#I love eternally and you won't be able to escape me.

[myeagleexpert]

He wants to love you forever but….

"That unlike a demon whose life doesn´t end and apparence doesn´t change...humans only live for the moment.

And changes can happen just quickly and easily as short time passes.

Like now, the words you sy can change in a instant.

That´s just how human hearts are."

[miranyx1337]

Alastor x reader

FEATHER chapter III

Tags: fluff (for now ) enemies to lovers, kissing, being protective, cuddles, sleeping problems, flirting, possesive reader is an angel, fem reader

He needed a new plan, something that would change her mind about him. He had always been able to enchant women, making them fall for him completely. Maybe that's what he needed now; since the fear of Adam wasn't enough, he needed something deeper – love. It was a strange word for him, when he tried to imagine it, all that came to his mind was a deep desire and craving.

Y/N was definitely one of the things he desired most throughout his afterlife, a gateway to freedom. Escape from the curse he brought upon himself.

The memory of her momentary outburst of anger made him blush, and his hand instinctively went to the ear she had touched.

He was not angry, her touch and closeness weakened his contract, unlocking dormant potential. It made him feel like he had a radio playing in his chest.

This cute angel had to desire his presence enough to bind her soul to him for eternity.

"Vaggie, my dear, how do you feel?" a cheerful radio voice filled the room. The fallen angel quickly scanned the room, looking for his spear.

"Calm down, sweetheart. I just need some information from you," he said, sitting on the other side of the bed, twirling a cane in his hands.

"What do you need, freak? And what are you doing in my and Charlie's bedroom?" she questioned.

"As I said, it's a matter of great importance, and I need information.

Speak before I wake up enough to kick you out."

"What does Y/N like? Generally, what do angels like, what do you find appealing in others? Why did you fall in love with Charlie?"

Vaggie needed to rub her eyes and analyze what the uninvited guest had just said. Why this sudden interest in Y/N? What did he want from her? She was an angel too, there must be something only Y/N could do.

"Listen, I don't know what you're plotting with that devilish smile, but nothing will come of it. She's an ANGEL, and a higher-ranking one at that. Why would she stoop to your level?"

"Let's say that majestic little angel charmed me from the first glance. So, what made you fall in love with Charlie?"

Vaggie couldn't comprehend this sudden alastor interest in love.

"I don't know if you'd understand even if I told you."

"So let me try," his tone sharpened with growing impatience.

I fell in love with Charlie because she was full of love."

This answer didn't help him at all, it even confused him more. Someone being full of love was the complete opposite of him, and yet, many had fallen for him before.

"I told you, you won't understand. She is an angel, she loves goodness, harmony, people ready to help and love."

So, he needed to become a lovely person. Nothing he couldn't do.

She sat behind the bar, helping Husk, occasionally lifting Niffty to dust the shelves, and with one wing, she created a breeze to dry freshly painted Angel nails. She was definitely full of love. Her long white hair tangled in the midst of these various activities.

Ugh he was doing it again, observing her from the shadows when it was time to act. He teleported in front of the counter.

Hello, everyone. What's with all the commotion?"

Charlie said she had a new plan to defeat the attack, so they were preparing for her speech - Niffty explained.

Alastor knew exactly which plan they were talking about, specifically his cannibalistic plan, slowly being put into action. Maybe if he suggested to the little angel that he killed Adam deliberately for her, she would fall at his feet?

Well, she would quickly flew back to the heavens. The death of Adam was no longer an option. A sudden, indescribable fear and shiver ran through his body at the thought. What if she truly left, and he never saw her again?

"Alastor." Snapped out of this sudden panic, he looked directly into bright blue eyes.

,,Alastor, you've turned pale. Is everything okay?" Her hand on his forearm made him feel better.

"Yes, don't worry, sweetheart. It's just a momentary weakness. You, on the other hand, need a little help."

She looked at him disoriented.

Remembering his last thoughtless move, he decided it was better to ask.

,‚Can I?" - pointing to her twisted hair.

Embarrassed by this fact, she turned around, trying to locate the tangle. Indeed, she should tie them up for cleaning. Long fingers in black gloves conjured a thin, decorated comb. Alastor began to slowly and gently untangle her hair, humming an unfamiliar jazz tune under his breath.

The atmosphere became quite specific and romantic, which Angel dust quickly noticed. Quietly, he grabbed Niffty's arm and signaled Husk to go with him to the exit. Some time ago, he noticed that Alastor behaved strangely in the company of his new friend. Especialy when he returned from work and caught him holding one of her lost feathers to his lips. Of course, he pretended to be too high to notice.

Alastor and Y/N didn't even notice that they were left alone, lost in their own thoughts. Y/N couldn't remember the last time someone had combed her hair, let alone so gently. Her attention was drawn to the sudden silence when the demon finished humming behind her. She began to feel awkward, trying to find some point of contact.

"I put a gift from you in the room," - she mumbled.

Alastor looked at her as if awakened from a dream - "Oh, that's great. You like it?"

"I like your touch too; it always makes me feel calmer."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Wait, what did she say? His touch always made her feel calmer. The only time Alastor could remember touching Y/N before was in the hallway when she was furious with him. The only direct touch he remembered.

Alastor swallowed.- "What do you mean, always?"

"Oh, you know, your little games with my feather. You know when you're sleeping with it, I also feel company in my bed ?

He didn't know what to say. She could feel that, every single time he kissed, touched, or bit that little thing, she could feel it.

"Y-you knew? Why didn't you just take it back?"

"Maybe I didn't want to take it back and stop you?"

For the next hundred years, Alastor wouldn't feel as embarrassed as he did at that moment.

Y/N looked at him with those pure eyes, clearly flirting with him. Was that enough? Showing some heart and affection to make an angel fall for you?

She leaned closer to him, their breaths almost touching, and he tightly gripped the edge separating them.

What could he do? No sensible answer appeared in his mind, and he couldn't just turn away or escape. So, he did something he always saw in those cheesy romantic comedies his mother used to watch.

Not knowing exactly what he was doing, he gently and quickly kissed her. It was like the first innocent peck in kindergarten, even though it was his first.

[teddybeirin]

if you have the means, please help us escape our abusive family

the short version: we need out of here, and if you have the means to comfortably help us, you can help us with getting together the funds to try again to escape here (I will edit the goal when I am able to, the progress shown is for our first attempt earlier this year, which did not last)

the long version.. I don't even know where to begin. Our name is Teddy, and we're living in hell, again, and trying to escape it, again. It was so amazing to be out of here. It was better than anything we'd ever experienced before, in our entire life.

I have been so angry with myself for being unable to keep things that way, we undershot the goal by so much that time because I felt ashamed to ask for more than the bare minimum to get out - no leeway for job searching time, or anything else. It was a mistake to do it that way.. following shame usually is, but what's done is done now, and I am trying not to add any more hurt onto my plate beating myself up over such mistakes.

an update was written for the fundraiser itself, I won't copy it in its entirety to here. I know that everyone has it hard right now, and there is so much hurt in the world, mine is only a drop in an ocean - but I am choosing to believe my loved ones when they say that my life is worth trying to save, and so I am asking for help doing that.

we're doing what we can do on our own - I am back to work that I walked away from for the sake of my mental health before on top of trying to build up less ptsd-exacerbating works, because I feel it is maybe my only shot at a decent steady income, to prevent the same from happening again if I manage to get out of here in the first place. I was not even up to snuff to sell burgers.. It is difficult to cover up bruises in order to look appealing.

but for so many reasons, I can't do this on my own. the hurdle is too high to get over to get out, even though I have by now proven that I can do quite a lot in terms of providing for myself - it's hard to keep anything together when you are also constantly in fear, and hurting, and being threatened, and having to hide any money we make and limit what we do to only what can be hidden, so many obstacles, that we are having any success despite them is proof enough to me that I can continue with this if we can get out. but that's if we get out.

that we even had our first time out of here, was a miracle. I am so eternally grateful to everyone who helped us have that, and to everyone who has been encouraging me and helping to support us while we are here again, it means the world to me, it is everything to me. It feels so amazing to be an adult, and be alive, and have people who care for me, it's so much different from how I understood my world to be before in all the best of ways.

if you are safe, and if you have enough for yourself as well as to extend help to another, please consider helping us. 💟

thank you for taking the time to read this, for even considering to help us, for all the ways you all have shown me the warmth of the world.. words cannot express how happy I am even to be able to continue to struggle forwards.

thank you for your kind words, and for sharing this, for helping in what ways you can, I hope that your kindness is returned to you tenfold, I hope that if you are in a situation like mine that you also can have a way forwards, I hope that you are all safe and well-fed. 🧸💗

[sftandwet]

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ DEMONS ★ MOVIE STAR

links : masterlist revil ★ movie star event

content alert : pwp, DARK CONTENT , cnc, rough sex, blood, oral sex , pet names, biting, p in v. DEMON SEX

author's notes ★ I was supposed to do this on Thursday the 12th and post it on Friday the 13th, however, due to limited time I wasn't able to do and post anything :') I wanted to make the story a little rough, I confess, I love the theme of “what the fuck? That shit only happens in movies”, so I exaggerated and I hope I didn't spoil the story . supernatural creature and the language invented so as not to offend any God or religion!! Dirty story, if you don't like reading this category, please don't force yourself, know your limits !! It was supposed to be very small, but it ended up being big

You had meticulously cleaned the attic in preparation for the ritual. You removed all belongings, leaving only a small mirror for you to peek at what could be behind you, and opened the window to prevent the smoke from suffocating you. However, your body shivered with the gentle breeze that entered through the window, causing shivers down your spine. Your lips trembled and your body spasmed as you held the small burning leaf of the tree of the tree. Although it was green, it burned without hesitation, releasing dark smoke and a sweet fragrance that spread throughout the attic. As you noticed the flame gradually changing color, you closed your eyes and lips, adjusted your posture carefully to avoid smudging the chalk that covered the floor, and finally took a deep breath, feeling the gusts of fresh air enter your lungs.

"Ahnev éta mi rovaf rop¹", master, I beg for your arrival," you whisper, passing the tree leaf of the tree engulfed in flames between your chest, neck, and lips. The sheet slowly wilts, transitioning from black to yellow, expelling the sweet scent and the bitter smell that prevails in the room, gradually fading away.

Your body feels hollow inside, your eyes seem to tear up without reason, although such actions startle you, you continue with your ritual.

You feel hands running through your hair, a gentle caress that tugs lightly, accompanied by a cold breath in your ear. Your body jumps in surprise, but you force yourself to keep your eyes closed, your lips tremble and tears threaten to escape, yet you bite your lip and hold yourself back. 

"Ednam mu sod sues sotirípse arap o otnartoc²", with a shaky voice and trembling hands, you continue the path of the sheet, passing it over your nose, eyebrows, and forehead. The ritual instructed you to pass it over your head until the spirit was with you. You pass it through your hair, hesitantly stretching your arm up to the top of your head, a little further back, sobbing as you feel the small sheet pass through a barrier and your fingers touch a face.

Your heart races, and even though you know that the existence of that being would never harm you, you cry like never before, feeling fear disrupt your breathing, making you breathe heavily through your mouth, trying to find the right rhythm for the torturous balls of oxygen to stop entering your lungs; however, nothing seems to work, blurring your vision and making your eyes even more teary.

"Shh, my dear... I won't hurt you." Your body freezes, and the hand that was in your hair rests on your face, caressing it slowly, running the nails along your cheek, gently descending down your neck and returning until the fingers rest on your cheek.

"Breathe slowly, love. If you don't, our encounter will be eternal," he laughs at you, adjusting the straps of your dress and planting a kiss on your shoulder.

You try to calm yourself, desperately trying to quiet down the frantic breaths your brain forced upon you, feeling little pats on your head and gentle strokes. He's still behind you, his gaze burning like embers, and despite the chilly touches, the warmth emanating from his body is questioning.

"I feel alone, despite the presence of the host. Speak to me. You summoned me here, and ignoring me wouldn't be a good thing to do."

Swallowing the dry lump in your throat, you take a deep breath and try to look behind you, but you see nothing but darkness. 

"I'm sorry, it's still new to me. It wasn't my intention to ignore you," you murmur, placing the burnt leaf of the tree on the little table beside you. "Could you please be kind enough to reveal yourself to me? And also, please tell me how I should address you." 

You close your eyes, following the ritual's rules to the letter. Your head bows down, hands open, exuding absolute trust towards the being standing before you. A warm breeze caresses your body, and at last, you open your eyes, catching a glimpse of him seated on the armchair you carefully arranged.

The sight freezes you in place, for the umpteenth time tonight. He is simply breathtaking, with fair skin and shimmering blue eyes, reflecting a blend of sadness and depth within the irises. His lips are red, and his blond hair shines brilliantly, complementing his robust physique draped in black attire, which accentuates his muscles and skin.

"Call me Leon. So... what do you seek from us?" he says, his voice captivating. You reply, bowing and crawling on your knees, clasping your hands as a gesture of respect. "Sir, I seek wealth or a lucrative occupation to secure my sustenance. I have been plagued by a streak of misfortune, where nothing seems to hold or remain stable," you sigh, making eye contact with him, adjusting your dress, and offering a charming smile. "If you could grant me stability, I would be fully satisfied, my Lord. I promise to do anything."

Intrigued and curious, Leon looks at you, smiling slightly at you.  "What can you offer me that would benefit me?" 

You promptly respond, "My soul, Master." He bursts into laughter, rising from the armchair and moving closer to you. Firmly holding your face, he plunges his gaze deep into your eyes.

"My dear, I do not deal with souls. They hold no value to me. You can do whatever you want with your soul. I seek something more enduring.  he whispers, gradually nearing your ear. "Something enjoyable that I can relish throughout this physical existence. What can you offer us, my dear?"

A shiver runs down your spine, causing your skin to tingle. Instinctively, you pull away slightly from Leon, locking your gaze with his. You feel enchanted by those velvety blue eyes. "Something enduring... For how long?"

“Until this body perishes. As long as there is life within this vessel, our agreement shall be upheld,”  he smiles at you, delicately playing with the straps of your dress. “The choice is yours; offer me something and I shall grant you everything you desire.” 

“So, what do you decide? Remember, this choice will be irreversible, so be absolutely certain.” 

You contemplate the vastness of his blue eyes, hesitating with your response. Throughout the pact, you have made impulsive decisions, offering only your simple soul, despite it not being what the spirits desired. However, witnessing the tide of misfortune that has engulfed you, you finally reach your verdict.

“I accept, though I have only my body to offer, I believe it can be fair.”  Your heart races as your trembling hands glide across Leon's face. You feel his skin, cool and smooth beneath your fingertips, watching him slowly close his eyes as if surrendering to a profound pleasure. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize that your touch causes him to advance slowly, moving up onto your body, sliding between your legs, entrapping you.

“Somav rales o odroca, roma.  Iuqa eta o  otesr ed ahnim aicnetsixe.” ── ( Let's seal the contract, love. here for the rest of my existence) 

He lays on top of you, slowly pulling your dress down, making you sigh with the cold touches of his fingers, which passed over your shoulders and slowly descended between your breasts, taking the fabric with it, removing it from your body each time. 

“you're so beautiful”  he murmurs, running his nose under your neck, gently licking the skin, feeling the vein pulsate, pumping your blood quickly. 

The intensity of desire dominating every fiber of his being, making him yearn for you even more. You, completely naked, feel the cold air from the attic envelope your body. However, an overwhelming wave of heat washes over you, like mysterious flames coursing through your being. Your eyes meet Leon's, who smiles softly. 

Resting your back slowly under the floor, you sigh as you feel Leon running his sharp nails slowly under your breasts, sliding down, scratching your belly until he reaches your pelvis, where his hand stops and you moan softly. He sat on the floor, grabbing the bottom of your thighs, opening you up to him. He almost moaned at the beautiful sight, your beautiful slit glistening with his essence, clit begging for his attention. 

 “I guess someone got excited about the idea, hmm?” 

His index and middle fingers slowly separated your vaginal lips, spreading his cum across your pussy, watching her sigh and her hips roll against his hand. Leon kneels, coming face to face with her needy cunt and his tongue applies pressure to your wet clit, feeling the cum on your taste buds.

Grabbing the point of pleasure on your thin lips, he sucked skillfully, pulled your leg and brought your hips closer to his beautiful face, you didn't hesitate to clumsily grab his blonde hair and pull him closer, feeling the overwhelming pleasure manipulate your body, making your hips rub against his face, feeling the light brush of his nose. 

