. Rhett isn't awake enough to catch it.

His gaze is so warm that you can feel it following your hand around the page, drinking in the careful strokes of the pen. 

It's almost enough to distract from Kate's muffled swearing, but nothing short of a speaker at full blast is going to drown them out. So the pen continues to dance across the paper, and the silence remains battered by two people who need to suck up their pride and kiss already. If not for the sake of their own mundane love lives, then for the sanity of those around them. 

"Have ya ever considered buildin' this idea?" Rhett reaches out to trace his finger around your crudely drawn wheel, the only spot he can touch without getting in your way.

"I started on it a long time ago," rattling it off without much thought. You don't have the capacity to consider what you're saying right now. "The sockets and connections are already built into the roof, but I could never get the hydraulic arms right." 

"I could help."

"Yeah?"

He tilts his head up to look at you, and you're just awake enough to realize that those aren't actually stars sparkling behind his eyes. But damn, does it sure look like tiny galaxies are lurking beneath the sea of blue. 

You don't know why you let him lean up and rub his nose against yours, but it must be the reason why you nuzzle him back. 

If there is one thing more awkward about sitting through Kate and Tyler's never-ending argument, it's having to survive their new form of fighting—the silent treatment. Each refusing to say a word when the other is in the room, resigning to comments filled with double meanings and glares out of the corner of their eyes.

You, quite frankly, might combust if you have to sit through another silent meal. If you wanted to be put in timeout, you would go back to elementary school.

"I see we had the same idea," you yawn, fighting to keep your eyes open as it takes over. One wrong step and your food is going to find itself in the gravel, and you're not looking to brave the wall of silence for a second time. 

"Great minds think alike," Rhett kicks his foot at you, perched up on the tailgate of his truck. "Unless your mind belongs t' two people I cannot name."

The initial plan was to wait until the weekend before you spent any time working on your truck, but it's hard to put it off when Tyler and his fleet of vehicles tear out of the driveway before noon, taking away damn near ever project Rhett had on the drawing board. You don't see Kate leave, but her car is missing from its usual spot, and you're in no mood to learn any more than that.

They'll get over it.

...once hell freezes over.

It's like you become caught up in a time loop. Every day, you wake up expecting to be put to work, to chase a storm, or to go on a supply run for weather equipment that you don't know the name of. Every day, you eat breakfast in the back of Rhett's truck and watch as every vehicle on the property flees the premises. Every day, you walk into that spare garage, roll up your sleeves, and begin tinkering with last night's project.

And Rhett just keeps coming around. Always the one to attach your creations to the truck, races you to pick up the heavier things around the shop, pokes at your sketches until you've explained every little thought and whim that went into why you created that particular part. 

Working with him is so much different than it was with Kate. She was never difficult to work with in the past; nothing big stands out in your memory, but you distinctly recall every frustrating moment she asked to change something that she didn't fully understand. Builds like these were nothing like what she was familiar with. She knew weather, not cars, and that was okay, but...

Fuck, it's like Rhett shares a brain with you. It's strange; he looks at what you're doing, and he just...understands it. Like you've finally found someone who understands a language that only you have spoken until now.

It's two weeks before the parts begin to fall into place, but once they do, it's all uphill from there. The hydraulic arms fit like a glove, and the batteries built beneath the seat offer more than enough electricity to operate them without sucking power from another operation. The drills spin as they're supposed to; they don't even warp when they sink into the rocky Arkansas soil for the first time.

Sunlight reveals that the cage protecting the windshield has rusted to hell. Rhett's sputtering about an improved design before you've even realized how bad it has gotten. A few of the tires need replacing, and if you don't let him fix those mismatching rims, he might just lose his mind.

"How d' you just let it look like that?" He's gotten heated so quickly, but that growing smile suggests he's only trying to bother you for the fun of it, "'n how did I miss this for so damn long?" 

"It doesn't affect the performance," you shrug, don't really recall when or how you wound up with one rim that doesn't match the others. Don't particularly care, either. 

"It's affectin' mine!" 

Your afternoon plans didn't originally include running between three shops in search of rims that match the aesthetics of the truck, but it's hard to say no when Rhett grabs you by the hand and guides you along like he does. 

And he...doesn't really let go. 

Maybe he does a few times, but he's loosely holding your hand in his while you walk from one store to another, and he's grabbing it to show you a set that he thinks is perfect for the truck's aesthetic. He's squeezing it when someone starts eyeing you up in the checkout lane. He's toying with your fingers at the stop light. And he reaches for it again at the end of the night when the rims are finally, finally on.

Now that you think about it, 'no dating business partners' almost definitely applies to you, too, but...

Oh, what the hell, why do you care? 

"Do you...want to try something?" Rhett's thumb swipes across your knuckles, idle little motions that seem to burn into your skin. 

You think you know what he's about to try and do, but... "Okay." 

He's gentle about it, guiding you forward toward the shimmering gold vehicle, sparkling in all of its post-bath glory. His other hand finds your waist, drawing you to stand in front of him, back kissing his warm chest. 

"What are we doing?" You know what he's doing. 

"Nothin' huge," he murmurs, voice low in your ear, so close that you can almost feel his lips brushing against the shell of it, "just...touchin' the door, a'ight?" 

His hand slips behind yours, grasping it from behind. Gently, he pushes it forward, so light that you can hardly feel his touch at all. Your stomach twists. That paint is too close.

Your arm stiffens. He doesn't push any further.

 It's too...well...if Rhett's not afraid of it, you suppose that...

It's cool beneath your touch, like ice, when you compare it to the burn of Rhett's palm. There's a scratch in the pain that you hadn't noticed up until this very moment, just deep enough to feel when the pad of your finger drifts across it. It feels...well, like a perfectly normal truck. You're not sure what else you were expecting. 

Your eyes dart to the window, peering at the silhouette of the steering wheel. 

Rhett's hand disappears from behind yours, leaves you cold and alone, up against this truck, but he makes no move to step away. Still here, even if you can't necessarily feel him. "That's not so bad, is it?"

"You're not gonna make me drive it next, are you?" You don't mean for it to come out sounding so annoyed, like a petulant child. 

His laugh echoes through the room and out the open door; doesn't seem to mind your tone at all. "Nah, we can wait on that." 

You don't touch it again until a few days later, your hip idly coming to rest against it during a conversation. And again, when Rhett's on the roof of the vehicle and needs you to climb up and hand him something. It doesn't shock you. The door doesn't magically slam shut on your fingers. It's...normal. Hell, it's at the very bottom of your list of inconveniences.

That's mostly because two names have taken over the rest of the page, but you digress. 

There's a moment when you catch yourself climbing into the driver's seat; you accidentally spilled a jar of bolts all over the floor, and the only way to fully clean it up is to get the truck out of the way. The key finds its way into the ignition without question, twisting so easily that you hardly realize what you're doing.

But then the engine rumbles to life, vibrating beneath your feet and echoing around the tiny garage like thunder, and ice forms in your joints. Stiff, freezing you into place like someone's pressed the pause button. 

Rhett tilts the broom handle toward you; those blue eyes are warm enough to melt you back into motion. Something about him keeps reining you in. Stops you before you can force yourself beyond your boundaries before you're ready. 

You're starting to love that about him. 

"I thought we were past this," you mutter, chin resting heavy against your knee. 

A midnight breeze swirls past you, bringing a chill that has you drawing your legs closer to your chest. At least the night is quiet, even the chirping cicadas have turned themselves down, nothing but a distant melody that you can hardly hear. Your ears catch the sound of a fork striking a plate, so sharp that it carries through the window and out into the parking lot. 

"'m sorry," Rhett's knees crack as he bends down to sit next to you, back coming to rest against the cool exterior of his truck. He's so close that you can feel the heat radiating off his arm, warm and cozy like the flames of a campfire. 

"You've got nothing to apologize for," it's not his fault. Nobody could have expected that bringing up the YouTube channel would end in...that. 

He hums. "I know."

Wind slams against the truck behind you, rocking it just enough for you to feel the motion against your back. Rhett's hair lifts. Dancing. Twisting along with it. Blowing into his face until he sputters and forces it behind his ear once more. If you had known you would be sitting outside, then you would have grabbed your coat before you came all the way out here.

But hindsight is twenty-twenty, and you've got nothing but this thin t-shirt and the warmth of your own body to get by on, hugging your legs even tighter. They've been in this position for so long that they've begun to go numb, but you prefer this to shivering.

"Cold?" Rhett leans over, nudging you with his elbow. You think he leaves a small fire behind, burning a little spot into your skin.

"Little bit," biting back the waver in your voice. 

"C'mere," and he's not really waiting for you to give him a yes or a no, already lifting his arm, beckoning you into his warm side. You shouldn't, but...

Oh, what the hell.

One little motion is all it takes to scoot under his arm, your head dropping to nestle against the expanse of his chest, and fuck, he's burning up. It's like snuggling into a big, cozy flame, one that envelops you before you can think twice about it. His head tilts, his chin coming to rest against your forehead, freshly shaven and a little bit prickly. 

You can hear his heartbeat right here. Deep little thump, thump, thumps, following an unnamed tune that you've never heard before. It seems the cicadas have drums now. Performing their little melodies for their barely-there audience, punctuated by the drone of a car crossing through the lot.

"What if I drive us to McDonalds?" Rhett's voice vibrates through your skull. Your head goes quiet. "Think there's a Taco Bell down the road, too."

Finding the ability to speak is...hard. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to move yet."

"That's a'ight," his lips press to your temple, "we can stay here, too." 

He doesn't say anything about what he just did. Neither do you, but it sticks in the back of your head like glue. You could convince yourself that it's just a ghost, one who has decided to follow you around and kiss the side of your head every time you think about him, the lingerings of a memory that refuses to leave. 

It's there when you lean up against the passenger side door, bent legs lazily slotting between Rhett's as you eat your greasy fast food. It bubbles to the surface when you run into each other in the living room and become sucked in by the Dr. Phil episode blasting from the neglected television. You can feel its presence when you spot him outside the garage while you and Kate are having coffee on the porch. 

You don't know if she realizes that you tune out of the conversation right then and there, mindlessly following the sight of his pale shoulders as he hoses something off. Muscles flex with the mundane effort, thick enough to cast a shadow. 

"I mean, can you believe he said that?" Kate's still going, the ice rattling in her cup as her hand moves about. "Yes, I'll admit I have feelings for him, but you know how that would affect the business!" 

"Who says that kind of thing?" You wonder what it would be like to dig your nails into those shoulders. What it would feel like for those jean-clad hips to slip between your parted—

"Exactly!" Kate hasn't the slightest clue what kind of daydream she just interrupted.

The memory of a kiss has zero reason to make itself known in the middle of an auto parts shop. When your hands are stained in indescribable grime that has no doubt managed to mar your face, the rattiest clothes you own hanging from your body with all the grace of a cardboard box. If you don't already look your worst, then you certainly feel your worst.

So why do you have the audacity to think about crossing the aisle and kissing him until you get kicked out? What provoked you to start thinking about this? You're supposed to be looking for that stupid...battery...damn which of these...did... 

"Which brand were you looking for?" The question is so prominent in your mind that it slips out of your mouth before you can realize it, already turning to look in his direction.

"The purple one," he rattles off, staring down at something in his palm. 

The...purple one? 

Huh, you'd thought it would be a lot more complicated than that. 

"I..." Rhett lifts his head, a lone curl casting across his cheek, wide blue eyes staring back at you. There's not a thought behind them. "I...forget the name." 

Not your truck, not your fight. If he wants the one with the purple label, then that's what you'll pull off the shelf—

Shit, you forgot how heavy these damn things are. Your elbow pops, shivering under the sudden weight. It's not too heavy; you were just...not ready to actually carry something heavy. If you'd remembered, then you would have lifted it differently.

Rhett's arm drifts past your chest, his hand curling around the plastic handle, taking it from you so easily that you hardly feel it leave your grasp. "I got it." 

You understand why you were so unprepared now. 

It's because he makes the thing look light as a feather, only needs one hand to hold it as you walk to the checkout together. He doesn't even need help to put it up on the counter, so nonchalant about it that he doesn't even pay attention to what he's doing.