In a brutal way, Leon pulls you and lies down on the floor, leaving you on top of his face, rubbing your pussy on his face. You move back a little, raising your hips suddenly, however, pulling your thighs tightly, making your pussy fit tightly into Leon's mouth.

“L-Leon!” you moaned shamelessly, eyes closed, mouth wide open and hands in Kennedy's hair. “yes, like that, my good girl, moan my name, don’t be shy. I want to hear all the moans you make while you ride my face . ”

Leon sucked you in an unprecedented way, hugged her leg tightly and ate you cunt desperately. Penetrating his tongue inside you, sliding between the soft, wet walls of your pussy, quickly thrusting in and out, making a mess.

Leon holds your hip bone, rubbing your cunt on your tongue as he leans in, and licks straight up your already weeping pussy.

“F-Fuck, Iー I-I... I'm going to c-um...Leon! ー you scream, feeling tears come out of your eyes and my pussy tighten around his tongue.

You cum on his face and, even though you cum, Leon doesn't stop fucking you. Sucking and nibbling on your clit, while your thighs trembled, he ignored it, just focusing on eating your luscious cunt and enjoying fucking you. He sucked you pussy, his tongue sometimes massaged your clit very quickly, sucking and spitting on her clit making your even wetter. 

“Your pussy is the best thing I’ve ever eaten, baby.”    

Leon turns you around and puts you on the floor, kneeling between your legs, watching your pussy spill out as he unbuckles his belt and pulls down his underwear, his cock springs deliciously out; His length was veiny, long and girthy, tip leaking with a small bead of precum.

Instantly, your legs close and rub against each other, feeling the lubrication slide down your pussy. The rough and firm hands gently separate your legs, holding both legs and placing them on his shoulder, pulling your hips closer to his cock. 

Leon stuck his hard cock inside you, penetrating quickly, sliding inside your soft, wet walls, feeling the pleasure take over your body. His expression turned you on, his heavy breathing and his hoarse voice in your ear, his eyes lowered and the darkness swallowing the blue irises that set you on fire. He kissed your neck, licking the sweaty skin, avoiding biting. It would be fatal to bite you in a vital spot. Leon's cock was plunging inside you and slamming into your womb with a precision that was nothing short of bringing you to the brink of tears, fucking you hard, trying his best to ram his cock as deep as he could. to take. He lies on top of you, pressing his bare chest against your breasts, crushing them, while his mouth approaches yours, breathing heavily against your lips. 

Your eyes were watering, your chest was rising and falling uncontrollably, you felt him slide into your pussy and pull out, fucking your pussy roughly, grabbing your legs tightly, stretching you and scratching your skin. You could glimpse the trickles of blood coming from your calves, you didn't care, focused on your pussy being fucked you didn't feel the burning on your skin. 

“Your pussy feels so good— Damn!” he groaned, pulling away, getting on his knees, while still holding onto your legs. After seeing the flow of blood, Leon smiles at you with purple eyes, taking your injured calf and licking it then, continuing with his tongue out, showing his bloody tongue. “Apparently it's not just pussy that tastes good” 

Inevitably your legs shook at his tone of voice and your hands grabbed your abdomen, digging into your shirt, scratching it in the same rhythm as his balls hit yours hard. skin, feeling your nails linger on the soft flesh of his muscles, feeling him tremble beneath your fingers. 

“Leon!” you moaned desperately “p-please, I’m going to cum, stop it!, I-” 

“Shit. Just take it, bae” He whispered in your ear, picking you up and pressing you against the wall next to the ritual, getting deeper and deeper, biting your shoulder and moving down your face a little more to reach your breasts where he sucked your nipples, biting, licking and sucking them, feeling the spasms of your body. Leon became more and more rough, even ignoring a scream of pleasure escaping your throat as you felt that heat in your abdomen dissipate and expand in an orgasm, tightening your legs around his hips, clawing at his back, like a desperate plea for him to keep hitting that sweet spot inside you. 

You couldn't see properly due to the tears of pleasure, your eyes became increasingly heavy, but the brief view you had from the small mirror abandoned in the attic was the best; Leon's back was covered in scratches and you had marks, scratches and bites on your calves. 

“F-Fuck” he grunted, pulling his dick out of your pussy, penetrating you again until he felt his base was completely inside you.

“Cum on my cock, I want to feel you” You came with a loud scream, your body shaking as Leon continued eating your wet hole, then you felt him cum, he quickly pulled out and cum on your belly, protecting it tightly , putting your face on your neck. Leon can't control himself and bites his neck hard, sending shocks through his body as thick jets come out of his dick. 

“Oh! Leon” you hit his shoulder trying to get away quickly, he moves away and looks worried.

“ M’ sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you” 

“And cut!” The director comes close to you with his hand on his forehead and looks at Leon. “Leon, I told you not to bite really hard, it has to be superficial, like a calf injury, remember that.”

“Sorry, I ended up getting carried away” He says regretfully, wrapping your legs even more around your waist, looking more at your neck, running his hand lightly over the area. "I'm sorry, darling." 

“Okay, Lee” You smile at him, running your hands through his wet hair. 

“Okay, okay. Let's go again! Get ready! Lights, cameras and action! ”

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 10 (Part 1 of 2)

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; extreme feelings of stress and anxiety; feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; allusions to a dark, forgotten childhood; therapy; EMDR therapy; arguing/raising of voices; heart issues (POTs); use of heart monitors; hemoglobin kits mentioned; jealousy; body changes as a result of pregnancy; negative self-talk; baby talk galore; pregnancy hormones (. . .but just wait for part 2 lol); reader continues being sad while she checks Jake out... but now we see jake being sad while he checks reader out lol; mild description of oral sex (m! receiving) (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 27.4k+

a/n: hi, loves :) i am sorry for the wait! won't go into detail, but life is a mf beast rn, and i'm rolling w it the best i can. this is a hobby. and while it does take up the majority of my free time, it is also not my main job! so, please be patient as life isn’t easy!

without further ado, here is chapter 10, pt 1... you will get pt 2 tomorrow - it is all set and ready to upload, but i must let the anticipation rise after pt 1. ;)

part 1 includes a hell-ton of stuff that i've been waiting to write - and been waiting for you to read! eek! this chapter is the beginning of a ~new chapter~ in everyone's lives... so, strap in <3 things are about to get real interesting......

as usual, thank you to my lovely sister @joshym for being my encourager and for aiding in expanding on ideas when i feel stuck as hell lol i love you more than words can properly articulate <3

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

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

"Conscience and covetousness are never to be reconciled; like fire and water they always destroy each other, according to the predominancy of the element."

-Jeremy Collier

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 17, 2022

After several moments of standing there, you started to feel very naked under Jake’s stare. 

The realization that you were still butt-fucking-naked under your towel had you wanting to escape the entire situation. It added one more reason why you wanted to hide in your room for all of eternity.

You didn’t know how to process what had just happened. . . All you knew was that any idea of a nice talk where you revealed the truth to him. . . Was gone. 

He knew now. And you were freaking the fuck out. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

There was no doubting her. Not for a single second. The baby was mine and I’d known it in my heart before I asked. 

I really just wanted to hear her say it. 

During our time together, just like she’d been it for me, I knew in my heart that I’d been it for her. I’d known her, backwards and forwards. And, within that time that I knew her so well, we’d become close. So close that, without meaning to make it—us— more, we’d made it more. 

I gave her a better look, not able to put into words what the fuck I was feeling. Let my eyes trail down her body, covered only by a towel. 

She adjusted her towel, tighter around her body. Was she self conscious? She shouldn’t have been. She was always beautiful. And I was afraid pregnancy was only going to enhance her beauty. . . I noticed as she tightened her towel, the action made her full breasts spill even more from the top of the towel. I averted my eyes, willing my dick to not react. Instead, I trained my eyes below, on her belly. 

And now that I knew, I could see. Even through the fluffiness of the towel, I could see a certain roundness to her belly that had never been there before. A full-blown bump. Still small by some standards, but big enough that I should have fucking noticed. 

Not able to help it, my eyes scanned her heaving chest, the tops of her tits fully exposed above the towel. It made so much sense why I’d noticed them looking bigger. . . Because they were bigger. Growing. Every day. To nourish our baby. 

Our baby.

I looked away from her. . . I couldn’t look at her right now. Not when she— when I. . . God.

How had I been so oblivious?! I lived with her for Christ’s sake. Was it my fault that I hadn’t allowed myself to be more present in her life? Was it because I was seeing Maya now? God. No. It wasn’t on me to watch for things like that anymore. Not since she’d told me that I’d served my purpose. That I was just convenient. . . And all of the other hateful shit she’d spit in my face that day in the kitchen. 

The day my heart fucking broke after pounding in my chest. . . Pleading with her to help me understand all of it. But she hadn't fucking stopped . . . Just kept going. Breaking me. Saying things I never, in a million years, ever wanted to hear from her. 

I’d let her become more in my life. I thought it was meant to last. Thought that she had become my someone. More than relationship. More than friends. She had just . . . Been there. She’d nestled into a place made just for her in my heart. Like she was supposed to have been there all along. 

I’d never wanted her to leave. But she’d wanted to. She’d put her foot down, not leaving any goddamn room for argument. 

And my heart. . . Fucking broken after beating the hardest it ever had in my chest. . . Shattered into an infinite number of tiny shards at my feet. I’d spent days picking up the shreds, my hands getting cut every time I tried to fix in me what she’d torn apart. There was a part of me that knew exactly why she’d done it. I fucking knew. Knew that she didn’t think she deserved happiness or some shit. But there was no use in entertaining what I knew when she refused to acknowledge the truth. 

The night we’d smoked and I’d told her that I— and then she’d told me that she— Jesus. The moment had been so real, so solid. . . The words had fallen from my lips without any hint of question. Even being under the influence, I felt the connection we’d made in that moment. I thought about the words everyday for weeks after I’d left the kitchen on that hellish day. 

Then there was the transcendental sex we’d had when we made it into her room that night. She’d been so wet, waiting for me. . . Fuck it all. Wait— not— no. The night we’d smoked. . . We hadn’t used protection. Was that when—?

The inside of my brain was just going fucking insane and I couldn’t— goddammit!

I ran a hand through my hair a couple of times, the other one still holding my keys. I  needed to do something with both of my hands. Besides balling them into fists and creating divets in one palm with my fingertips and the other with my keys.

I was tired of just standing there, in front of this woman I’d fallen for at a time when I thought I’d never wanted to love again. . . The same woman who’d shattered me. And, now, the very same woman who was carrying my child. . . 

There was no use in trying to organize any thoughts. Pacing seemed to be the only option. So, back and forth, back and forth, I walked in about a foot of space. Just waded in these uncharted fucking waters. All I knew at this moment was she was pregnant. And she’d lied to me about it. 

How long had she—? How far along was—?

And why in the hell had Josh known before me?! Of all fucking people . . . Fuck! 

“Jake,” her voice tore through the catastrophic mess of shit in my head. 

I didn’t look at her. How could I? When she’d left me in the dark. Once again, prioritized Josh over me. Even when it came to my child. Absolutely fucking incredible.

“Jake, please,” she muttered, voice cracking on the word please. My heart couldn’t handle the sound. “I can’t— I’m not in the right state of mind to just stand here and—.” I stopped pacing and peered up at her finally, my hair surely a mess around my hot face when I let my eyes pierce hers. 

But as soon as I made eye contact with her, I softened. I hated to see her cry. Hated it. And the sobs suddenly wracking her were unexpected. It hurt my heart to stand there and watch her like that. 

But— she’d brought this on herself. Right?! Fuck. 

As much as I wanted to walk to her and hug her, I didn’t. I stayed where I was, offering a half-assed look of pity. It wasn’t her turn to hurt over this. I was the one just finding out. Not her.

“Y/n,” I tried, weakly. But god it sucked to say her name right now. “Just— god. There are so many—.”

“Questions, I know,” she finished, walking a couple hesitant steps toward me. But I took two back, away from her. 

The way her body slacked at my action made me want to take it back. There were a lot of things I wanted to do. Some understandable, some not so much. I wanted to cry. Kiss her. Hug her. Feel her. Help her. Scream at her. 

But, she was right. I did have so many fucking questions. 

“How long?” I asked, breath shallow, never letting my eyes leave hers. 

She kept up, not looking away from me. “How long have I known? Or how long have I been—?”

“Both.”

“I—,” she stuttered, closing her eyes tight, her beautiful face contorted in what I could only assume was emotional turmoil. 

I watched as she balled her fists, clenching them a few times. Then, as she released them, she seemed to plant her feet firmly on the floor— her body, rigid and straight. 

When she opened her eyes and found mine again, I could clearly see the tears that had accumulated on her lashes. And her eyes, that would forever take my breath away, were daring to shed more of them.

“Don’t cry,” I couldn’t help but calmly reassure her, my voice soft as I went to stand closer to her again. Not close. Just— closer. “Just. . . keep going. Talk me through it. Talk us through it.” 

She breathed deeply, in and out, once. I strained to not let my eyes fall to her chest— to admire the way her fuller breasts would rise and fall. . . I resisted, focusing on her eyes. Her face, rivaling all gods of beauty. . . 

After taking one more calming breath, she began. “I’m three months along,” she paused momentarily, as if thinking of something. “Three months today, actually.”

Three months.

“And how long have you known?”

“I’ve known for about a month,” she responded, bringing her shoulders higher and sniffling once. She blinked once, tightening her fists once more. “That’s not to say I told anyone right away. I kept it to myself. I was scared. I didn’t know what the fuck to do.”

I let her words sit in the air for a few minutes, thought them through at least five times before I couldn’t keep the next question to myself any longer. 

“When did Josh find out?” 

Her jaw flexed as her fists bunched up; eyebrows, drawn together as she glanced down briefly, her eyes snapping back to mine. “Why the fuck is that important right now?”

Oh, she wanted to get angry? Okay.

“Seriously?” I said, my tone sharp as I pointed a finger at her. “You telling my brother about my baby before me is pretty fucking disheartening. Especially when I — fuck. You know why it’s important.”

“I’m sorry. . . I’m stuck on something you said. . . When you called it your baby,” she leveled, stepping toward me once. I didn’t move, only stood taller and sighed deeply, nostrils flared. “Please, tell me more. About how you’re the one who had to find out all by herself. And if you’re the one who had to find out all by herself, you’re probably also the one who’s going to have to stretch her body out to carry this baby for the next six months,” her voice rose with every word she spoke. She sighed, a smile shaking on her lips, yet lacking any positive emotion. “I must’ve fucking forgotten.”

All I could do was stare at her; because, in spite of all of that truth, I was still angry with her. She’d twisted my words. She knew what I fucking meant. 

She just wanted an opportunity to pin something on me in her moment of insecurity. 

It was definitely something she would do in a state of upset. Hell, it was something I would do. Without a thought. I was known for it. Could I be upset with her for doing the same thing? Dammit. I just felt conflicted as hell — didn’t know how to feel about it all. 

I was happy. Really. Truly. Completely over the moon ecstatic at getting to be a father. I just— I couldn’t wrap my mind around the idea of it. All of the information, the reality of my life. . . It wasn’t sinking in worth shit. Though, at the same time, it felt so incredibly real. 

On the same hand, I also felt completely betrayed to not know a damned thing until this moment. It was fine that she waited to tell me. No question about that. But telling Josh before me still pissed me the fuck off. . . And it would until she understood why it made me so angry. 

She’d confided in him about the baby I helped her make. When she hadn’t even told me. Probably hadn’t even been planning on telling me anytime fucking soon. Because of her determination to keep me out of the loop when it came to our child, I’d had to find out on my own. By accident. 

All because I was a motherfucking identical twin. What were the chances of that shit?

I didn’t get to have a moment of joy at the thought of being a father because I was too busy reading how grateful she was for Josh amidst this pregnancy. All I could think about was how she hadn’t been grateful for me. Hadn’t been grateful enough to keep me in her life. 

She’d pushed me out. But not Josh. Definitely not Josh. She would never say to Josh what she said to me in the kitchen.

I couldn’t take it.

Unable to control my actions, I started acting before thinking. . . Not even looking at her, I focused only on the keys in my hand, still waiting for me to go somewhere. I had to go somewhere. Had to get the fuck out of the apartment that had brought me both my greatest days and my most heartbreaking. 

And this day was officially both.