An ancient little television buzzes in the top right corner, directly above the chair of the missing cashier. You don't think it's been touched since it was hung when this place was built, a mountain of dust resting atop its boxy shape, but it still plays. A blurry newsreel crosses the screen, a bald-headed man pointing at a live weather radar. 

The nameless man waves his hand across a patch of red and purple on the screen, rattling off words that take you a moment to process. "As this growing storm bears down on—"

"Y'all ready to check out?" The cashier is right in front of you all of a sudden. Rhett says something that you don't entirely catch. 

This is the storm Kate was muttering about earlier, up in the northwest corner of the state, projected to produce conditions ideal for one of her beloved little tornadoes. The tiny ones that do nothing but rock the trucks back and forth, maybe striking a few unlucky houses but not taking out entire towns.

Your lower belly twists. 

You're not entirely sure why it happens, but it does. Stomach churning back and forth like you're about to be sick, all over the sight of a television screen. Something in the room begins to ring, quiet but gradually growing louder, right in your ears, this piercing noise that you can't seem to shake. Your tongue is numb in your mouth, the air cold in your chest. 

The scene changes. A woman in a raincoat, holding a microphone to her lips as she gestures broadly at the road behind her. Cars rush past. A Prius, a minivan, two Volkswagen Beetles, a silver truck, a red truck, an ancient motorhome...

"There they are," Rhett mutters, just barely audible over the ringing. You and he are supposed to be out there with them. 

You think your hand is shaking. 

Again, the cameras change, jumping back to the same bald weather forecaster as he points to something you don't understand. But they've laid it out for people like you, all of Kate's unexplained terminology has been dumbed down into vague, simple terms that you recognize loud and clear.

"That storm is gonna be too much for their trucks to handle." It darts out of your mouth before you can think about what you're about to say, teeth chattering around the letters.

Rhett tilts his head. "What do you mean?"

"The storm trucks," your jaw shivers, muscles fighting to disobey your every command. "Are any of them rated for tornadoes stronger than an F2?"

"None of 'em are," he reaches to pull his card from the reader, then, pausing, "the only rig that can handle that sort of thing is..." 

You tear your gaze from the television, the reporter's voice droning on and on about something you don't entirely understand. Rhett's already looking back to you. Still frozen in place. You think you catch one of your own thoughts flickering behind his eyes. 

But you can't help yourself, looking back up toward the grainy screen. The weatherman is still talking, his warbled voice drowning in the squealing filling your ears. You think you catch the card reader beeping, yelling about a forgotten credit card. The storm wasn't this big when it crossed Kate's screen; you remember it fit perfectly between these two towns. The forecast entirely covers them now, extending out to the areas nearby.

Something warm curls around your hand.

The ringing stops. 

You don't know where the cashier has gone or when Rhett walked up next to you. But you can hear the shallow sound of your own breath, the sharp ins and outs that mismatch with the slow puff of Rhett's. 

It's still audible, even as the room changes. Ever so present when the tile floor morphs into smooth concrete, that familiar musty scent swirling around your head, assaulting your nose and drying your mouth out. Shimmering gold paint glares back at you. But your right hand is still warm.

"You've got this," the keys jingle as Rhett talks, awkwardly holding them out with his other hand. They're right there for you to take. You don't even have to reach. "I know y' do."

You're still not so sure about that. But the radio in the corner is blaring its muffled severe weather alert warnings, the old television screen is burned into your retinas, and this damn old truck isn't going anywhere, regardless of how hard you glare at it. 

Rhett's shoulder nudges yours, his hand squeezing a little tighter. "It's just a grumpy ol' truck."

The truck roars. Back tires squealing as your hands fly across the wheel. Cinching all twelve thousand pounds of machine to the left. The guy behind you blares his horn.

"Prick." Rhett snarls under his breath. His hand on the overhead handle tightens. Muscles and veins flex so harshly that you can see it in the corner of your eye. The front right tire dips off the pavement, the steering wheel almost ripping itself to the right. 

Where are they? Where are they? 

"I thought you were navigating!" You don't mean to yell. Too focused on jumping your foot between the brake and gas pedals, fighting against a speed limit that you know isn't being enforced right now. 

"I am!" Rhett's nail taps angrily at a screen. "Wherever they are 's got no fucking service."

The storm seems to be further to the east, right might be your best bet. But this road doesn't look like it goes on for at least another mile, and you can't take another dead end. Not with the rapidly darkening sky overhead. Looming. Waiting for the right moment to drop an ocean's worth of hail and rain upon you.

"Right!" Rhett yells. "Go right!" 

The tires scream. Foot tapping the breaks. The steering wheel spins. You're vaguely aware of your body tilting in the seat. Shoulder bumping into the glass. 

But you never teeter off the road. 

Even if you come close to it. 

"What made you decide that?" You feel as if you're still spinning, even as the road straightens out in front of you. 

His hand lifts, middle finger pointing toward something you don't have time to identify. "I remember them passin' them grain silos before the live stream cut off." 

You see them. A cluster of six, up in the distance, towering over the corn fields that have swallowed you whole. Maybe a mile or two up the road, give or take. Plenty of time for you to lean on the gas pedal again, the floorboard rumbling as the speedometer crawls back up to seventy. 

Everything still seems attached. No sensors are going off on the control panel crudely built into the center console. You know Rhett would have said something if one of them lit up, but you're looking at them anyway. Just in case one magically decides to light up with a catastrophic error in the next thirty seconds.

You've already got to tap the brakes again. Stupid, winding country roads forcing you to crawl back under fifty to avoid tipping over. It would be so much easier to cut through this patch of field that has already been harvested, barren, until spring rolls back around. Dodge the curves and jump right back onto the main stretch. Actually...

If Kate can accidentally drive this truck into a small river and come out fine, then a little offroading shouldn't hurt it in the slightest.

What's stopping you? 

"What the hell?!" Rhett squeals. "You coulda damaged the damn—!"

"Dallas has handled worse." There's no way you're doing this. There's no way you're really driving this rig. Never mind hauling it straight through someone's old cornfield. Bouncing up and down with every little bump in the soil. 

Rhett's head whips toward you. Still clinging to that oh-shit handle. "Dallas?"

...well.

He had to find out eventually.

All it takes is the slightest nudge to the left to jump back onto the road. And you never realized how quiet driving on the pavement is until now. Virtually silent as you reach for the turn signal, easing through a turn that you were definitely supposed to stop for. 

The cornfields break apart up ahead, diving down into the much shorter soybean crops, expanding as far as the eye can see. No police cars around to catch sight of you blowing through another all-way stop, straddling the thin expanse of pavement. 

There's a van parked on the side of the road, tucked away in a little patch of gravel. Lights and cameras flash. Yellow and white ponchos scurry back and forth. Dressed in t-shirts and shorts and flip-flops, not one of them prepared for more than mild rain. 

"There's no way they didn't come this way," Rhett's echoing the very thought that just crossed your mind.

The first drops of rain come in one thick sheet. Slamming against the windshield. Blurring sight of the rapidly deteriorating road. You've only just turned the windshield wipers on, but they're still not enough. Whirring back and forth as fast as they can possibly go.

Everything around you has gone white. You can't—shit, you can't see the road. "Can you see anything?"

Rhett leans forward, chin bumping the dashboard. The tablet in his lap beeps. Once. Twice. Three times. "Not a fuckin' thing." 

The console lights up. Purple in color. The wind gauge. 

"What does...?" Rhett doesn't finish that question. Doesn't really need to.

"The wind speeds are higher than a hundred-fifty miles an hour," your mouth is moving, but you don't recognize what you're saying. Don't have time to focus on that. "Tell me if the green one comes on."

Gravel abruptly appears under the tires. Panging against the sides of the truck like hail. 

Rhett reaches for something on the dash. "What does green mean?"

"That we should go in the opposite direction." And you don't want to remember if that light is meant to detect two hundred mile-an-hour winds or two hundred fifty. 

Fog melts from the windshield. You didn't recognize it was even there. Fading away into a clearer world. You can see the fields again, mere feet away from the vehicle, as you tear down a road too tiny for your tires to fit on. 

Clouds stir overhead, so dark that they're visible even through the rain. Twisting in a slow spiral, gradually descending to the earth below. But she's not here yet. She still needs a minute to gather her momentum before the clouds can kiss the ground. 

Red flashes up ahead. 

Your stomach drops.

"Take this left!" Rhett's order is your command. Shooting off onto an even smaller dirt path. A windmill shudders to your right, swaying back and forth. 

There they are.

Drills whir on either side of Tyler's truck. Digging deep into the earth. But there's nothing to help the aluminum trailer hitched to it, shivering violently under the wind. 

"You're sure they don't have this covered?" Rhett has to shout for you to hear him. Even then, you don't think you do. 

The back of your throat is sour. It's crawling into your eyes, clawing at your belly. Your hands shiver. The steering wheel briefly slips from your grasp. 

Something isn't right.

Your foot slips off the gas pedal. Sporadically tapping around, struggling to jump back on. Dallas's engine roars louder than the winds squealing past. 

"It's not working!" Tyler's voice arcs across the radio.

Hail crashes into the roof. Scattering across the windshield cage.

"The barrels aren't deploying!" Kate. 

The backend of their trailer jumps. The left auger slips through the soil. Tyler's truck twists a few feet. Was never meant to withstand this kind of wind. 

Dallas is slipping. Tires fail to cling to the ground as you rush forward. 

"Rhett—"

"I'm on it." He's already got his hand on the overhead button. Thumb hovering over the red light.

You're almost—you're almost. Just a few more yards is all you need. Almost. Tyler's door parallels with your passenger side. Little more. Little more—

The brake pedal spurs beneath your foot. Kicking back. Dallas lurches. Something internal shrieks. 

"Now!" 

Drills spin. Digging into already saturated ground. The engine roars impossibly louder, and the lights begin to flicker. All power concentrates over your head. Groaning to life, the hydraulic arms resting overhead begin to extend. Arking high into the air. Twisting outward. The tip of a drill bumps into the trailer, but it's still moving. Swinging over top of Tyler's rig, drills sinking into the ground on the other side. 

A blackened wind takes hold of the outside world. Dallas shudders. But the steel arms never let Tyler's truck out of their hug. You don't think they're slipping any further. Fuck. Fuck you couldn't tell even if they did. Why did you think this was a good idea? Why did you think this was a good idea? Why did Rhett let you do this? It's too loud to hear if they've blown away. And you can't see a single—

"Hey." 

Your shoulder is warm. And that sensation is crawling up the back of your neck, forcing your head to turn. Rhett's hands crawl up to your cheekbones, blocking out your surroundings. You're trying to look out the windshield, but he's not letting go. 

He's the only thing in existence. 

The console digs into your side as he pulls you toward him. His forehead kisses yours. Noses resting against each other. It's so dark, but the blue of his eyes is still as bright as the sky lurking above the clouds. The howling tornado softens into a hum. 

"We're okay," it's nothing but a whisper in the rampage, "we're okay." 

You hear him. There's no reason you should be able to. His mouth is moving. The words never greet your ears. Lost. Drowned out by a muffled sound that you're no longer capable of comprehending.

But you hear him. 

This mattress...is the lumpiest thing you have ever felt in your life. A bed made of bubbles would be more even than this is, digging into the curves in your spine and nudging awkwardly beneath your hips. But you can't bring yourself to move. Not when the tension is easing from your back and shoulders. Has been there for so long that it almost hurts to let it slip away.

The television is on, multicolored lights flickering across the screen, playing what you think is another newsreel, but you can't look at it. Not today. Not tomorrow. You're dying here in this cheap motel bed. The last thing you plan to hear is either the slow drone of the weatherman or the boom of thunder outside. 

Someone knocks at your door. 

Once. 

Twice. 

Three times. 

"Who is it?" Using your voice requires far too much effort on your behalf.

A muffled sound works its way through the scratched wooden door. You don't know what he says, but you know who it is.

Your body tells you that getting up is impossible. Your heart already has you sitting up, sore feet falling onto the thin carpet without complaint. Something twitches in your back as you walk toward the door, wordlessly begging for the comforts of that shitty bed.

"Hey," you breathe.

Rhett's eyelashes flutter. "Hey."

Neither of you say anything further. It's as if all of your words have spilled out of your brain and carried off with the breeze, venturing off into the storm, never to be seen again. You think the same thing must happen to Rhett because he doesn't seem to have any words left, either. 