Pulling the door open without even thinking about it, seeing through blurred tunnel vision, I heard her say my name, once again choking on sobs behind me. Even after I closed the door, she continued to wail my name. 

My heart was longing to stay back with her. Begging me to stay where I knew I needed to. The guilt was heavy. Baby or not, my heart yearned for the woman. Even when I shouldn’t want her, I did. And I really shouldn’t after what she’d said in the kitchen.

I knew it was a dick move to leave. I knew it. But I had to. Couldn’t explain it. So, with blurred vision and hearing her repeat my name and begging me not to leave, I continued down the cemented, outdoor hallway and to the stairs. 

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

Gone. Found out about it and then he was just. . . gone. 

You stood there long enough to let him walk back through the door. Until he might’ve come back, ready to make things right.

You waited too long. But when you started getting a chill from standing there in your towel, you were suddenly ready to put some clothes on. Ready to hide. Maybe Jake had the right idea to run away.

In the case he didn’t come back tonight, you didn’t want to be waiting for him all night, getting your hopes up. . . only to have them crushed.

Your heart was already burning in your chest, all the way down to the pit of your stomach, at the worry of him not returning.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You firmly decided on leaving for a bit. Follow his lead. You went about your business to get your ass out of your home before it swallowed you whole in your fears and worries of Jake.

But. . . driving sounded stupid as hell. You wouldn’t have been able to see past the clouds of tears in your eyes to safely arrive at your destination. And, as sad as you were, you weren’t sad enough to want to wreck your car. The baby’s life was the first you considered. But–then. . . you realized you had a burning desire to keep going for you, too. . . despite Jake leaving, you wanted to keep going. The sadness hadn’t completely overtaken you.

So, you’d wisely decided to schedule an Uber. And while you waited, you hastily pulled your cute gray sweatsuit (thank you, TikTok shop) onto your body as quickly as you could, making sure to put on a sports bra underneath to hold your boobs in place. They continued to hurt like hell. You really needed to get a maternity bra.

And then, after you’d fed Stevie, you waited for the Uber and prayed that it would show up before Jake got back home. 

Well. . .if he came back home tonight. It was very bold of you to just assume he would. Why would he want to return? Your own mother left you because you weren’t worth anything. And tonight, Jake had made it perfectly clear he felt the same way your mom had.

The Uber showed up in no time. . .sooner than you’d scheduled for it to arrive. 

As the black Toyota Solara finally came into view, you wiped your tears for the millionth time since Jake had left. The sobs that wracked your chest hadn’t stopped painting your cheeks since he’d walked out the door. Because, well, he had left you. The one person you wanted with you for this had left when you needed him most.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Applebee’s. The sign to the restaurant had you feeling the urge to do happy dance, even amidst your raging emotions. But you concealed it for the sake of your Uber driver.

For the past few days, you’d been craving their alfredo specifically. The fear of ruining it like you’d ruined so many other foods, had kept you from DoorDashing it. 

But tonight? Tonight you’d decided to treat yourself, and instead of being scared that you’d throw it all up, you took the chance. Thus, scheduling the Uber to drive you to fucking Applebee’s. Of all places.

You’d been sitting for probably five minutes at a booth (comfortably, but definitely lonely), when the rain started pouring down outside your booth’s window. 

And at approximately the same time, you noticed the large group of men around your age at the bar, backwards baseball caps and muscles presumably only huge from steroids. They were screaming at the top of their lungs as a football game droned on on the TV in front of them.

The rain, the jocks. . . made you long for your bed immediately. . . Made you wish you would have just stayed home to wallow for the sole opportunity of letting the thunder lull you to a (much needed) restful sleep. Though, based on the night’s events, you weren’t sure how peaceful that slumber would actually be. Or how quickly it would come.

Thankfully, the prospect of going home came as soon as you started longing for it. The young waitress came by to ask for your drink order, but you went ahead and ordered the alfredo you’d been craving – along with the soft pretzels and cheese which automatically stood out to you when you’d opened the menu. 

Now all you were hoping was that you wouldn’t end up vomiting your guts up over your toilet later. Or worse, all over an Uber driver. You were taking a chance. This was the first time you’d eaten out since starting your new journey of eating and nausea meds. 

Speaking of, you promptly popped a PregEase in your mouth, directly from the stash in your belt bag slung across your chest.

You were thankful for the meds, but at the moment, you were actually totally fine with risking it. The one reason being: food was working as a pretty fantastic distraction from your problems for the time being. So. . . you were letting it do its job.

When the waitress brought your water out to you, your phone started buzzing and ringing in your belt bag, succeeding in interrupting you thanking her. The reverberations felt so good against your boobs (don’t fucking judge); at this point, you were convinced your chest was bound to feel like two heavy bags of tiny nails, for the rest of your life. Nothing brought them relief, and the phone felt surprisingly nice.

She kindly smiled, bringing your attention back to her from your boobs, saying she'd be back soon with your appetizer. You responded with a similar smile to hers and went about balancing all of the shit in your belt bag to get your phone out. 

You figured it was probably Elsie. She was the one most likely to be calling you at this time of night. She was known for using the late hour to openly vent to you about her day. Though, since Josh, the calls had become fewer and fewer. 

Finally getting the phone out and peeking at the screen, you were suddenly wishing it was Elsie. Because, the name staring back at you was making your tummy feel like swirling electricity. 

The process of getting your phone out had taken long enough, though, that you’d missed the call completely. You weren’t sure if it was a bullet dodged or a missed opportunity you were instantaneously longing to happen again.

You didn’t have to contemplate it for too long before his name was lighting up your screen again. And it was admittedly weird seeing his name with your current lockscreen wallpaper. . . A couple days ago, you’d impulsively taken a picture of the sonogram picture from your first appointment and made it your wallpaper. 

What if you’d accidentally left your phone where he could find it? Damn. Were you wanting him to find out on his own? Was that going to be your pussy ass way of telling him? Or were you just being impulsive and dumb?

Once again, the call went to voicemail. Except, there wasn’t time for him to leave one with how quickly he was calling you back.

Goddamn, y/n. Answer, your inner encourager forced you impatiently.

Swallowing thickly, you went to slide your finger over to answer. Your body was swimming with an increasing amount of anxiety. But, you answered it.

“Hello?” You spoke faintly, your belly flip flopping. 

He’s probably calling to say he’s packing his shit and moving out.

“Where are you?!” He asked, his voice ragged and worried. Uneven with what could only be fear. “I got home and you weren’t here and I’m freaking the fuck out. Are you okay? Are you safe? Are you with someone?”

Wait. What? Why was he scared?

For some reason, you wanted to be obtuse and not answer his questions. Apparently you were just feeling like an asshole tonight. You didn’t know. You were just tired as hell and didn’t know how to approach him. You wanted to tell him. But, you didn’t.

“I’m fine. I’m just not home.”

“Y/n. Fucking duh. I just told you I’m here,” he replied, impatient but still concerned. “Where are you?”

“What if I don’t want to tell you?” Lie.

He sighed. You could imagine him running a hand across his forehead. His eyes were most likely closed, out of patience. Damn. You’d gotten real used to stressing him out if you could guess the motions.

“Then don’t, I guess,” he relented, voice tense and irritated. “Can you just let me know you’re safe?”

As if on cue, the guys at the bar went ballistic. It made you tense up and roll your eyes at the disruption they were causing to the entire restaurant. But, specifically how they were shouting in the middle of you talking to Jake.  

“Are you at a party?” He gaped, sounding utterly shocked.

Yet again, the men started screaming at the top of their lungs, proceeding to yell a variation of the words Yes! and go-go-go-go!, plus a bunch of other shit you couldn’t understand.

You couldn’t help the growl that came from your mouth, your eyes slowly closing in annoyance. “No, Jacob. Do you really think I’d be at a party?”

“Jesus, sorry,” he apologized. He let out a deep sigh, causing the speaker to rattle a little into your ear. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m worried about you.”

Worried about–? What?

Lay off of him, y/n. You were crying buckets before you left home because you wanted him so badly. Come on. You know he is not the cause of the football fuckers going ham. Don’t take it out on him.

You let out a giant sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Tried to tune out the men to your left. Because Jake. Jake was on the phone. And it didn’t take rocket science to know that you really wanted to see him. Quite frankly, you felt the need to see him. 

But. . .did he want to see you? Or was he just being kind? Only worried about you because he was a decent human being? With no underlying, deeper meaning other than you being pregnant and alone? Did it make you weak if you told him where you were? 

Who cares? Just tell him.

“I’m at Applebee’s,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead before placing the same hand over your round belly to trace shapes against it. 

“Are you with someone?” He asked, tone smooth with a slight edge behind it.

“No, Jake,” you grumbled. Why did he care?

“Do you want me there?” He questioned apprehensively, sounding like it was what he wanted.

But why? He’d left you.

“Do you want to be here?”

“Yes–well,” he paused. “Only if you want me there.”

“Do you think I want you here?”

Why the game of 20 Questions, y/n? His night has already been hard enough.

You knew why. You were avoiding the impending confrontation of seeing him again. Just as much as you did want to see him, you were putting it off because you were nervous. There was no telling what would be said. Would he leave again? Would he say he didn’t want to be in the child’s life? Did it even matter?

“Yes,” he softly responded, waiting for you to confirm or deny.

He was right. And he’d unintentionally answered both of your questions. Yes, it mattered and yes, you wanted him here.

So, after telling him which Applebee’s you were at, he told you he’d be there soon and to stay put before he hung up. The sloppy jocks suddenly started cheering again, clapping each other’s backs. Though, in spite of them, you couldn’t help the quiet smile that swept over your lips.

He was coming for you.

-🌼🌼🌼-

There were about ten minutes between your apartment and Applebee’s, so you waited. 

Just ten minutes. But time crawled.

You were equal parts excited and terrified to see him. The only plausible solution to ease you while you waited, was to watch the door. Your brain was tripping over questions and curiosities all based around him, but just like you’d tried to do all night, you ignored them. Just watched. the. door. 

In reality, you really didn’t have much time to think about a whole lot before Jake was walking through the doors.  Not wearing a rain jacket (or a jacket of any sort) to cover him from the rain. . . which meant he was soaking. wet.

And oh no no no no. . . seeing him like that was not good for your baby hormones. Fuck. Why hadn’t he grabbed one before he left the apartment?!

He was going to catch a cold.

To be totally truthful, you were quite happy he hadn’t put one on. . . Reason being, you could see every single droplet that dripped from his hair. . .that touched his skin. You watched each one fall from the long strands of his wavy locks. Some dripped one-by-one, down the thick column of his neck. And others, directly to the tanned skin of his chest. . . Some even trailing to a hidden place underneath his shirt. . .

He was wearing a light blue button down, the material completely stained from the heavy, unrelenting downpour. You wanted to just peel it off of him–take care of him. You wanted to remove each piece of clothing, carefully dry every part of his body. . .

Not even meaning to, you caught yourself biting your lower lip before soothing it with a lick of your lips. . . 

Okay, y/n. Biting and licking your lips? Seriously?! Stop.

You turned around, pinching your eyes shut. Honestly, ogling over him in this very public space was not ideal. Shouldn’t have been ogling him at all. He wasn’t yours. But dammit your body couldn’t help but heat in his presence. 

Though, the atmosphere of the restaurant did not match your mood at all. In addition to the hoard of men with their beer, the place had become busier – bustling with groups of women and men alike. 

The football guys were still the worst part. You were getting sick of them–on your last nerve.

The continuous hooting and hollering that emitted from the men was obnoxious at best. Stereotypical men. In their natural habitat. They hadn’t stopped acting like heathens during the game and whooped loudly at every Republican ad that played during the commercial breaks. . . Beer bottles repeatedly clanged against each other. You were coming to realize there was zero chance of them quieting down. 

And suddenly it dawned on you that the idea of having to talk to Jake in an Applebee’s, during a (presumably important) football game, sounded dreadful. Having white college men as background noise was the last thing you wanted.

You looked back over towards the door, anxious to set eyes on a real man. Only to find he was finally making his way to you. His shoulders, broad, but shaking and shivering. He kept his arms tightly at his sides, hands in pockets and arms flexing with the shivers, beneath the thin material of his button down. 

You didn’t look too long, though. . . Turned back around — didn’t want to stare long enough for him to catch you. You shook your thoughts away. And for the first time since you’d sat down, the young, drunken men were slightly welcomed as they helped to keep you nailed down to the present with their ludicrous screams. 

Before you knew it, his body came into your view, walking down the small aisle to your table. God, he was handsome. Even with flushed cheeks and wet hair sticking to his face, he was beautiful. 

When Jake finally slid into the booth, he was still shaking off his chill. He cupped his hands around his mouth and breathed harshly into them before clapping and rubbing them together under the table. You knew you were in a daze watching him and you’d stay that way if you didn’t try to speak soon.

“Are you trying to catch a fucking cold?” You hastily questioned him, raising your eyebrow for emphasis. 

He stilled momentarily, setting a steady glare your way. “I rushed here. I didn’t think about grabbing one before just focusing on getting here.”

“Why the rush? You knew I was safe.”

“I was anxious to see you.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. So anxious to not grab a cover for this rainstorm? Why? 

“But you’re the one who left me,” you responded hesitantly after taking a minute to consider his words.

Suddenly, he stopped shaking. He cast his eyes down, sweeping over the table as he chewed at the inside of his cheek. 

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he muttered before glancing up at you with eyes that read regret. “It was not the right decision. I know that and I’m so sorry. But I was just feeling a shit ton of emotions and I— I didn’t know what else—.”

“To do. I know,” you finished for him, nodding along to remind him he’d already mentioned that. “That’s not a valid excuse.”

He looked about ready to agree, but then his brows wrinkled and he tilted his head. He looked unsure. “I’m not sure if it’s valid or not, but it’s definitely not an excuse. I quite honestly didn’t know how the fuck to react, so that’s how I chose to feel it. Just needed to leave and refresh by—.”

“By fucking Maya?” You bit back.

What–?

Shit. Where the hell did those words come from? You hadn’t even. . . fuckfuckfuck. Nothing like fully exposing feelings you harbored.

“Excuse me?” He clipped back, voice alternating to a deeper tone. Aggravated. 

You stuttered out a reply the best you could. “I–I was– I didn’t mean to–,” you bowed your head, ashamed of yourself. “I don’t know where that came from. I’m sorry.”

Really, you were very sorry. It was uncalled for. 

His response was unexpected. “Don’t be sorry,” he softly said, sighing. Your eyes drew up, waiting to hear what else he had to say. You were not expecting him to reassure you. If you were in his shoes, you’d be appalled. He was rubbing his forehead when he tiredly responded, “Emotions are high right now.”

“Yeah, I guess. Except. . . I don’t really have a reason to be a bitch because I’ve already dealt with this,” you explained, motioning to your belly at the word this. “I’ve accepted it and I need to just. . . calm down.”

He snorted a laugh, brushing the tip of his nose with his pointer finger. The black hair-tie wrapped around his middle finger flashed into view. “Y/n, honey,” he started. But–you were slightly incoherent. Honey? What the fu–? “You’ve always been emotional. In all situations. No matter what,” he blew out a breath, a shiver running up his spine. He was drying off, slowly but surely. “I, of all people, would know.”

That last bit distracted you momentarily from him calling you a pet name. A sweet one at that. But. . . you weren’t focused on that. Rather, you were reeling at the fact that he’d just essentially made mention of the fact that he was the victim of you exposing your raw emotional state.

All you could think about— as you saw a glimpse of hurt flash over his brown eyes, him no doubt thinking of the same thing—was the kitchen. That blessed day in the kitchen where you’d gone full blast on him.

Avert avert avert.

You coughed, trying your best to clear the air. “I know it was probably necessary for you to go—leave. . . To think somewhere else, but . . . it did just suck for you to leave,” you admitted shyly. “It wasn’t an ideal time to be alone. Although. . .,” you sighed, watching his face as he concentrated on you. “I guess I brought it on myself. I should have told you sooner.”

“I am curious. . . Why didn’t you?”

“Because I was afraid of that happening,” you truly stated, waving your hand towards him. “I was afraid of you . . . leaving or something that would hurt like hell. . .”

He nodded, pursing his lips as he considered it. “I understand that,” he caught your eyes, his own, soft. Then, suddenly vulnerable. “But. . . wouldn’t it have been easier to tell me first? And wasn’t it maybe more daunting to tell Josh? I mean you had to tell him about–,” he motioned between you two. You couldn’t help the blush that painted your cheeks. Then, he looked curious, brow quirked. “Wait. . . does he even know that it’s mine?”