Wind twists through his hair, whirling past and into your hotel room. Its invisible hands find your backs, pressing until you fall together like a pair of dolls. Like two trucks who needed one last nudge to nosedive off the cliff. His arms curl around your waist, and your nose is buried into his shoulder, and he's so warm and real. 

"So Dallas, huh?" His breath tickles your ear, almost enough to make you shudder.

"You gotta admit, I had you convinced," talking into his shoulder, unbothered by how muffled it makes you sound.

"Sure y' did." It's his laughter that does it, sends a shiver racing down your weary spine. You think you're going to collapse into a million tiny pieces. "I would've never guessed that it was your fuckin' truck." 

There's a part of you that wonders how he never figured that out; you're pretty sure that you scribbled Dallas's name into the license plate of your sketch that he's looked at so many times. Or maybe he did and simply didn't make the connection that Dallas was a truck and not another man.

"Found out why those two losers were always arguin'," he makes no effort to draw away from you, his arms remaining comfortably looped around you.

"Really?" Perking up. Maybe you've got a little bit of energy left after all. "What was it?"

Rhett leans back a little bit, enough for you to see his face, but he's yet to let you out of his grasp. "Dallas."  

"Oh, so you both fell for it!" You giggle, and you're only vaguely aware of the door slamming shut on its own, cutting off the shrill embrace of the midnight air. 

"Hey, at least I didn't make snide remarks about 'em," but you can still see the lingering embarrassment coloring his cheeks, unusually rosy. He fell for it, hook, line, and sinker, but...

Your hand darts up, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "To be fair, you have always been the sweet one."

The corners of his lips quiver, gradually curving upward, but his eyes refuse to meet with yours. "Y' think so?" 

You know so, but those words don't dare to make their way out of your mouth. Even if they did, it would be no use because they fizzle away the moment the bridge of Rhett's nose bumps into yours. He's been eating those butterscotch candies again; you can taste them on his breath, sweet as can be.

You could kiss him if you wanted to. 

All it would take is the littlest nudge forward for your lips to collide. A clever gust of wind could even do it, forcing you to take that final step forward, throw yourselves into fate's palm, and see what she decides on the matter. You could spend the rest of your life doing just this, gazing into soft hues of blue, kissing him through every storm that will ever pass. Or, this could be the only night that you ever experience this. 

Thunder rumbles outside, the overhead light flickering with it in perfect synchrony. There's no stopping this one. No amount of magic powder can ease up the onslaught of rain and hail raging outside of your window, pelting everything in its sight. 

"'s probably my cue to get out before the rain picks up too much," he says, so suddenly that you're almost shocked to realize that this isn't a dream. 

He disappears so easily. Slipping away as easily as an afternoon daydream, those eyes daring to linger for a second longer before he turns to reach for the door. That big, bruised hand of his dwarfs the knob, gingerly wrapping around it like it'll break at any given moment.

Your lower belly coils. Sour. 

You should kiss him. 

And that might be how his name tumbles out of your mouth. That might explain where you get the nerve to grab a fistful of his t-shirt, yanking so hard that he stumbles. His gasp is the last thing you hear.

It's messy. Chapped lips collide, and noses crash. His chin bumps into yours too hard, and his chest hits you with the force of a freight train. But he exhales when you do. He tilts his head forward, and you think you're beginning to fall, plummeting off the cliff and into the nebula. 

Rhett draws back just as quickly. His eyelashes flutter. You release your grasp on his shirt. Maybe you shouldn't have—

The corners of his eyes curve with his smile. You blink, and he's leaning back in. 

You're not falling into the abyss alone.

Except, you literally might be falling because you're vaguely aware of the world spinning around you, seemingly weightless for a few fleeting milliseconds, before your back finds home in the lumpy mattress you paid fifty-something dollars to sleep on. 

"Shit—" Rhett blurts, jerking away as if burned. "'m sorry, I..."

You only realize you're moving when you see your hand coming to rest against his cheek, coarse and unshaven. It's been a few days since the last time it was trimmed, has had time to soften and lose that sand-papery texture. 

"I don't mind this," you confess. Lightning crackles outside, so bright that you can see the flash of it through the curtains. 

Rhett meets you in the middle. Your noses bump once more as teeth unexpectedly clash, such a disaster that it ought to make you embarrassed, but you don't have the capacity to think about that right now. Not when he's letting himself settle against you, his heavy body slipping between your parted legs, fitting against you like he was built just for you.

Kissing him is...kissing him is like running into a tornado head first. He's so strong, pressing you down into the bed, anchoring you here with his weight alone, and he's just...Fuck, he's everywhere. His hand is curling around your face, and his belt buckle is digging into your lower belly and he smells like the rain that has enveloped the outside world. 

He's traveling. Working his tiny, open-mouthed kisses across your cheek, the tip of his nose tickling the side of your neck as he finds his way to a spot beneath your ear. 

Your hips jerk up into his.

He gasps.

"Is this...can I...?" Breathy. Hesitant. Like he's lost the ability to think.

It must be contagious. All you can do is nod. Dumb. But it's enough. It's more than enough.

No dating business partners, but surely they'd make an exception for a pretty cowboy, right? Kissing him doesn't count. Tangling your fingers in his hair doesn't count. It doesn't count if they never find out. Whatever the repercussions may be, they're not enough to stop you. 

They would understand if they knew he tasted this sweet. If they knew that he hums when he tilts his head, leaning deeper into you, as if he hasn't gotten enough of you yet. His chapped lips tangle with yours so easily that you almost think you've danced to this tune before, falling into a routine that you haven't thought about in years.

The hand on your cheek disappears, fingertips idly tracing across your skin, down your neck, and then up to the corner of your eye, doing nothing but feel you. Something rumbles outside, in perfect tune with the slow roll of his hips, grinding down into you.

"Rhett," your head is spinning, idly grabbing at his biceps like that will somehow anchor you down. 

"I ain't goin' nowhere," uttered like a sacred promise.

But the need for oxygen strikes you at the same time. Reeling back. Gasping. Eyes peeling open for what must be the first time in hours. Days, even.