“Yes, he does,” you confirmed with a barely-there grin. 

He looked like he wanted to ask you something else, but ended up shaking his head and looking down at his lap, his hands moving to twiddle beneath the table before he did. 

“You’re partially right. It would have made more sense to tell you first,” you agreed partially with his earlier statement, watching him. “But I’m not sure it would have been easier. . . there are factors in the way–between us. . . people that don’t deserve to have their lives changed.”

When he looked up from where he’d been watching his hands move, his eyes met yours. You shared a look, and you knew he understood why it would have been difficult. He knew the people–the person–you were referring to. 

“I see your point. But. . .,” he cleared his throat. “It’s just me. No matter what’s changed between us. . . I’m still me. And this particular situation only concerns you, me, and the baby. No one else,” he clarified. “So, just because she’s in the picture now. . . it doesn’t mean you need to keep things from me.”

She's in the picture now. . . Stupidly, those words broke your heart.

The waitress was suddenly at the table with your food. All of it. Pretzel sticks, cheese, and your main course. She set your order on the table, but you knew you didn’t want to be here much longer. Not when you heard the hollering begin again towards the bar. You were also growing increasingly more tired by the second. 

“Can I get the alfredo to go?” You asked hopefully. 

“Sure! You want me to bring boxes for the rest, too?” Her large gray eyes were wide and bright with her seemingly innocent youth. “Just in case.”

“Yeah,” you grinned, leaning your arms on the table. “Sounds good. Thanks.”

She had nodded and was beginning to walk off when she noticed Jake sitting with you. When she saw him, her eyes bugged out and she stopped in her tracks before continuing any further.

“Wait–,” she started, her brow lifting. “Are you. . . in a band?”

His eyes darted to yours and then back to hers before he answered with a wide grin. “Yeah, actually,” he replied. “I am. It’s called–.”

“I know what it’s called!” She shrieked, her face lighting up instantaneously. “My friends and I love you guys. We’ve been to a few of your shows. We even saw you at the festival and got your demo CD! We went just for you guys,” she gushed, not pausing for more than a second. “I was so excited when I started to see your posters all over,” she rushed out, squealing a little. “We’re so excited for your shows coming up!”

His grin loosened, his cheeks flushing along with hers. “Well, thanks for coming to see us when we play,” he softly responded. “We have some other music being released soon. With a label,” he winked, glancing your way. You blushed, too, for whatever reason. What was happening in front of you? “Be on the lookout.”

The waitress’s smile took up her entire face. “Oh, we will!” She nodded enthusiastically, watching him closely for a few seconds longer than necessary. “I have to tell you. . . you’re so much hotter up close. I mean, from far away, hell yes. But right here? Oh my god.”

You decided you were definitely ready to leave. 

The guys at the bar began exploding at the football game just then, the rain was still pattering against the window, tempting you. . . and then there was the apparent fangirl who did not want to leave. . . your eyes flickered to Jake’s. He’d been watching you, waiting for a sign.

“Do you mind grabbing those boxes?” He asked politely, his smile a bit more forced now. 

And he didn’t even have to ask twice before she was nodding excitedly and racing off to get him what he wanted. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Thanks to Jake intervening and then quickly getting your food in the boxes for you, you were in his car within fifteen minutes. He’d effectively taken over the bill and paid for you, and had run to grab his car while he made you wait at the door. 

“You don’t need to be getting sick,” he’d explained, right before he covered the front of his face, beeping his car unlocked, and running to pull it up.

Your heart fluttered in your chest at the way he was tending to you. 

But before you could feel too giddy about it, you felt weird about it. You didn’t want him to suddenly like you again just because you were carrying his baby. He didn’t need to go above and beyond—you didn’t want him to feel obligated to do anything. So, as soon as he’d pulled his Jeep up (and helped you up and inside of it, effectively getting himself soaked again), you got in and waited for him to get in.

As you sat, it encouraged you even more because he’d even gone the extra mile and turned on the seat heaters. He was doing too much when he didn’t need to.

He’d started driving as soon you got in, and you tried damn hard not to watch him drive. Because, you’d just learned, that for some asinine reason, your fucking baby hormones went into overdrive when you’d tried watching a soaking wet Jake behind the wheel of his car. The way he leaned back, relaxed, one arm resting on the console between you two. . .

So, in order to distract yourself, you brought up your winding trail of thought. 

“Please don’t start caring about me again just because I’m carrying your baby.”

You heard him scoff under his breath, the sound alone making your heartbeat quicken as you waited for his response. 

“Start caring about you again? What does that even—?” 

Crossing your arms under your (always sore) boobs, you sat up straighter in your seat to keep some sort of dignity as you further explained. “Jake, you’ve been distancing yourself from me for months now—and for good reason, mind you—I just don’t want you to start doing nice things just because of this situation,” you sighed, deciding to instead lace your hands across your stomach. Training your eyes on your thumbs that tapped your sweatshirt, you continued. “I don’t need you overextending yourself on my behalf.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, and next time you looked up, you were already at the second to last light to the complex. Biting your lip, you contemplated what to say to break the heavy air in the car. . . you always hated when you felt like you’d said something wrong. And you knew you were very good at saying the wrong thing. 

So, you decided on an apology. “I’m sorry if something I said was wrong,” you offered, pitifully. It had been a long night. There was no way you wanted to end it with him mad at you. “Really. I just—.”

“You’re overthinking, y/n,” he promptly cut you off, making a turn to the last light. “I never stopped— I didn’t stop caring about you when we stopped—,” he blew out a breath, stopping at the red light. 

“I’m sorry I said tha—.”

“No. Don’t be sorry. You’re right; I have been distant. And, again, you were right when you said it's for good reason. It’s been for damn good fucking reason,” he clipped, letting the words sit in the air for a minute. “But just because I’m not talking to you or falling asleep next to you—.” He coughed. You could imagine he was shaking his head. “It doesn’t mean I don’t still want what’s best for you. Hence why I’m the one who initiated the therapy conversation. I kept my end of the deal and researched for you because I care.”

Your insides had officially turned to mush and you weren’t sure how to process that he still cared so deeply. But, he was right. . . Him bringing up the therapy showed his heart. . . You knew his heart. Knew how deeply he felt things. . . What you would continue to wonder was why you were something he hadn’t stopped caring about. When you’d been such a massive bitch. You weren’t worth it.

Heart beating quickly in your chest, you cleared your throat as he once again passed through a green light. The last one. You were almost home. 

Gotta wrap it up quickly.

“I’m sorry again,” you muttered. “For not telling you sooner.”

“Don’t be. It was your call to tell who you wanted first,” he sighed, turning on his right blinker to turn into the complex. “I just need to get out of my head about it—need to not let it piss me off.”

You looked out the windshield, the rain had let up. It was only sprinkling now. Taking a deep breath, you admitted to him what you knew to be true. “I really should have told you before Josh. I know that.”

Glimpsing for a millisecond from the corner of your eye, you saw his lip quirk before he looked your way at the perfect moment. Your eyes met briefly before you turned back to observe the parking lot through your window.

“Really?” He questioned warily. “Do you mean that or are you just saying it to make me feel better? Because you don’t have to do that just because I’m being a pussy abou–.”

The snort-laugh that came from you was unintentional, but you couldn’t contain it. “Jake. You aren’t being a pussy.” You turned your head to get a better look at his face now that he’d parked. His eyes waited for yours, highlighted by the fluorescent light he’d parked underneath. Right next to your Jetta. Smiling, you surely stated, “And, yes, I mean it. Truly. I know it would’ve been the right thing for me to tell you first.” 

Considering the car was still running and in park. . .it seemed he wasn’t anxious to get inside. He was content like this. . . at least that’s what you gathered from the way he’d swiveled his body to face you better from his seat. So, you continued on with honesty, while you felt brave. “I was just really scared. Scared to tell you and learn how you’d react. . . I didn’t want to disappoint you with something you really do not need to be responsible for . . .”

Then, the unthinkable happened and he was reaching over to hold your hand over the console. It was a feeling unlike any other–the feeling of his skin against yours. The comfort of his hand, the warmth, the callouses that scratched your flesh the slightest bit as he rubbed the top of your hand with his thumb. How long had it been since he’d touched you?

His voice and the squeeze he gave your hand brought you out of your daze. “Y/n. . . look at me.” You did as he said, following his soft, gravelly tone, finding his eyes with your own. “I am the furthest thing from disappointed.”

“But–,” you shook your head, your brow wrinkled as you searched his eyes. “But the way you left. How angry you were because I hadn’t told you yet–or–or before Josh. . .”

“There’s a difference between feeling plain old upsetedness and full on disappointment,” he clarified, his eyes swimming in yours. His strong hand lightly held yours, squeezing once more. “I assure you, I was never once disappointed tonight that you are having my baby.”

. . .having my baby. The words bounced around in your head. . . hearing him say those words just. . . did something to your heart.

“I’m excited about all of it. Honestly.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners with how his eyes lit up at the sentiment. “I mean, it was a lot to wrap my mind around and I still haven’t totally grasped the reality yet, but. . . I’m happy. Very happy,” he squeezed once more, still not moving his hand from wrapping the top of yours. “And I really hope you let me take responsibility as the father of the baby, because I really want to know this child. . . already matters so much to me.”

Your heart clenched at his words. . . He meant them and you knew it. Jake’s heart was arguably the most genuine, honest, exquisite you’d ever come across. So, it really didn’t take a second thought to utter your next words. “You can absolutely have the responsibilities of a father. . . if that’s what you want,” you raised your eyebrow with the word if. And at that, he’d nodded with an I do spoken quietly against the lull of the A/C. 

Though, there was one thing that he needed to know. The protective mama in you — that part of you needed to say this for your baby’s sake. He or she would not hurt like you had your whole life. 

“However,” your tone got serious, unwavering. “You can’t pull the shit with leaving like you did tonight with the baby. If you want the responsibility, you’ve gotta be sure.”

“I am,” he said, not missing a beat. “I won’t do that again.”

“I mean, you can do it to me. I can handle it. I’ve learned that that happens. . . but the baby. . . I just–.”

“I’m not leaving either of you alone in this,” he assured, leaning closer to you. Your heart skipped a beat. Due to still drying from the rain, he smelled like the Earth– fresh, sweet, real. Solid. True. “I know you won’t be alone because you have Josh and Elsie and so many other people, but. . . I want to be in this with you and the baby.”

“What about Maya?” You lightly asked, slightly confused. 

“She’s not going anywhere anytime soon,” he responded quickly. Too quickly. It made your chest tight and a giant rock hit the pit of your stomach. “But she will understand that I have to be there for you.”

Not trusting yourself to talk with the tears gathering in your throat, you just nodded before bowing your head to look at your little tummy. Reassurance in the sweetest, most innocent form. 

He took a deep breath, the rush of his breath, fresh from a mint he’d sucked on on the way back. “I really shouldn’t have left you tonight,” he firmly stated.

You looked up from your belly, blinking a few times to register that he was speaking so closely to you, close enough for his breath, now brushed your cheek. Not super close, but close enough. Much closer than he’d been for a while. 

He continued, “And you shouldn’t have to feel guilty for telling me on your own time. You are the one who was in charge of all of those decisions. It’s your body. Your body that’s growing the baby. . . So, it’s your right to decide things like that,” he enunciated, his intent to reassure, clear in his tone. “It just sucks a little bit for me that it was Josh, but that’s on me. . . not you. But even with all of that, I really should not have left. That gave you the opposite idea of what I wanted to give you. . . It was just a-fuckin’-lot to process all at once.”

“Yes, and you are completely entitled to believing that it was a lot–that it is a lot,” you reassured him, regretting a few of your words from earlier. “Even if you’re not the one carrying the baby, it’s going to be intense for you as the father. Maybe even more so–.”

He made a little noise of disagreement, but you just gave a quiet grin, holding up a hand.

“. . .in some senses. Especially since you can only experience it from the outside. I’m the one who is experiencing all of the changes, all of the time. I’m reminded every time I look down or touch my belly, but you don’t have that luxury every moment of the day.”

“Yeah, but it’s still more for you,” he argued.

“It’s okay, Jake,” you smiled. “I still agree. Trust me. I just wanted you to know that I understand how it might end up feeling for you. I was just afraid I made you feel like you weren’t validated in feeling overwhelmed. Leaving made sense. It’s just the worst feeling for a girl with abandonment issues,” you chanced a look down at your tummy, feeling awkward approaching so many personal feelings. It felt weird that it still felt so natural. He just brought it out in you. You quickly covered, not wanting to seem overbearing. “W-which, I can handle it–it is not on you to–”

“No, it is on me,” he seriously professed, eyes earnestly holding onto yours. “I knew about your past and I still left you. I am seriously so sorr–.”

“Jake,” you sighed his name, looking up at him again. His jaw was flexing, eyebrows turned in. “Stop apologizing,” your lips lifted in a soft smile, bringing a hand to sit on top of his. “We all do things we regret and it wouldn’t be fair for us to hold those things against each other. . . when we’ve all done thoughtless things in the heat of the moment.” At the last bit, your eyes left his to flash at your tummy.  Your hand left the top of his to delicately hold your small bump. “Example A of a ‘Heat of the Moment’ moment.”

A quiet beat passed, his face thoughtful as his eyes studied your own before he spoke. 

“I don’t regret that one though,” he said, eyes so big and so beautifully deep with emotion. 

Wetness was suddenly gathering in the corners of your eyes when you traced them over him—over his chest, tanned and exhaling so handsomely with every breath he took. You looked away from his perfect pecs, and back up to his eyes. 

“I don’t either.”

There were a few slow, nearly silent moments where all you could hear was the sound of your combined breaths with the A/C blasting against you both. Your hands still held each other, gripped each other. His hair was dry. His face was dry. And in the secret dimness of the night and the bright light of the tall lamp outside, you could see all of the delicate markings and freckles on his face. The light birthmark on the tan skin of his cheek.

Before you could think to do another ‘Heat of the Moment’ thing (weird term, but it definitely applied to you), and do something like rub the skin of his birthmark with your thumb, he was breaking eye contact, skin contact, and shutting the car off. 

“Better go inside,” he said, pausing as he’d just taken the keys out of the ignition. “It’s getting late.”

“It also might start pouring again,” you added, opening your door, trying to make conversation. 

He didn’t open your door that time, like he had at the restaurant. He just sent a quiet smile your way before getting out of his side. He did, however, wait for you to meet him at the rear bumper of the car before heading back to the apartment. You matched one another’s steps in silence. It was a bit awkward now, unlike the calm, still moment in the car. Your breaths, having combined in the shared space. . .

When you’d made it inside, he told you to go get ready for bed and that he’d feed Stevie and take care of the rest of the apartment.

“You just go to bed,” he waved you off, his expression kind. “It’s been a long night and you need rest.”

He obviously wanted to help, so you let him. Albeit, you let him do so while your heart fell a bit in your chest at your evening with him coming to an end. You hoped that there would be more times like this in the future with the baby you now both knew you shared. 

Absently, you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, then nodded and gave a faint goodnight. Once you were getting into bed in a giant t-shirt to cover the bit of ass exposed at the edges of your comfortable granny panties, you heard a little knock against your cracked door. 

You waited for him to come in since the door was still cracked, but he didn’t.

“Yeah?” You called, brows drawn in.

He opened the white paneled door just enough to show him at the threshold of your room. His hand was on the knob while he leaned with the opposite forearm against the doorframe. You did very well at not blatantly checking him out. That was something to be proud of. 

Though, you couldn’t be too proud, because you knew it was just because your tiredness had hit you like a ton of bricks. It had been impossible to ignore as soon as you’d felt the cool, soft cotton of the gray oversized t-shirt touch your skin. 

Your blinking was becoming slower and slower by the second. But your eyes perked up a little when he cleared his throat, suddenly interested in anything he had to say. Even if it was something as simple as Stevie not being hungry. Just wanted to hear his voice once more before going to bed.

And you got exactly that as his eyes swept over your face briefly, deep in thought. “I really, genuinely do want to help however I can with the baby stuff—however you want me or need me. I want to help you because it means I’m helping the baby. Our baby.”

Okay, the next time he referred to the baby being his, you were sure your heart was going to beat completely out of your chest. It did things to you.

“Alright,” you responded tiredly, a slight blush warmed your cheeks. “That sounds good.”

When you loudly yawned, he nodded with a quiet grin fitting his handsome features. He began to shut the door, but just before he could, he opened it once more.

“I–,” he cleared his throat. Your stomach felt airy and light at the possibility of what he might say. You didn’t know what to expect, but him talking to you was just. . . exactly what you needed. “I took a drive and listened to music, by the way.” 

You blinked, brow furrowed with confusion. “. . .What?” 

“When I left tonight. I just drove around and listened to music,” he said, his amber-brown eyes, so earnest. “Cleared my head with music.”

“Why are you telling–?” You sleepily wondered aloud.

“I. . . didn’t go see anyone,” he elaborated. “Just wanted you to know that. Also, I promise I won’t tell anyone–including Maya– until you’re ready.” 

“Okay,” you squeaked, unsure of what else to say.

After observing each other for just a few moments after he’d spoken, he suddenly dipped out with a quick ‘Goodnight.’

The thunderstorm picked up again right after he’d left you, Stevie racing in, all frazzled, with her tail fluffed out at the sounds of the storm. The sleep that threatened to cloud your vision was a most welcome friend as you let yourself become cozy under your soft, high thread count sheets and fluffy, featherlight duvet. Your head was nestled against the pillow, Stevie snuggled against your ankles, purring. And your brain was just wandering off to slumberland when you understood why he’d said what he did about not being with anyone. . . it finally clicked. 

He’d wanted you to know he hadn’t been with Maya like you’d assumed. Like you’d brashly accused him of at Applebee’s.

. . .But why did he care to tell you? 

-🌼🌼🌼-

The next morning, you sat at the counter with a book about pregnancy, taking notes. It was the end of your new morning routine. 

You didn’t have class or work for the day, so you were enjoying some much needed down time. The idea that you’d be able to take countless naps literally made goosebumps rise on your skin. 

“Hey.”

And now you had even more goosebumps erupting at the sound of his raspy voice. 

“Morning,” you replied, highlighting a line in your book about staying ‘physically active’ during pregnancy. 

“Morning. You feeling okay?”

“Mhm. . .” you replied, halfway present and barely looking up from the page and the sticky you were jotting a note onto.

“Taking notes?”

“So many,” you giggled, your eyes finally looking up to find him dressed and ready for the day at the Keurig, preparing a cup of coffee. “All the time, I’m doing research.”

“I believe it,” he replied, clicking his K-cup in the holder. The hot drink was trickling into his mug when he looked at you in question. “Based on your research, can you have caffeine? Could I make you a coffee or something?”

“Um, not the safest in high amounts,” you pondered, flipping to the page where you’d just read about that a few days ago and quoted the book for him. “‘Drinking caffeine during pregnancy has some major health risks. The caffeine gets digested much slower and goes through the placenta into your baby’s bloodstream,’” you droned, feeling obnoxious with the long response. 

“Interesting. Anything else it says about it?”

You raised a brow and gave him an ‘mhm’ before looking at the page again. “‘This means that the caffeine side effects of a racing heart rate, high blood pressure, and a stimulated nervous system affect you and your baby. The result is a higher chance of miscarriage. Even small amounts have been known to cause a 13% increase in low birth weight for your newborn,’” you glanced up, he was rubbing his chin, listening to every word. So, you finished out the paragraph. “‘Try switching to a naturally decaffeinated herbal tea, but do consult your doctor or midwife as certain herbs can cause premature labor.’”

“Have you tried any herbal tea?”

You made a gagging motion. Herbal tea honestly did not strike your fancy at this stage in your life. “The baby says herbal tea sounds disgusting,” you joked. He huffed a laugh with you as you finished your thought. “I’m looking into smoothies to start the day. I’m actually going to try making a few today since I’m home all day.”

“Cool. Just thought I’d offer,” he finished. 

Or so you thought.

After getting his coffee off the Keurig, he made his way around the counter to sit in the barstool next to you. Heat washed over your face at his closeness.

“Speaking of doctor or midwife. . . which are you going with?”

“Doctor,” you answered. “Her name is Dr. Rose. Sweet, middle aged, Southern lady.”

“Oh, you’ve had your first appointment?” He asked, sounding curious and a little apprehensive. 

“Yeah. . . First one last week.”

“Oh,” he replied, sounding just a little discouraged. But he tried to cover it. “Cool. How did it go? Did you have to go alone?”

“Mhm,” you said, suddenly digging into a page and very seriously taking notes on a sticky note about random ass shit you could care less about. “Josh went. It went well.”

He hummed, not responding right away. And you knew why. 

You really did feel guilty now that you’d taken Josh to your first appointment and not Jake. He was the baby’s father, after all. And thinking about how he’d have reacted to seeing the baby with you, both of you, for the first time. . . You were suddenly very downcast as you thought of the missed opportunity. 

“But you can come to the rest of them with me,” you rushed out, suddenly looking up at him as you said so. His eyes were huge as he watched you be neurotic. God, you were annoying. “If–if you want. I don’t want to pressure you.”

“O–of course. Yes,” he stuttered. “You tell me when and I’ll be there. Every single one.”

You realized he sounded eager and thrilled, not frightened like you feared. 

“Okay,” you acknowledged, slightly breathless. 

Once again, you were in the same situation as you had been last night. He was, once more, so close. Right there. Your shared breathing, the only sound comprehensible to your ears in the calm, quiet of the morning. His breath, smelling of coffee, should have turned you off. . . but it didn’t not at all. And the way he went to lick his lips, just once– his eyes, not leaving yours. . . 

Then, he was jolted back to reality, blinking furiously. 

“I’ve, um, gotta go run some errands and then I have a meeting with the label,” he suddenly said, rising up. He grabbed his cup, rushing around, dumping it in the sink before grabbing a cinnamon bagel from the pantry. He bent to get a Zip-loc bag from a lower cabinet, and your eyes moved on their own to his ass in his light denim jeans. 

What. A. Sight. Now you were darting your tongue out to sweep over your lips.

He zipped up the bagel and left it on the counter to hurry to his room. When he reappeared, he was holding his phone, sending a text based on the sound, before he tucked it into his front pocket. He also held a beat up guitar case. 

“Still carrying around that same old case?” You grinned, a brow perked at the sight of the duct tape holding it together. A few stickers here and there, littering the case. “Not a new one to match your new rockstar life?”

“The case adds character,” he winked, your blushing face, the victim. Then, he was on his way to the door, keys jingling out of the bowl on the counter and into his hand. “Let me know if you need anything today.”

You were responding with an agreeing noise and word as he shut the door behind him. But when your eyes scanned the counter again, you saw the bagel. Even though it was just a bagel with cinnamon swirl, it was still his breakfast. He needed to eat. That’s what had you rushing out the door after him, your page getting a quick sticky pressed into it.

And, as soon as you saw the twinkle in his eye at you remembering to grab the bagel for him, you realized that you just wanted that. If you were being completely honest, you’d just needed that one last smile to start your day. The perfect start to a morning, you’d say. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You decided to order some chicken fajitas from a local restaurant. DoorDash was your new best friend with the pregnancy cravings. 

Chicken fajitas were a new favorite for the baby. A weekish ago when you’d first tried them as a pregnant woman, you’d learned they tasted more delicious than they ever had before. They didn’t make your tummy roll.

As you waited for the food to arrive, you decided to do some tidying around the apartment. You washed a couple of dishes you’d left in the sink from the morning, and picked up notebooks, textbooks, and toys of Stevie’s from around the living room. Then, after further inspection of the living room, you realized it could handle a sweep or two with a vacuum. And after that, you decided to Swiffer the kitchen. Didn’t feel like full-on mopping, but you had to round out the floor cleaning. 

Before you could head to your bedroom or restroom to clean those spaces, a boundary was drawn for you when you heard a knock at the front door. DoorDash. Food. Fajitas.

Suddenly, unashamedly, your mouth was watering. Food took total priority over cleaning and you left the vacuum and Swiffer precisely where they were. You never left them out after cleaning, but you were hungry, okay? 

But just as you’d made it to the door, you didn’t have to open it. Instead, you heard polite conversation from the other side, thank you’s and have a good night’s. 

Before he opened the door, you went ahead and did it for him. And so, when you did, there was Jake, holding your food. The fajitas didn’t matter much anymore. 

Well. . . That was until he walked in and you got a good whiff of the steaming, seasoned vegetables and grilled chicken. Priorities were back to normal real quick with an embarrassing rumble from your stomach. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Once you’d eaten all of your food in basically one bite, you sat on your sofa with a damn good book you were quickly becoming entranced by. But about twenty minutes into you sitting there, Jake appeared from where he’d disappeared to shower after he’d sat your food on the counter.

“You know, I keep thinking about something,” Jake started, coming to sit on the opposite end of the couch from you.

He was freshly showered— looking and smelling fucking delicious–hints of citrus came from his drying hair. Then, you smelled the warm and slightly sweet scent of sandalwood as he moved, propping his pajama clad legs on the coffee table in front of you two, unsticking his ripped t-shirt from his probably still-wet chest. You tried very hard not to watch him situate himself, too. The way he adjusted the inner seam of his pants, dangerously close to his. . . 

Yeah, you looked away. Focused hard on the book you were trying your damnedest to read. His body was a massive distraction. 

Trying to not be totally inappropriate, you replied to his earlier statement, still training your eyes on the page in front of you. “What were you thinking about?”

“I brought up the therapy thing the other night,” he started. You gave an absentminded ‘mhm’ in response, finally finding slight interest in the characters in front of you again. “And I’ve been wondering. Did you ever give that a second thought? Starting therapy?”

You blinked your eyes a few times, trying to catch up with the more serious topic of conversation. Looking up from your book, you closed it and put it to the side. When you placed the novel on the coffee table, he followed your hand back to you. His eyes found yours and your eyes fluttered again. You shook your head. “Yeah,” you trained your features, letting a smile float to your lips at his attention to you. “I actually–um–I started going.”

His features showed unkempt elation at your words. His eyes, bright and a wide smile on his lips. He sat up, facing you better than before, a foot balanced on the floor as the other bent with his body leaning towards you. “Seriously?!”

“Yeah,” you blushed. Why did he care so much? Surely it was mostly for the wellbeing of the baby. Right? 

You know he cared before he knew about the baby, a calm voice hushed in the corners of your mind. Just let him in. Don’t be afraid.

Clearing your throat, you kept up with your thoughts and tried to open up in spite of your ever-swirling unsureness. “Thank you for doing the research. Really. I’m super grateful. You gave me the push I needed and I’ll never be able to thank you enough. The baby, too,” you added. “I wanted to get better for the baby. You two made quite the team in helping me want to be better.”

His cheeks reddened, complimenting his skin tone and the few freckles and scars that dotted his cheeks. He shook his head, “Don’t thank me. I just wanted to help–that’s it. You made the brave move to start,” his lips twitched with a quiet, close-lipped grin. “How’s it going? Well–no–you don’t have to answer–that’s not my–.”

You ignored him, suddenly feeling this urge to fill him in. “I love my therapist. Like, she is already one of my favorite people on this fucking earth,” you beamed, thinking of Gia’s wonderful aura and personality. “And we actually start EMDR in a couple of weeks.”

“Oh,” he started, surprised. His eyes widened as he leaned back into the arm of the couch nearest him. “You decided on EMDR, too?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, glancing down briefly before letting your eyes dance with his again. “That seemed to be the only logical route since there’s so much shit to dig through that I don’t even–can’t even remember. It seemed like the most intensive form of therapy and I needed that.”

“Are you afraid of what you might find?”

“Yes,” you replied without question. “But, that’s the only way you can properly heal. Sometimes things that feel right–like EMDR, because it just feels like the right path already– those things, they’re going to probably also feel a little uncomfortable and feared at first. But, it all leads to the ultimate destination of being healed. And that’s what matters most.”

There was a quietness, a cozy silence that settled between the two of you. A few moments where you shared breaths and your gazes intertwined. . . It felt heavenly to share space with him like this when things felt normal and all right between the two of you. There wasn’t another word for it. 

His eyes were sincere with his tone when he broke the silence. “Y/n,” he breathed your name, making your tummy flutter with the most illustrious butterflies. “I am so fucking proud of you.”

Suddenly feeling like you were getting too much praise for something you were doing for the baby rather than yourself, you shook your head and brushed him off with a wave of your hand. “Don’t be,” you encouraged with a little scoff, shaking your head. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

“I will be proud and it is a big deal,” he concluded. “All I’ve wanted is for you to feel closer to being whole–you deserve it.”

“The baby deserves it most,” you argued–didn’t want to be self-centered on the subject. “It’s for the baby.”

“Well,” he cleared his throat, crossing his arms across the chest of his white t-shirt. “I want you to focus on helping yourself, too, y/n. Please,” he asked, tone softening. Your eyes flickered across his. “I brought it up in the first place because I wanted you to feel better.”

You took it as food for thought, nodding at his words. Truly, you did consider what he’d said. . . his opinion mattered a helluva lot to you–probably too much. But you didn’t want to waver from who you were doing it mostly for. Your hand found your tummy as you reached the coffee table for your book and Stanley. 

Taking a big sip from your trusty tumbler, you eyed him once more before opening your book. You didn’t want him to feel obligated to stay in here with you when you were sure he had better things to do. “I will remember that,” you offered with a small grin, flipping your book open to where you dog-eared it. 

You waited for him to get up from his spot on the couch, but. . . he didn’t. He stayed put, situating his body to face the TV. 

In your peripheral vision, you saw how his legs spread across the cushion and once again tried to ignore ignore ignore. But you couldn’t help the thought that there was just something so fucking enticing about Jake Kiszka manspreading. It was gross when every other man did it. But Jake? All it made you want to do was straddle his sturdy hips.

Fuck. Focus on the book. Come on, y/n.

“Also. . .you realize, if you are craving something,” he began, pulling you from your book yet again. “You don’t have to DoorDash it. I’m always willing to go get you the food you are wanting.”

To put it simply, you were surprised by the turn in conversation. It was sort of random, but also not random all at the same time. 

For no reason whatsoever, you decided to combat the sweet offer. “What if you’re with Maya when I’m craving something?”

Why the fuck were you like this? Honestly, it felt mostly like a form of protection from getting your hopes up too high. . . it was a coping mechanism. But you hated it. It was stupid.

He hummed, thinking. Then, he piped up with an answer in no time. “I’ll just try to make sure we hang out here more than her house. Simple.”

Oh, joy.

“You’d rather be here than her massive mansion of a home?” You questioned, trying to not think about seeing her stupidly stunning face more than you wanted to. 

“Well, yeah,” he confusedly responded. “This is my home and I like being here.”

His home. He liked being here. The words pulled at you–in every direction. Broke you and made you wish things were different.

“How does she afford that, by the way?” You unapologetically nosed, not wanting to sit in any downhearted thoughts. It was rude to pry, you knew. But you didn’t really care at the moment.

He chuckled raspily, reaching to the coffee table for the Roku remote. When your eyes immediately looked over your book to peer at his waist, you didn’t think twice about it. It was whatever. “She’s the financial manager for this big corporation on Fifth Avenue.”

Your stomach fell. Jesus. Besides having trash music taste, apparently she was incredibly intelligent, too? What didn’t she have? You couldn’t even figure out what the fuck you wanted to do with your life and she was financially managing a giant ass company?Depressing as hell. Showed you your worth once again, in comparison to her. She was someone and you were literally nobody. 

“Can I watch something?” He asked you, patiently waiting. You gave a half-ass ‘yeah, of course’ in reply, not fully present. 

And when he eventually turned on some documentary about pirates that sort of piqued your interest, too, you decided to close your book for a final time. And you didn't put any more substance to your gloomy self-consciousness. It was your own fault you were feeling this way now–being nosy when you shouldn’t have been. Prying into someone’s life who’d never done anything wrong to you. 

Yeah, she’d slept with Jake. . . but did she even know that you’d also–? Shit. Did she know that the woman her boyfriend lived with used to fuck him, too? How in the hell would she react to the news if she didn’t already know that–? Your stomach twisted into knots at the thought of her finding out about. . . all of it.

The courage sprouted up as a historian started speaking on an infamous female pirate. “Does–does Maya know that we used to. . .?”

His brows dipped, thoughtful, turning down the television to acknowledge you’d spoken. But, he kept watching the documentary, his eyes honed in on the black-boxed subtitles. “No, actually. No she doesn’t. Didn’t really feel the need to tell her.”