Oh, he is something. Swollen lips and pink cheeks, his unruly hair ruffled and stubbornly falling into his face, so long that the ends of it tickle your face. You can only tuck so much of it behind his ear before some of it escapes and falls forward again.

Your eyes meet.

He laughs. "I feel like a damn mess."

"I'm sure I don't look any better," your thumb wanders out, tracing across his bottom lip. His tongue darts out, timidly wetting the pad of your finger. It's the last push you need to lift your hand and tap him on the nose with it. 

Those eyes scrunch shut. Overreacting just a little bit.

Thunder slams into the ground with its heavy iron fist, shaking the motel and rattling you back into motion. Leaning back up to drown in him once more, almost sighing as he meets you, grants you the luxury of settling your head against the pillow. You think he only means to shift his position, but the bulge in his jeans grinds into you all the same, a little spark of heat bolting up your core.

"This is okay?" He whispers against your lips, those big forearms settling on either side of your head, seeking more leverage.

Your tongue is limp in your mouth, distracted by how the dim light catches on his bicep, illuminating a bulging vein there. Thick, winding down into his forearm and into his big, meaty palm. 

Rhett's nose finds your cheek, gently nudging. 

It takes a moment to recall his question. "More than okay." 

Rhett's chuckle is a fleeting thing. There one moment and dissolving the next, overtaken by your sudden movement, too impatient to wait any longer. But you miss. It's hard to find any leverage when you've got him between your legs. 

His hips roll down; you're convinced that you feel him twitch in his jeans. "That what yer after?" 

There's no reason why this should work the way that it does. These layers between you should be making this harder to feel, but you're nearly convinced that the clothes are a minor hallucination because they do nothing to stop the feeling of him slowly rutting against you. The coarse material of his jeans drags against your thighs, the tent in his jeans heavy against your core.

You can't help yourself. One of your hands are tangling in his hair, and the other is grabbing hold of his bicep, greedily squeezing the thick muscle that you've spent too much of your life staring at. It flexes in your grasp, shamelessly showing off. You'd call him out on it if not for—

"Your ass is vibrating," you can feel it against your knee, a steady buzz that wasn't there before. 

"Think it's Ty," he doesn't reach for his phone. Instead, his finger curls into the pearl snap buttons of his flannel, raking down and popping them open one by one. 

His pale chest is...distracting.

"Are you gonna answer?" You croak, already fixating on that bucking bull tattoo. Old. Faded. Some little thing he picked up right after he turned eighteen, a discount job that has already begun to wear down. You recall him saying that his momma almost kicked him out of the house for it. 

"Nah," the thin fabric falls from his body like a distant memory, landing somewhere on the floor. "Whatever it is can wait 'till mornin'." It's the tiniest motion, reaching into his pocket and tossing his phone off to the side, but the light catches on his chest just right, and...

"Rhett, this is..." You had a feeling it was worse than just a few stitches, but the image in your head wasn't this.

It's just below his collarbone. Healed at the top but opening up into a wide gash that is far too wide to be stitched closed, scabbed over, and surrounded in a sea of yellow and purple. You can see where the stitches once were, little red dots following the space that has already scarred.

"I know," he mutters, almost sounds ashamed. 

You don't know what makes you do it. But you lean up, lips delicately pressing to the thin line of pink skin. Just two slow pecks, steering clear of what you know is a sore wound.

"'re you kissin' me better?" His voice is right in your ear, his smile shifting the tone of his words. 

"S'ppose I am," there's an unexpected twang to your tone; you're starting to sound like him. 

Your foreheads meet. Softly thunking together, noses rubbing back and forth in their own unspoken dance. He squirms, pulling himself a little higher on the bed, and—

"Shit." He's hissing, dragging his hips against yours again—something about that angle, fuck. 

Rhett's the one who's taken charge of this, deliberately grinding himself into you like he can't think of doing anything else, but it's you who pushes things further. Craning your head up to find the prickly underside of his jaw, pressing your lips to the space beneath his ear. It's just so hard to stop yourself, lightly sucking on the skin there, enough to hear him gasp and leave a faint red patch in your wake.

One after another, gradually making your way down his neck, his heavy breaths enough to make you dizzy. Only stopping when you can no longer reach, forced to reel back before the ache in your neck begins to grow. 

Rhett picks up right where you left off, his tongue poking between his lips as he kisses down your neck, leaving behind little wet spots that seem to freeze over in the chilly bedroom air. His big hands dip beneath your shirt, callouses dragging against your sensitive skin. You know what he's about to ask, and you're already arching your back off the bed.

But he doesn't take it off. Stops right as he pushes the fabric up to your neck, skipping across it, lips finding your naked chest instead. "You'll get cold if I take it all the way off," he murmurs as if he can hear the question floating through your head. 

Without warning, his mouth finds your nipple. Delicately pulls it into his mouth like you'll shatter if he's too rough, his tongue swirling around the little bud in such a way that your head spins in tune with it. Your hands are in his hair, clinging to those curls resting at his nape, a little noise whistling out of your throat. 

He draws away, and—shit, it really is cold in here. 

Your hips jerk on their own accord. Impatient for something you weren't thinking about. 

"Hang on, hang on," Rhett's chuckling at your antics like this is a little game you've been playing for years on end. 

You're playing into it. Lifting your hips when his fingers curl beneath your waistband, shyly drawing your legs together when you realize that he's taken your underwear with your shorts, all in one go. It's easier to ignore the sudden over-exposed sensation when he reaches for his belt, pinching it open and squirming out of those too-tight jeans that have no right to cling to him like they do. 

He's here before you hear the clothes hit the floor. Slipping between your legs once more, his body so warm against your chilly skin. Melting away the metaphorical frost that has already begun to call you home.

Oh.

You didn't realize he was—fuck, that's so much better without clothes in your way. His cock slipping between your folds, the thick underside massaging against your swollen clit so easily. 

"Rhett..." aimlessly babbling, grasping at his biceps before you can think twice about it. 

You don't know if it's because you never gave it much thought or if it's because it's been a while, but he's so much bigger than you thought he'd be. Just the sight of his thick, weeping tip is enough to make you dizzy, the kind of size that almost makes you feel minuscule in comparison.

"So fuckin' wet already," you don't know when he got so close to your ear, a violent shiver quaking across your body as he whispers in that stupidly low voice of his. "were y' wantin' me that bad, sweetheart?" 