Of course he didn’t feel the need. It kind of really hurt, but it wasn’t on Jake. Not at all. You knew very well that the sex probably wasn't as important to him as he’d once expressed. You’d been so angry and hateful to him, enough to drive away any sort of deep, lingering feelings that might have lied there. 

He knew that it wasn’t special enough that she needed to know. It was something of the past. All that mattered now was her. Only now. . . There was one inevitable reason it would have to come to light. You didn’t give voice to the obvious. The fact that, now, he would have to tell her. And you both knew it. 

As he turned the volume up a couple notches, you couldn’t help but wonder how the fuck would she react. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 21, 2022

You couldn’t have made it to your car any faster if you tried. Looking at your parking decision in hindsight, you realized you should have parked closer to the campus advisory office. But you hadn’t. You’d left your car parked where it had been for class. So now you had to walk a much longer distance that you could have avoided. . . If you’d just thought ahead.  

And in depressing moments like these, you wished you would have. The tears that flew down your cheeks in steady tracks made you beyond grateful that you hadn’t worn mascara. You’d had to meet with your advisor today to touch base and talk career plans. . . It was something that Pratt had decided to add to all program studies, for senior students. The idea of the meeting was to help students feel supported. 

But you didn’t feel fucking supported. Not at all. The way your advisor had blatantly judged you for even daring to bring up the idea of being a lyricist. . . She had instantly struck your idea down with a curt shake of her head and furrowed brows. Her eyes had lit up with laughter. But thankfully, she hadn’t been so terrible as to actually laugh in your face. 

Her words hadn’t been much better than that alternative, though. She’d unabashedly, condescendingly criticized your idea of becoming a lyricist. She made you feel stupid for ever even thinking of it as a possibility. 

“I’m not saying it’s impossible, but there’s a very slim chance that a label will take a fresh graduate. That’s a career you have to prove yourself in. Takes a long time to do that, a lot of experience that you don’t have.” 

The snarky tone in her voice pissed you off. Her words stuck with you enough that they dared to crush every dream you had about your future, which is something an advisor should not do. They should encourage, not discourage, to the point of making their advisee’s feel like utter shit after an appointment. 

So, as you finally made it to your car, you tried to contain the sobs that threatened to escape. . . but to no avail. Because, over and over again, you thought of how your advisor–someone who should be helping you to pursue your dreams–basically told you that you weren’t good enough for the one thing you wanted to do. She’d told you as much in her “officially official doctorate-level” advisor lingo. If her goal had been to completely crush you, she’d done just that. 

You were glad your next stop was therapy because you desperately needed to hear Gia’s two cents.

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 21, 2022

You spent roughly 30 minutes filling Gia in on the past week of your life. She heard all about you telling Jake, talking to your campus advisor, and any other thing that came to mind to tell her. 

When you started the session, Gia had let you know that you only had the first thirty minutes because you needed to find your mental and emotional safe place by the end of the session. It was today’s goal to establish that place. Finding your footing in the safe place was a vital precursor before you began EMDR. She’d had great advice for your life update, once you’d effectively word-vomited all over her. 

To your utter relief, the career thing didn’t bother her at all. Her expression barely changed as she’d shrugged. The first thing she’d done was assure you that everything would be fine and it would work out and that you have time to figure it out, despite what societal norms would tell you. So, even though that had been the biggest, most terrifying thing on your mind when you’d shown up to counseling today, you decided to not worry about it since Gia didn’t seem disturbed by the news at all. 

“Anything is possible,” she’d reassured you once your tears had momentarily stopped after telling her everything your advisor had said. “Don’t let a few words–opinions– from one woman make you disbelieving of that fact.”

Her opinions on Jake were positive, too, which made your heart swell in your chest. Though, it simultaneously broke for the fact that you couldn’t kiss him and hug him and be with him to tell him what she thought of him. Would he think it was weird if you told him what she thought of him? Would it freak him out that you’ve talked about him enough to Gia that she has a solid preconceived opinion of him?

“And Jake. . .,” she’d remarked at the end of the thirty minute mark, rolling back in her chair to her desk to get a big swig of her herbal tea. Your baby thought it was gross, your stomach rolling, but good for her and her nasty tea. “He is an outstanding example of a man. I’m impressed with his actions, his words. . . all of it. He seems like a stand up guy, and I hope I get to meet him one of these days,” her grin was sly, but you didn’t know why. 

So, yes, while your heart beat erratically and longingly at her words about him, it simultaneously broke your heart for the fact that you couldn’t kiss him and hug him and be with him to tell him what she thought of him. Would he think it was weird if you told him what she thought of him? Would it freak him out that you’ve talked about him enough to Gia that she has a solid preconceived opinion of him?

It made you think, as you watched her type notes on her laptop . . . Would you have told him if you were still seeing each other? Surely so. . . But maybe not. . . you weren’t really the best at complimenting him. And you sort of (desperately) hated that.

Don’t fucking think about it, y/n, a thoughtful, protective voice said to you. Just think about you right now. 

So, you did the best you could to shove any thought of being a bitch to him from your mind. And instead focused on Gia’s comfortable couch. Soft camel-colored leather. The way the cushion sank under you felt like sitting on a dense cloud. She was making light conversation before getting to the nitty gritty. You focused on her the best you could. 

Today would be your first venture into the realm of EMDR. . . . And you were anxious to begin this long-awaited journey of replenishing your soul with the incredible gift of reprocessing. 

“The safe place we are finding today will be where you go when things become too much during our EMDR sessions.” Gia wheeled closer to you in her light pink office chair, the smell of eucalyptus and mint following her, as she must use it as a sort of body oil or spray. She carried the calming smell with her everywhere. And the office, so wonderfully consoling with the scent of lavender. The little machine that spurted the essential oil every 10 minutes. All of these things combined, keeping the room drenched in calm. 

“There are places your mind is going to take you, some darker than others. These are scenes from your life that you will need to experience again in order for us to process through them so you can heal through them. Considering, you know, EMDR is simply a reprocessing technique,” she explained, adjusting her wire lens frames on her nose. “In order to not feel trapped, claustrophobic, or overwhelmed in these memories, you will need to have a safe place to turn to–a place to run to–a scene to easily unlock. It might be unknown to you until you actually plant your feet in that scene, but this place is already the natural wave your brain takes to feel safe.” She added one more thing to this train of thought. “This will just be the first time your brain is able to fully experience it. . . because you’re actually giving yourself the permission to do so.”

She held her hands out, palms up, and you took the hint and placed your hands in hers. As you would have guessed, her hands were soft as silk, matching the rest of her fairy-like aura. She squeezed once, lightly before continuing, “Now, I will be there the whole time, watching you, to monitor if you are doing alright. Sometimes you can sense it and get out, and other times it’s a little bit trickier. I will watch your eyes and the way your muscles tense, to gauge how I believe you’re feeling. Your body language will speak the words you may not be able to. This is an incredibly intricate form of therapy that we will wade through together. You will never be alone.”

She grinned, and you did the same. The way she explained these things to you was so assuaging. Were you scared? Hell yes. Of course you were scared. You were about to experience events that had become so dark and secreted in your mind, that they’d left you deep, lasting trauma. . . for a second time.

The re-experiencing aspect was daunting. But. . . you weren’t intimidated. You felt strong to withstand what was to come from your mind. There was the sense that you could overcome the darkness that was buried–some forgotten, some not–in your mind. . . especially if Gia was there to help you through it.

She let go of your hands after giving one more reassuring press. Then she was wheeling back to her desk.

“How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?” Gia asked, grabbing a round, average size cloth, zipped bag off of her desk and placing it in her lap. 

“I’m honestly feeling very much at ease right now. And, yes,” you replied honestly. You pressed your hands into the cool leather of the couch you were sitting on, your hands sinking into the ideally aged material. “I love your couch.”

“That’s good,” she smiled, full lips stretching over her white teeth. “Now, I want you to do a few calming exercises with me. We will start with deep breaths, then we will practice a few eye movement exercises. You just let me know when you’re ready.”

Not wanting to wait any longer, you responded readily. “I would love to begin whenever.”

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes,” you replied, brows fixed and eyes serious. “The sooner I can heal from this, myself, the sooner I’ll be healed for my baby. I’m ready.”

She raised a perfectly trimmed, coffee-colored brow. “You’re incredible, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes, but thanked her nonetheless. You weren’t incredible. Your baby was, and he or she was why you were doing this. The baby was your push, without even being born yet–the baby was the powerful one. 

Gia had you complete a variation of calming breathing exercises to center yourself. And after those, you completed eye movement exercises for the first time in your entire life. It was . . . odd, yet equally nice.

“Your body is loosening. You’re letting yourself transcend–easing your mind,” she said, voice airy and light. Your form felt just as light as her tone. “Now, open your eyes. We’ll do a shortened version of those techniques right before we begin. 

Your eyes slowly opened back to reality to see her unzipping the round black case she’d been holding in her lap. When she opened it, the contents of it were brand new to you. You’d never really seen a thing like the devices she was moving to hold in her hands. She pulled out two little black devices that were attached to a chord plugged into a slightly larger black box. This one, though, had knobs and buttons decorating the front of it. Your curiosity was growing by the second.

She wheeled her chair over to you once more, holding the black gadgets in each hand.

“These are tactical paddles,” she said, motioning for you to take them. When you did, she turned a knob on the black box she was still holding, sending a full vibration to the ones in your hands. “They’re buzzers that will help activate both sides of your brain during the session.”

They were buzzing one by one as you held them in the middle of your palms. You couldn’t tell if it was just your imagination, but you swore you felt each side of your brain moving right along with them. She scooted back a bit, giving you space to experience the feeling. She adjusted the knob just slightly once she’d moved away and you felt their vibrations speed up a little. 

“Do they feel okay?” She asked, situating the frames of her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. “How are you feeling?”

“It’s strange,” you said without thinking. “It’s very comfortable to hold them. . . but that is part of why it’s strange.”

Gia loosely giggled at that and reassured you that that reaction was more than typical and that she always considered that particular combination of feelings a good place to begin.  

After completing the body relaxation practices once more, you were being guided by Gia. “Relax your body. Lean back. Lay back. Whatever feels best for you.” With the last word, she adjusted the paddles down to a more neutral setting. Your hands felt tingly in a weird, yet contented way.

“Bring to mind the intention that you are practicing feeling safe when you actually are safe,” she softly said, soothing. “One of the best ways to evoke this feeling of safety is to imagine being in a place that you might really enjoy being–wherever you may feel naturally safe, peaceful, and/or calm.” She paused briefly, the paddles changed speed as your head started to become light. “It can be a real place or a place that you’ve come to imagine in your mind on instinct. This is the place you travel at the idea of feeling serene.”

You breathed an ‘okay’ in response, but focused more on the way the instruments in your hands were aiding in sending you somewhere. You felt the atmosphere of your mind slowly changing–equally present and not.

The word Gia had earlier used. . .’transcend.’ It was the perfect word because you currently were completely, wholly transcendent.

“I’m right here,” Gia quietly, gently reminded you, as the blackness behind your eyes took hold, becoming the only thing your five senses could grasp, aside from the sound of Gia’s gentle guidance. “You are doing great.”

You felt the instantaneous feeling of a light breeze brush your face. It pushed you back, but you also felt the feeling of your body keeping still. There were two places. Reality: Gia’s office. And somewhere completely unknown. . . You were somewhere new. 

This wasn’t a place you’d ever been before. The barely-there sounds of birds chirping in trees within a forest that guarded you, on all sides, reverberated off the walls of your mind. The sounds, the breeze– they helped you find your footing. And suddenly, your feet were bare against the partially warm, partially cool feeling of damp dirt. Rain had recently come to this place. You could smell the rain. But every crevice of your mind knew it wasn’t raining anymore. No, you knew that the moment you opened your eyes, you’d find a light, clear blue sky, maybe a couple wisps of clouds painting against the beautifully blank canvas of azure. But you weren’t opening your eyes yet. You focused on everything else taking shape around you. 

The paddles continued to transfer varying speeds between your palms, but it was the last thing on your mind. They were the guide that you knew to follow, but didn’t have to concentrate on. 

Your nose tuned in to the smell of flowers around you. . . All kinds, but there was a particular plant infiltrating your mind the most. . . Though, you knew you wouldn’t be able to place it until you opened your eyes. It was strange because you knew the smell, but your lack of sight was keeping the name of the flower hidden. 

Other things were hidden with your eyes still closed, but you kind of enjoyed the blank space. 

This season. . . the most wonderful tiny person was bound to grace the world in this season. Spring. It was springtime. You knew that much. Once your mind realized the season you were placed in, your eyes opened a little more to the scene around you. 

Lavender. An entire field of the wonderfully fragrant plant, surrounding you with its calming notes. And it was beautiful. Never in your whole life had you been in such a beautiful space, yet your mind had no problem creating it for you. 

“Tell me what you see, but keep your eyes closed for me,” you heard Gia’s voice, although it sounded a hundred miles away. It was hushed, distant, like you were hearing her through a tunnel–only an echo in your mind. It was strange. Your physical form was still seated on the comfy couch, but you were standing amongst the most lovely sea of lavender. 

“I’m. . .I’m not really sure where I am,” you whispered, feeling like raising your voice would disturb the serenity of this place you’d stumbled upon. “I’ve never been here before. It’s–it’s incredible.”

Much like Gia’s, your own voice felt muted in your head. But, unlike her, you were standing in the middle of a narrow tunnel, whereas she was at the end. You were traveling somewhere. Obviously.

“That’s okay,” she tells you. You suddenly felt the paddles quicken ever so gently in their pace, but they felt good. Comforting. Real. “Just tell me everything you’re seeing right now.”

“Lavender. . .A field of lavender. A forest surrounding me. Blue sky. . .,” You couldn’t feel much of saying the word lavender. “So much of it. I could just lay in it, let it surround me.” 

“So you’re outside– good. What else do you see? Is there any wildlife?” The echo of her voice became even more distant as you began walking around, searching for whatever else was there with you. 

Deer. A whole family across the field, taking nourishment from the flowers and emerald green grass. They weren’t like normal deer, though. They didn’t run from you as you approached them. They weren’t scared, they just existed peacefully within this place. Then, you heard the birds begin chirping again, as if on queue. 

“Birds are singing. . . There are deer,” you felt yourself telling her, still in amazement with your next words. “They’re really beautiful. And they’re not afraid of me. . .? I can almost touch them.” 

This was entirely unreal, yet all too real all at once. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever believe your mind was capable of this. Yet, there you were, witnessing the most alluring scene that you were sure didn’t physically exist anywhere on earth. Only in your mind. Safely in your mind. No one could destroy it, no one could infiltrate it. It was all yours.

“That sounds wonderful, y/n. Let's focus on a few other senses. Tell me what you smell,” Gia’s sweet voice sounded as if it was coming from the sky, from the wind. It was all around you, yet so far away. 

You felt your present body take a deep breath through your nose, trying to get the best whiff you could of everything surrounding your psyche. 

“I smell the lavender. It’s overwhelming, but in the best way. God it. . .It smells so good. So. . . Fresh. It’s newly bloomed. And I can smell rain. It’s not raining now but it was.”

“Good,” Gia softy said. “What can you touch? Tell me what it feels like.” 

You reached down to run your fingers over a spray of the dark violet flowers, their scent became even more powerful as you lightly ruffled them. 

“I’m touching the lavender,” you told her. “The buds are so soft, so light to touch. They feel delicate, but I know they won’t break. They’re sturdy. But they aren’t stiff.” 

Aside from the way they felt against your hands, they also emitted a feeling of pure peace. Of tranquility. A good, clean energy unlike anything you’d ever felt. 

“I can almost feel them too, y/n.” You heard her giggle quietly across the field. “What are you  doing? Are you standing, sitting?”

You then felt the urge to lie down. So, you did. Your body felt weightless in your mind as you let yourself fall backward, landing softly amidst the blooms. It felt like the most comfortable bed you’d ever laid in. But before you answered her, you felt your hands within your mind reach down to your tummy. You had to know if your sweet baby was there with you. 

And as you laid your palm gently over your tiny bump, you felt it. Your baby was with you, safely tucked away in the most calm place you’d ever known. It only made sense that your physical form of comfort found its way to your mental one, too. Feeling your bump here made you feel. . .complete. Although, there was still something missing. You didn’t know what, but you felt it. But at that moment, your baby was all you needed. 

Or so you thought. 

Because when you let yourself sit up from where you’d laid in the magnificent, flourishing field of flowers, you finally felt complete because the last person you needed had arrived. 