You can't respond. Not when he's using his own body weight to keep you pinned to the mattress as he ruts his big cock against your pussy, deliberately targeting your poor clit over and over. Little fireworks rattle up your spine and explode in your head with every motion, glittering behind your eyelids, staining your view of his face. 

"I...shit, Rhett..." speaking is like swimming through a tsunami, words there and gone in a matter of milliseconds, washed away to the back of your mind. "Rhett..." It's no use. You can't...you can't...

The bridge of his nose kisses yours, one of his stray brunette curls coming down to tickle your cheek. You fear the day he cuts his hair short. "Say it again." 

He's said...something, you know he did, but it's so—it's so hard to focus. Too distracted by the way precum obscenely spills out of his slit, mixing with your own wetness, sickening the glide of his length, his every motion punctuated by a quiet squelch that's too loud for this little hotel room. Kate can hear it from down the hall; you're sure of it. 

Hell, maybe she's too busy with Tyler. Maybe she'll throw that 'no dating business partners' rule to the wind and shut that loud-mouthed cowboy up once and for all.  

"...huh?" You think you were supposed to be figuring out what Rhett said. Still haven't done that. 

"Say my name again," he sounds a little breathier now, his sharp hips forcing your thighs to rise and fall with the motion of his body, clinging to him like he's the only stable thing in this big, blinding world. 

"Rhett." It slips out like you've been uttering it your whole life, tongue hand-crafted to do nothing else but form the shape of his name. Can't really stop yourself now that you've begun to say it. Mindlessly mumbling his name with every long thrust. "Rhett...Rhett!" 

Pressure unexpectedly blossoms. Air catches in your throat as his cock head dips into you. 

"Shit—!" Rhett's yelp dissolves into a muffled groan. "I didn't mean..."

But your legs are curling around him, your heels digging into the swell of his ass, urging him deeper. More. You want more of this. 

Oh, and he gives you exactly what you want. Softens and lets you draw him in, so overtaken by the sensation that he visibly fights to keep his eyes open. You weren't ready for this at all and you don't even care. It's hard to think about the ache when he's already dragging against a sensitive cluster of nerves, his cock so thick that it rubs against them without even trying.

"'s it feel good or 'm I hurtin' ya?" Rhett's voice is like gravel. So much lower than what you remember it being. 

"'s good," you're whining, absently squeezing at his biceps as he sinks further and further into you. There's just so much of him to take, slowly splitting your poor pussy wide open inch by fucking inch. 

Thunder booms outside, but it's not near as scary as the monster between your shivering thighs. Lightning flickers as you feel him bottom out, buried to the hilt, and you don't...you don't know if you have room left to even breathe. 

There's no real waiting. He can't, with you taking it upon yourself to dig your heels into the bed and impatiently rutting yourself against him. Shallow little ins and outs that very nearly punch the air out of your lungs.

"So fuckin' impatient," his chest settles against yours, anchoring you into the bed and forcing your squirming hips to hold still. "Needin' my cock that bad, baby?"

You've got just enough of your bearings left to glare at him. No, you were wanting him to buy you a snack out of the vending machine. What else could you want?

"Hey, I didn't say I wouldn't give it to ya," he chuckles like he can hear every little snarky thought that crosses your mind; maybe he's been reading your mind ever since the day you met. 

All of a sudden, he's moving, drawing those strong hips back, only to rock back into you, doing nothing but shallowly rut his cock into you. If it were anyone else, this wouldn't work, but fuck he's already got this figured out. Massaging against those little nerves you haven't touched in so, so long, such a simple thing that has you clenching around him. 

And you're helpless to do anything but cling to him and take it. Pinned to this shitty motel mattress as the storm rages on outside. 

"'s that better, hm?" He coos, nuzzling your noses together as if to soothe the pitchy noises he's gently punching out of you. "I can feel your little legs just a shakin'."

There's nothing you can say. Stunned into mindless sounds that you can't seem to stifle, all too aware of how he's beginning to pull out further, fucking you in long, heavy strokes that leave stars sparkling in your vision. 

Your hips involuntarily buck. The angle shifts. 

"Aha—!" You're crying out. Way too loud. The neighbor absolutely heard that.

But you can't think about that because Rhett's caught onto it, swiveling his hips. Misses on the first try. Drifts closer on the second—

Not a thing escapes your lips, but your back rises up off the bed, clenching around him as he strikes that spot again, and you're only vaguely aware of how you're getting wetter. Absolutely dripping around him, every little motion punctuated by a sickening squelch that you can't possibly ignore. 

"This poor lil pussy of yours," he's so talkative, purring those filthy words against your lips like they're gospel. "Gonna have ya limpin' all tomorrow."

You can't...you can't keep still. Wriggling helplessly, not sure if you're pushing up into him or trying to pull away; whatever it is, it's not working. That fat cock of his is still sinking into you at his own pace, balls lightly smacking into your ass, heavy and full and...

"Probably have to tell 'em a little lie or two," kissing him only briefly shuts him up. He's talking the moment you part ways. "'s not really acceptable to tell 'em the shop mechanic was—mmh between your pretty little legs all night long." 

Your hand finds its way up his arm. Crossing his shoulder blades. On a one-way track to tangle in his messy hair and pull. It's enough to yank his head back, that pretty, pale throat on full display as a warbled moan jumps out of him. 

Rhett's teeth sink into his bottom lip, muffling something you wish you could hear. "Talk to me, baby."

"Wanna...wanna hear you," that doesn't sound like your voice at all. If you couldn't feel it coming out of your own mouth, you'd think it was someone else entirely. "Please." For extra measure. 

You'll fuss about begging on another day. When you're not—oh, when you're not...

The tiniest noise stumbles out of Rhett's throat. Music to your fucking ears. You want more of it. 

It takes a moment. Gathering the strength to use the rest of your body. But then you do, and you're deliberately clenching around him, shivering thighs squeezing his pistoning hips as tight as you can, and he whines.

"Fuck, I...I..." Stumbling out of him. Aimless, but it's damn near enough to make you dizzy.

"Uhuh," is all you can utter. Dumb.

Lips collide. Crashing so clumsily that it's a wonder you don't knock a tooth out, nothing but open-mouthed entanglements and tongue. Calling this a kiss would disgrace the very word. Kisses are meant to be elegant. A beautiful sort of dance that no language will ever be able to properly describe. 

Soft little whimpers creep past his defenses. Faint at first, but it's so hard to stop once he starts crying into your mouth when you clench around him once more. You don't know if it's the sound itself or the delicious drag of his cock that sends the wave of heat roaring into your lower belly. Hell, maybe it's both. 

"Sound so fuckin' pretty." He's the one who says it, but you utter it in the back of your mind, too.

This room is so damn hot all of a sudden. A familiar pull has you fluttering around him, spasms that you feel just as much as he does. And he's driving directly into those little nerves so easily that your entire body is beginning to tingle with it, his weeping cock head striking them over and over and over.

Rhett shivers. A bead of sweat runs down his flushed face. "Fuck, I'm—"

"Close!" You blurt. Didn't mean to finish his sentence for him, but it's already out there, and oh, oh, oh.

His motions are quickening, unexpectedly thrown off of his rhythm, only for his hips to slam into you so hard it rocks the headboard. An unfamiliar heat blossoms, and you can feel his cock twitching inside of you and—Oh, he's cumming in you. 

That's all it takes. 

Your ears go numb as your back arches. Heart hamming in your chest. Crying out something that you never get to hear as you cum around him without warning. Little sparks firing across your nerves, and for the briefest moment, you think you've been swept up into a twister. Swirling 'round and 'round, nothing but Rhett's sweaty body to keep you from flying away entirely. 

And the storm whispers your name, barely audible over the hammer of your own heart. Echoing as the color drowns to black, warping until you can't no longer hear that, either. 

One of your eyes peeks open. 

Did you fall asleep? 

Because you feel like you fell asleep. Don't quite recall feeling so groggy, gravity weighing heavy on your eyelids, fighting against all odds to stay closed. Your tongue is almost stiff in your mouth, difficult to move. 

Rhett's hand has long since curled around your face, his thumb stroking the thin skin beneath your eye. Delicate. You don't think he's realized you're back yet, so distracted that the proof of it is evident in his face. Those deep blue irises flickering across your face, trailing across your forehead, your cheeks, your bitten lips, cracked and dry from the elements. 

You're far from looking your best. That you know for sure, but something about the way he looks at you...has you feeling like the prettiest thing this side of the country.

The corner of his lip rises the moment your eyes meet. "There ya are."

"I think I fell asleep," you croak. That still doesn't sound like your voice, but there's nowhere else it could be coming from. 

"'s only been a few minutes," pausing to press a kiss to your temple. That might be a faint hickey forming beneath his ear. "had me thinkin' I killed ya."

You can't help but giggle, an image emerging to the forefront of your mind. "Could you imagine having to explain to everyone that your dick killed me?"

His eyes roll as hard as they possibly can. You're almost disappointed that they don't get stuck. "'s not that big."

"You'd sing a very different tune if we could swap places," you mumble, reaching for his hand. So much bigger than yours, you can hardly even cover half of it. 

"Who says we can't?" He says it so...bluntly. 

...is he already implying that pegging is on the table?

You can't find your words. Neither can he. All too quiet as you stare back at each other. 

You crack at the same time. Sputtering into laughter like a pair of dumb kids, collapsing into perfect synchrony as you scramble out of the bed. Don't need to utter a word to Bare feet stumble across horrendously patterned carpet. His hand guiding you along on a one-way race to a too-small bathroom.

You're beginning to realize that cowboys and mechanics are just nerds with a very specific niche. 

There's no way that Rhett is still out there poking at Dallas, running his hands over the different components, pressing on buttons just to see what they'll do if anything at all. Even from the door, you can see the gears twisting and turning in his head, processing every little detail and scratch like it's a work of art he's never laid eyes on before.

Except he has laid eyes on Dallas before. More times than you can count, and that beat-up old thing is far from a work of art. At least it's still prettier than Tyler's rusty old rig over there in the back...

No, it's not there anymore. 

Did they leave already? 

"Where's thing one and thing two?" You hope he doesn't notice the way you waddle across the parking lot, an ache plaguing you with every step. It was cute, the idea of being sore from a night in bed with him, but hell, is the actual experience a lot less romantic to deal with. 

"They ditched us fer a date at some kind of storm chaser convention."

And here you thought Kate would at least give you the luxury of sticking around to tell you where she was going. Better yet, sending a text. 

"A date?" Tilting your head to the side, like that'll somehow make you hear better. 

Rhett presses another button. Every light in the truck turns on. "'s what it looked like on Ty's Instagram story."

You've already dug your phone out of your pocket, thumbs fumbling over each other as you search for your friends. Kate's account is the same as it was three days ago. No new posts since July of last year, but Tyler's...

There they are. Posing in front of the camera, spinning it around to unveil a line up of storm trucks. There has to be at least two dozen of them, sidled up next to each other in a perfect line with little white boxes resting on their hoods. A blurry sign sits behind them, forces you to replay the video and squint in order to read it. 

Voting opens  @ 4 PM.

"You have got to be kidding me," deadpan. Damn, not even an invite? After all that arguing? After yesterday? They wouldn't even have a truck to enter if it weren't for Dallas! 

"Hm?" Rhett blinks at you. If this were a cartoon, he'd have a question mark hovering over his head right now.

You turn the phone around, showing him the video he's already seen. "They entered a competition for the best storm rig in the state!" 

He bites the inside of his cheek, watching it again. After a moment, those big blue eyes flicker up to you. "...we could beat 'em." 

"You think so?" Is this what you're doing now? 

"I know so." Grinning.

They'll never let you hear the end of this. 

And that's exactly why you find yourself bouncing up to him, your hands bracing themselves on his chest as you lean in to steal a kiss from his waiting lips. Curling a fist in his t-shirt, don't even need to tug for him to fall into line, boots thumping along as you dart back into the room. Scrambling to collect your bags, tripping over him in your effort to shove your pajamas back into the suitcase. 

"Who's drivin'?" He giggles, leaning across you to get the room key. 

The answer is obvious. "I am!" 

Kate and Tyler don't realize you're there until it's too late.