He was standing across from you, on the opposite side of the field. His long, wavy chestnut locks, flowing just the slightest bit in the breeze of the dreamy spring day. He wore a blue suit. A dark blue, three-piece suit with a dark blue shirt underneath it all to match. 

He was so handsome. Beyond stunning. The most immaculately created person. . .

He didn’t stay there for long before he was making his way toward you, striding as he naturally did. His walk, so smooth and sexy–always. 

As he came closer, you were learning that, in this realm, time moved just a tad bit different than normal. He seemed to make it over to you in less than a minute, even from the other end of the expansive field of light purple. 

Then, he was right beside you, lying down next to where you still sat next to him. He’d placed his left arm behind his head, to balance and lift himself a little. And, his left arm, spread out, ready for you to lay beside him. Lay with him. 

He didn’t say anything, but you knew that was what he wanted. You’d laid this way with him a million times before.

So, you moved to lay with him in a way that felt like coming home. You laid back, so comfortably relaxing your tired muscles as you placed a hand on his chest, and one side of your face against it. Curling your body into his, you laid one leg over his, your body facing toward him. Your bump was pressed snugly and safely against the side of his abdomen. Safe. 

Everything was safe here. Truly was the safest place your mind could conjure. You felt his steady breaths against the top of your head as you looked out past him, to the side of the field. Where the birds still chirped in the trees and the deer still meandered. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice equal with the breeze–quiet, calm. His breaths hit your head with each word, he was so near. . . but his words also echoed amongst the trees, all around you. 

Then, it was Gia’s voice you heard whisper through the trees. 

“You’ve found it, haven’t you? Your safe place,” she questioned knowingly, her tone lilted with excitement for you. 

Had you? 

Before you could consider it any longer, his hand came up to rest against your head, brushing so delicately through your loose strands of hair. Your body hummed, feeling one with the wind as he held you. Protected you. Stayed with you. Your body was telling you your answer in your curated fantasy, communicating it to your concrete form as you uttered it aloud.

“Yes,” you sighed, your body on the couch and still in Jake’s arms. You were vividly existing in your imagination and in reality all at once. This feeling would take some getting used to. While you were in shock, you were also not shocked at all. “Y-yes, I’ve found it.”

Jake . . . was he–? 

The lavender was glorious and the field you laid in, the soft ground, was better than any bed you’d ever graced. . . The deer were exquisite and lovely. The song of the birds, sounding like mystical, heavenly hymns. . . The sound of the trees brushing together in the warm breeze of the cool spring day, making their own music, and better than any white noise you’d ever experienced.

But Jake. . . None of those things even came close to the way you felt in his arms. The way you felt light as air and at ease the moment he’d graced your presence. You’d felt your peace and the baby’s when he’d graced the scene. Still did, as you melted into him, his breaths, his heartbeat, helping you feel free and firmly planted, one with all living things–all at once. There was no question that it was him. 

Jake was your safe place.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Now, I want you to make sure you’re finding quiet time to locate your safe place,” Gia advised, getting up from her rolling chair as soon as you’d risen from the couch. “It’s essential to practice before the sessions. You want it to be an easy place to locate during the really hard resurgence of memories,” she coached you, pushing her chair to her desk. 

“Got it,” you agreed, head still swimming a little as you steadily came back to reality. The prospect of traveling to that place in your spare time was a little intimidating. . . But also very exciting. 

Seeing Jake so vividly in such a serene atmosphere on a regular basis sounded like paradise. You could definitely find time to practice that. 

“If you’re not opposed, I would maybe find someone to drive you to your sessions,” Gia suggested, going to clean the paddles with a spray and microfiber towel. You tuned back in, alertness settling in. “These sessions,” she made eye contact with you after bending over to grab her tube of Clorox wipes. “They are bound to be–no, they will be incredibly intense,” she used a towel she’d retrieved from the container to wipe it down. “Just someone you can trust to be there for you afterwards. . . so you’re not alone when you’re coming down from these memories that will present themselves again.”

Still smelling hints of lavender and feeling the warmth of a chest beneath you in some other heavenly reality, you knew who you’d pick. Was it a crazy idea? What did Gia think? Would she tell you her opinion or would you be forced to figure this out on your own? You didn’t want to seem crazy . . . . or weird.

You had just found your voice to respond when she started speaking again.

“Who do you think would be the best–?”

“I actually have an idea of who–.”

The way your chest bubbled with laughter alongside her was wonderful. It felt like the most genuine giggle you’d ever exuded. You truly felt like you were in a sphere of incomparable serenity. The way your body felt. . . you felt complete. You felt self-assured. Still smiling, you raised a brow and motioned one hand to emphasize that she should continue with her train of thought. Your other hand safely held your belly, right where your baby was resting in its safe cocoon. 

“You might not like it,” she grinned. 

Instantly, you knew who she was talking about. 

Gia sighed, settling the paddles securely back in their zipped black bag. Her eyes found yours, testing the waters. Then she offered her opinion in a firm tone, “Jake would be ideal. He would be my option,” she winked, encouraging.

Your chest exhaled in relief. You weren’t crazy. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Gia had sensed your unsureness as she walked you to the front desk. She was taller than you with a sort of swagger in her trendy set of corduroy overalls. 

Nerves were wracking you, sweat already pricking in your armpits. You’d voiced your concerns to her in her office to which she’d told you to follow her.So, you had.

And when you made it to the front ‘desk’ (a tall counter with a window in front of it), you linked your hands under your belly with a sigh. Gia stopped at the counter and leaned on the heavy, light gray granite–opposite of where you stood on your way to the door. She leveled you with a stare, her fingers tapping against the expensive granite. 

“I’m just going to tell you this,” she sighed, a tiny little grin on her full lips. “Be confident. Have confidence. You can do it. Just try it out. Seriously. All you have to do is give it a try. I see it in you, y/n,” she firmly stated. Then, she got even more serious with a furrow in her dark brown brow. “Let. Him. Care, y/n. Don’t you dare work to control him just because you feel like you don’t deserve it.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

So, when you got home, you somehow found it in you to take Gia’s advice . . . and you immediately went to talk to Jake. The more you contemplated it on the drive home, you realized you weren’t really too nervous to ask him anymore. . .

The nerves had dissipated little by little as you’d rehashed your time in your safe place. How seamless things had been there. . . it felt like before. Like normal. . . and even though it wasn’t your normal anymore, you were clinging to it. It was giving you courage. And the fact that Jake was literally your safe place was giving you courage. 

Yeah, he made you nervous because he was Jake, but he also eased you so effortlessly because he was Jake. He was safe. 

He wasn’t perfect, no. But, he was someone who was permanently, preciously ingrained in your heart. Today had officially proved that. And you were carrying the sweetest little piece of him. . . that helped the nerves for sure. There was a piece of him that was always with you. And now that he knew about said precious baby, things genuinely seemed to be normal between the two of you again. . . as normal as could be at the current time.

It had you knocking on his bedroom door. 

It dawned on you as you delivered the knock that you hadn’t even thought of checking his parking space to see if he was home.  You’d been too anxious to see him and ask him what you had been encouraged to ask. . . .Before you lost the magic courage. Because, yes, let’s be real, he still made you nervous as hell. He was Jake.

It was all confusing and weird. As you stood there, waiting for longer than you’d planned, you realized he might not even be home. You could be standing here waiting for nothing. Or worse, Maya was in there with him or some shit and you were going to open the door to–.

Jake.

The door had opened to show a very sleepy, very effortlessly handsome Jake. His hair was all tousled like he’d been in a deep slumber. And when you looked past him, his bed was a mess from a nap. . .but no curvy, beautiful woman occupied it. 

The only thing you saw laying in the bed was a book, right next to the fluffed pillow where his head had been resting. It was open, laying face down with several sticky notes peeking out of the pages. And all that you could make out was a picture of a pregnant woman on the cover and the word ‘Expecting’ on the cover before your attention was brought back to him talking.

“Y/n?. . . You okay?” He was talking, voice patient and calm, but sounding as though he’d said the words a time or two before you’d come back to. 

You were quick to cover your ass to hide that you had been spying in his room. 

“Sorry,” you shook your head, looking down and clasping your hands under your tummy subconsciously. His eyes followed your hands, a little smile forming on his lips. You continued, “I just wanted to ask you something.”

His eyes opened, as if waiting for what you wanted to ask. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “What’s that?”

You cleared your throat, suddenly a little nervous, but suddenly worked to picture him in the field of lavender. And then you were okay again. He was Jake. He was safe. “I–,” you glanced down, then back up to his kind, tired eyes. Just say it, y/n. “Would you mind going to a few of my therapy appointments with me?”

“Yes,” he replied, without any hesitation whatsoever. “Of course. Special ones or. . .?”

“All of them,” you blurted, needing to clear it up. Honesty. Just be honest. Don’t fear his reaction. He’s Jake. 

Eyebrows wrinkled, his lip quirked. “All of them. . .? Like, all of the special ones or–?”

“All of the appointments. Any of the appointments I have that you can make it to. I just need someone safe to go with me,” you rushed out. 

He blinked a few times, a gentle shake of his head before his eyes got sincere and a smile spread over his pretty lips. “And you chose me?”

“Yes,” you simply answered, not trusting yourself to say anything more. There was a definite part of you still reeling from today’s session and seeing him when you imagined somewhere safe. 

Standing there for a few seconds, you could tell he had a million questions floating through his mind. And, knowing him, you knew he was probably wondering why you hadn’t chosen Josh. And, to be totally truthful, you hadn’t once thought of Josh at the prospect of someone safe being there with you to see you through after the sessions. 

Jake seemed to be the only valid option. The only person you wanted to go with you. Even if Elsie were still living here, totally accessible and available, you knew Jake still would’ve been your first choice. The therapy had been his idea. He had asked you how it was going. He was someone you trusted to talk to, and he was someone invested in this with you. And he was him.

“I’d love that,” he responded softly. “When are the appointments?”

He’d love it? Your heart was thumping in your chest at the words. Absently, you thought of your poor heart monitor, and how it was going to be picking up some crazy data due to this man. 

“Every Monday,” you quietly responded. Then, you thought, before getting your hopes up, you’d better tell him what he was really in for. . . because he might end up eating his words once he found out his job in it all. “You’ll just have to wait for me. You could run an errand or two or whatever while I’m in my hour-long sessions. . . and sometimes they might go over.” He nodded, seeming fine with that. You were shocked. Didn’t know why you were shocked because he was naturally so thoughtful. You knew this. “And then, you’ll have to be there afterwards. And I might be emotional. This form of therapy is intense,” you explained. Then, you thought . . . “Well, you probably already know that because you. . .”

“Found it,” he finished, eyes twinkling. “I’d still love to go. You’re not going to scare me away from it. I know you’re afraid of that.”

Why the fuck did he even care to read you like a damned book? Surely your thought processes didn’t matter that much to him. But, you remembered his voice, reassuring you after Applebee’s. Cleaning up some toxic thoughts you’d let form.

“. . .I didn’t stop caring about you . . .” 

“. . .Just because I’m not talking to you or falling asleep next to you . . . It doesn’t mean I don’t still want what’s best for you. Hence why I’m the one who initiated the therapy conversation. I kept my end of the deal and researched for you because I care.”

Then, it was Gia’s voice. What she’d told you that day. . .just before you’d left.

“Let him care, y/n. Don’t work to control him just because you feel like you don’t deserve it.”

Let him care. 

You decided to just continue on with the only reasonable response, eyes, filling with tears, trained on your fidgeting feet. “Thank you,” the words came out as a whisper. But you shook your head. Confidence. Looking up, you tried again, smiling with your eyes. “Thank you.”

His eyes held yours for a moment. He just let his eyes sink into yours. . .like he’d done so many times before. Just as he had in times past, he was letting himself read you. You could tell. 

Not able to help it, your cheeks filled with heat at his stare. Your heart picked up speed. You had to speak again. Break the quietness. The calmness in his observant, knowing irises was too much.  

“Will Maya be okay with it?” 

Why you chose to break the ice with her, you didn’t know. Probably to get his mind off of you and back on her. Where you knew he wanted it to be. He might have still cared for you, but she was the woman he loved. To him, you were sure that she mattered in this just as much as you did.

He shut his eyes once briefly, and with a shake of his head, he was back. His eyebrows dipped, pursed his lips with a curt nod. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure,” he assured. He tightened his fingers against his biceps. You couldn’t help but watch his strong hand flex. “I’ll–um, I’ll just tell her when the appointments are so she knows I’m not available on those days.”

Shit. You didn’t want to take him away from her. You hadn’t even thought of that. That would definitely be selfish. And not available on those days? Like, not available at all? Was he planning on spending entire Mondays with you?

Hurriedly, you offered a response to make sure to clear the air. “Oh my god. I didn’t even think of you having to–,” you groaned. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t go with me if it’s going to interrupt your plans with her.”

His brows wrinkled. “I never said that.”

“It was implied,” you defended your thought process. 

“No, it wasn’t.”

You were suddenly irritated that he wasn’t understanding why you felt bad. “I just don’t want to be selfish, Jake. That’s all I’m saying. God.”

He rolled his eyes, hands getting stuffed in the pockets of the sweatpants he was wearing. You just realized how low they hung on his hips. You could see the very bottom of his stomach with the way he’d cut his t-shirt, just above the hip bones. You flicked your eyes back to his face when he spoke again. And, again, your face was hot. 

“I was literally saying I want to be there for you and I need to tell her that’s what I’m doing on those days,” he explained, tone sharp and patient all at once. He was putting his foot down.

You conceded. But. . . it made you think of something. Maybe it was the tan stomach of his skin and how badly you wanted to run your fingers across it. Or perhaps it was the fact that the woman in question might not be privy to one important detail. 

So, you asked. “Does she know I’m pregnant with your baby yet?”

His baby. 

You ignored the thought, instead training your mind on the serious matter at hand: would she be okay with it if she knew you were pregnant with his baby?

“No,” he curtly replied. Then, his tone was entirely calm when he stated, “She won’t know until you give me the okay to tell her. I told you that already.”

Flushing, you found his eyes. You tried your best to match the sincerity in his irises with your own. “Thank you for being considerate of that.”

“Of course,” his lips twitched to a small grin, then fell back to a purse. He chewed the inside of his cheek.

Fuck. You needed to wrap this up. You were wasting his time. But–you had to know. . . 

You cleared your throat, replacing your hands from below your tummy to cross under your boobs. The way his eyes flickered down with the action couldn’t be ignored and it gave you the push to ask. “. . .what does she know about us?”

“She knows you’re my friend and that we’re close because we live together,” he offered.

For some reason, the fact that he’d called you his friend made your heart leap into the bottom of your throat. It made you sort of sad, yet happy at the same time. Sad that you couldn’t be more, but glad that he was willing to call you such a wonderful thing. Did he seriously trust you to be his friend?

“We’re friends?” You shyly pondered. 

Aaand hormones were officially in control of your dialogue. It was time to wrap it up. Quick. You eyed the ground, embarrassed at your lack of control over questions.

But, his response was measured, so sweetly assuring you with his next words. His voice was soft and raspy, “I never wanted to not be your friend.” Then, suddenly, he was touching you. His hand was placed on your cheek, lifting your face gently to look into his eyes. There was no saving the response on the heart monitor data. And the swarm of buzzing butterflies in your tummy. You lost yourself in his gaze. “No matter what happens, you are my friend. I always want to be your friend, honey.” 

Honey. 

Your pulse increased tenfold and you couldn’t help the flutter of your lashes, your eyes watery yet again. 

His hand was still on your cheek, and a warm blush had settled in them when you mumbled, ashamed. “I hate you ditching your girlfriend for me. I don’t want to be selfish.”

A finger smoothed gently on your cheek, just beneath your lashes. “You’re not being selfish. And I’m not ditching her,” he removed his hand, and your heart sputtered a few times, trying to balance all of the emotions transpiring within you. He reached behind him, grabbing the handle of the door and shutting it behind him. When he moved forward with the motion, you stepped back. Didn’t want to risk getting too close. His eyes found yours as he consoled you. “Please quit thinking of it like that. I promised to be there–to help you–you a long time ago, and I intend to keep that promise. Let me.”

You were back in the hallway at your grandparents’ home. He was coming to sit next to you, against their beige, textured walls. The house, smelling like the pie that was baking. Familiar and safe. But the home had been the last thing making you feel safe in that moment. It was the man sitting next to you, telling you to let him help you.

“I want to help you. Let me.”

The same night he’d made the promise to find a therapist for you. Then, you were in his bed that night. . .Your cheek, on his damp chest.

 Tears were falling on his chest, your chest was tight as they kept coming, his skin prickling in their wake. “I–I’m sor–sorry.”

“Why, baby?” His voice settled your nerves. Warm. Soft. Him. 

“I hate that you have to see me cry,” you sniffled, wiping at the tears on his chest. But instead of letting you continue, he’d held your hand there, so you could feel the stable beat of his heart. 

“If crying is what it takes to heal, I’m here to listen to you as you wade through it.”

And, then, again. . . those same words filtered through your memory through a warm haze. 

Laying on top of him, in his bed, as you’d stared deeply into the darkness of his eyes, he’d earnestly spoken to you. “I want to help you. Let me.”

“Okay,” you sighed in the present time, your eyes not containing the pools accumulating in them, a singular tear falling down your cheek. 

Thankfully, it happened when he had decided to go back into his room to get something. And as soon as you’d brushed it away, he was back in front of you and had his phone in his hand. It was open, his fingers above the keyboard to show he was about to start typing. 

“What do you want me to tell her you need me for?” He looked up at you, hands steady around the phone as his eyes waited for you. His eyes, open and willing to help. Willing to understand. “I don’t have to tell her that it’s for therapy.”

“You can tell her it’s for therapy,” you responded. His brow raised, as if to ask ‘you sure?’, to which you responded, “I’m sure,” you grinned. Then, you continued on with what would be a valid excuse to give her for why you wanted him to go. “Just tell her you have to drive me to the appointments I have on those days because it’s a long drive that I don’t want to take by myself.”

His lips lifted easily, eyes tired, still, but wholly there with you to help. “Okay.”

As he typed, you stood there–so grateful for him. God, he was amazing. You could not believe there was ever a time you’d thought any different. Jake Kiszka. . . he was the man of fucking dreams. You knew he was. And you’d. . . let him go.

But, as you still believed, it was for good reason that you’d cut things off.

It kept lines drawn and clear and simple. Kept him focused on the dream. It just helped. Right?

Once he’d shoved the phone in his pocket and you’d heard the sending noise and the click of the phone going off, you decided to go ahead and let him be. You began walking to your room, and he started walking in the direction of the front of the apartment. Just as you’d opened your door, suddenly very sleepy and sore from your body growing a human, you spoke again. “Thank you, Jake.”

He turned as soon as you’d spoken, his gaze calm and falling on yours gently. His eyes felt like the breeze on a warm, spring day. The same sort of day you’d imagined in your safe place. 

“Don’t thank me,” he started. His phone chimed in his pocket, but he didn’t even reach for it. Instead, he crossed to you once more, your chest heating at him coming close again. And, once more, his hand reached up to delicately hold your face. The callouses that grazed your cheek brought so much comfort. They were familiar and felt like peace. “This is something I want to do. You don’t have to thank me.” 

Your mouth opened to dispute and as soon as you did, he saw it. 

At this, his lips lifted and he held your cheek fully in his palm, eyes boring into yours as he spoke. “Don’t argue with me. I mean every word. And you know it.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Life was finally feeling peaceful again with Jake back in it, and in the know about the baby. Having him as a friend in your life was filling your cup – just the mere knowledge of him being there made you rest easier. Every morning was the same. A comfortable, reassuring sort of same. 

You’d wake up, and lay in your bed for a few minutes, rubbing your belly. Checking the Ovia app to read something new about the baby to start the day, you’d also check the size of the baby on that given week for the 100th time on that given week. After clicking your phone off, you would lay there and ponder your day and everything that you had to do. 

And once your feet touched the ground, you were walking to grab underwear, a maternity bra (because, yes, you’d purchased one with the speed your boobs had grown). Then came the outfit you’d set out the night before. (Even though sometimes, there would be a last minute change in wardrobe due to day-to-day changes in your body – the insecurities were slowly becoming very real, the more your body changed. And even the teeniest, tiniest changes were strikingly obvious to you.) 

The bathroom was your next stop. You’d take off the heart monitor before your shower, brush your teeth, and in the shower, you would glance down at your belly, water washing over it, to reflect on the person inside of it and how he or she was growing. And these days, you spent a lot of time wondering if the baby was a he or she. . . Just as you’d lean towards one guess, you’d lean towards the other. On certain days, you would wash your hair and if it hadn’t been very long, you’d skip that step. 

Once finished with the shower, you’d observe yourself to see if any stretch marks had grown, and at this point, a few had shown up, so a special cream was one the way that would be added to your morning and nightly routine to help prevent those from sticking around. Now, all you did was brush your hair and usually put it in a claw clip to avoid sweating profusely by keeping it against your neck. Then, you’d replace the adhesive of your heart monitor and adjust it to track your heart rate. 

You were so ready to be done with the stupid fucking device. It was a pain for many reasons. . . and you just hated the way it looked on your chest. It was a huge blemish on your changing body. A body that you were already feeling insecure enough about, even without the monitor.

When you’d trail back to your bedroom after your shower, you finished out the routine by taking your prenatals, checking your hemoglobin (which was doing consistently well, relieving you every time you saw the numbers stay positive), and you would pop a PregEase into your mouth to chew. The chewable had helped drastically with your nausea, and you weren’t planning on stopping it any time soon.

Finally, you’d go to the kitchen counter after making a smoothie in your BlendJet, and sit there to sip it as you read through The Panic-Free Pregnancy, taking notes in a notebook you’d purchased solely for baby notes.

And, now, since Jake had found out, he’d greet you in the kitchen or on your way to the bathroom to shower and he’d check on the baby. Check on how you were feeling. It always made you blush with the fact that he cared to check in. It was just really fucking sweet of him. Showed his heart. Of course, it wasn’t for you, it was for the baby. But still. . . it made your heart skip a beat. 

The day before Thanksgiving was no different. Except, this morning, Jake stopped you just as you’d grabbed your backpack and opened the door to leave for school. 

“Hey,” he called out to you. Your phone buzzed in your black LuluLemon, slung across your chest. When you turned, he flashed his phone screen towards you briefly. “Josh just texted in the group chat and asked if it was okay for us to have Friendsgiving here like you usually do. Day after Thanksgiving. Want me to tell him it’s fine?”

“Of course,” you grinned, getting your phone out to see the text for yourself. But, as you did, you also saw you were cutting it close to make it to class on time. Grabbing your keys out of your bag, you quickly responded, opening the door wider, one foot out. “Just tell him yes.”

He began typing as you went to walk out, the Jetta gave its signature beep across the parking lot as you unlocked it. But just as you stepped out, you stopped. Fuck. You’d have to clean the place. 

Normally, it would be no big deal, but you were still working long hours and keeping up with several classes while also being pregnant. . . 

So, you stepped back into the apartment, hand still holding the door open. You glanced up at him, accepting your fate. “I'll probably be cleaning the apartment tonight. I don’t want to have to fight any real baby tiredness on top of any food baby tiredness tomorrow night. I already get sleepy at the end of Thanksgiving Day, and I’m sure it’ll just be worse this year with,” you pointed to your belly. 

His eyes twinkled, but he didn’t say anything. . .probably because you were rambling and he was annoyed by it.

You twisted the knob, needing to leave, but wanting to let him know, “You can find something to do tonight so you don’t have to be around me and my obsessive compulsive cleaning habits.” 

He raised a brow, placing his phone on the counter. “Would it be okay if I helped you clean?”

“Um,” you faltered, nervous of him seeing that cringeworthy side of you. “I get really intense when I clean for special events.”

“I’m sure,” he grinned, winking. Your tummy swarmed with butterflies at the gesture. He continued, “But I still want to help you. Will you let me?”

Let him.

“I get kind of scary.”

“I don’t care.”

You measured him with your eyes, contemplating. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t love his help. . . It would be fantastic to have someone help you. You just didn’t want to scare him away. 

You’re having his baby, y/n. Did you scare him away when he found out about that? Or did he want to help you then, too? And what about when he–?

“Sure,” you said, promptly cutting off the voice in your head. “You can help. I’m just warning you. My control issues are bound to go haywire when I deep clean.”

“For good reason,” he defended. “In that circumstance.”

Your lips raising into a soft smile couldn’t be stopped. “Thanks, Jake.”

The soft smile didn’t leave your face as you made the trek to your car. 

Then it all came crashing down when you passed Maya in all of her graceful, voluptuous beauty, right before you got to your car. Your outfit of a giant sweater and loose AE jeans suddenly paled in comparison to her sexy black pencil skirt and tight white button-up shirt. Her perfume, sweet and expensive, wafting off of her in waves as she passed by you with a smile and a quick wave. Then there was you: wearing your Bath and Body Works body spray that you got on sale for $5.95.

Her heels clicked past you as your old white Nikes caught a rock and almost made you trip, eliciting a weird noise from your mouth. Hand on the belly, you caught yourself – not so gracefully. When you looked behind you to see if she’d witnessed it, she was already knocking on the door of the apartment. . .and being greeted with a kiss from Jake. The smile was absolutely wiped off your face at the sight of that.

Of course, your mind traveled to a not-so-fun place as you buckled into your car and went to turn on your soul music playlist. You just sat there, contemplating once more how much it sucked that you couldn’t be with him. It was even more sad with your predicament – it made your heart jump into your throat that you couldn’t complete the natural circle of two parents with a baby.

The song that started off the playlist was perfect for bringing you out of your slump, though. The Commodores singing about being ”High On Sunshine” reminded you of how serene and peaceful you’d felt when you’d woken up. Life was going well. . .Truly, completely well. You didn’t need a relationship with Jake to complete a circle of sorts. . . Really. Especially at this point in your life.

You could be friends – it really wouldn’t be so bad. Just friends. You’d take what you could get. Things would be fine.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I don’t mind you telling her now,” you mentioned that night, packing up a nice dinner he’d made after you’d cleaned the entire apartment. 

He’d made chicken fajitas. 

Considering the meal was a crowd favorite (the crowd being you and the baby), it had been wonderful when you’d found out tonight how damn good he was at making them. Although, saying that you were packing it up into leftover containers with him. . .was a lie. 

You were leaning against the ledge of the counter top, watching him put it in Tupperware. He’d told you to sit and rest your feet and that he would worry about putting it away. Only agreeing halfway, you sure rested but didn’t rest your feet like he’d asked. After quietly accepting the offer with a quiet okay, you nodded your head. Then, you went to stand against the counter. 

“Please. Sit.” He’d encouraged, his voice slightly impatient, already weary with you. By the look in his eyes, you knew that he knew it was no use and that you weren’t going to agree. “You had to go to school and workwork today. You should rest your feet.”

Even though your feet did hurt like hell, you still weren’t about to let him boss you around. 

“Nah, I think I’m good,” you replied, shrugging. You took turns balancing and bouncing between each foot, totally giving you away. “I sit around too much.”

“Y/n.”

“Jake.”

He’d given you a look. And you had stared right back until he gave up and rolled his eyes before going about his business. 

In the present time, he was once again peering at you. But this time, his eye brow was raised in curiosity. “What?” He asked, unsure.

“You can tell Maya if you want,” you repeated, your eyes encouraging. “Tell her that you’re having a baby,” you laughed under your breath at that. A piece of hair fell from its place behind your ear. “Or, I guess, if we’re being technical. . . That I’m having your baby.”

He didn’t laugh along with the funny wording, just continued looking at you like you’d grown three heads. 

“Why?”

You didn’t know. All you knew was that Maya wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. So, in order to save Jake some extra stress, he’d better tell her sooner rather than later. That was it. 

“Just want it to be out in the open,” you stated plainly, shrugging once more. “Josh is going to tell Sam and Daniel for me soon. . . Explain all of the nitty gritty details of us so I don’t have to again.”

His face sank momentarily. Though, it didn’t last long enough for you to be sure if it wasn’t something you’d imagined.

“On top of that, I’m telling my grandparents tomorrow, so you just go ahead and tell her,” you explained further, trying to convince him it was okay.

He blinked a few times, probably processing it all. And then he responded.

“Okay,” he finally said, lips making a lopsided grin, eyes still containing a sense of curiosity.

“Okay,” you echoed, suddenly feeling the reality of him telling her. . . the reality of Josh telling Sammy and Danny. . .

It was about to be out in the open. Everyone was about to know. Not counting the doctors or Gia, a tiny total of four people in your life knew. Only four. You, Elsie, Josh, and Jake. And now, that number was about to increase. And with your permission, no less. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 24, 2022

You were on your way to your grandparents’ house, Elsie being your chauffeur when you filled her in on all of the therapy appointments (though, not the person secured in your safe place), your heart monitor in all of its ridiculous, agonizing glory.

Then, the boys’ careers came up in conversation. The music. The albums. The photoshoots. You even told her about the fan who called Jake hot. And as she was laughing about the fan interaction, and how uncomfy she was sure it made you, you thought to text Jake something that needed to be said. Something you’d believed in with your whole heart since the beginning. His career. 

It was even more important to you now that you were going to have his baby. It had trailed through your mind enough times that you knew you needed to share it with him. 

You, 12:02 p.m.: Please don’t put your career on hold for me or the baby.

It took a few moments, when Elsie was in the middle of telling you that she wasn’t sure how she felt about other girls calling Josh hot. You were absently agreeing on not being sure about it when you got the notification of his response.

Jake, 12:05 p.m.: I won’t. I’ll figure it out. 

And while you were in the middle of having one hard conversation, you decided on another. Something that broke your heart to say, but you believed in it just like you did the other topic. It was going to be awkward to talk about in person, so you were going to be a coward and hide behind the phone to say it.

You, 12:06 p.m.: We also don’t need to be in a relationship.

After sending it, you instantly realized the perspiration that had gathered on your palms. Instead of talking to Elsie, you just stared at your phone. After finding out, he’d turned his read receipts on, so you were able to see the moment he’d seen the message. 

While cleaning the night before, you’d asked him about it and his response was that he had done it so there weren’t any holes in your communication about baby-related things.

Jake, 12:08 p.m.: Never said we did. I don’t need that.

I don’t need that.

Translated, you knew it was a way of saying it would cause unnecessary stress. And you’d be remiss to ignore that the stress would most definitely result from you and your stupid emotional instability. And that thought just reminded you that the baby was the most important person to work on being emotionally stable for–not its father. 

Nonetheless, his response hurt way more than it should have. It cut fucking deep. For no reason whatsoever, because you knew he had a point. You believed the same as he did. Your previous text said as much. You just had to think logically. 

Jake, 12:09 p.m.: 1, I’m already in a relationship

Jake, 12:09 p.m.: and 2, it’ll be easier for us because we won’t have to worry about a relationship. It’s good that we’re just friends.

He was right. He made sense. You knew it. It was good to be just friends.

You, 12:10 p.m.: You are very right. I’m glad we’re on the same page.

Jake, 12:10 p.m.: and as far as touring and the band goes, we can figure out how to handle a baby in all of it. We’ll just work in a few more breaks or something

Jake, 12:11 p.m.: don’t worry about that. We’ll be fine. 

Jake, 12:11 p.m.: and by “we” I mean you, me and the baby

Right as you’d pulled up to your grandparents’ home, you sent him a final text about it. If you were being totally honest, the conversation made you feel sick to your stomach and you just wanted to focus on the fact that it was Thanksgiving. 

There was also the fact that you were more than just a little nervous about rocking your grandparents’ entire world. 

You, 12:22 p.m.: Thank you for talking to me about this. We can talk about it more at some other point. Have a good Thanksgiving!

Instantly, he read it. But it took him a bit to respond. You knew he was busy with family and Maya. And again, your stomach was knotted at another thought. Her. Them. Dream couple.

Jake, 12:25 p.m.: for sure. We’ll find time :) 

Jake, 12:25 p.m.: happy thanksgiving, y/n. I’m thankful for you. I really hope you know that.

With that last text, your heart sped up, your monitor phone beeping repeatedly in your belt bag to notify you of it. As if you couldn’t already feel the way your heart was about to literally beat out of your chest at his words. You grumpily unzipped your bag to get it out, locking your phone on your lap.

“Holy shit, dude,” Elsie exclaimed as she shut off the car. “Are you okay?! What’s happening?!”

You reassured her that it was just your monitor telling you your heart rate had gone up. But you made an excuse for why. Didn’t want her on your ass.

“I’m just really nervous to tell Grandma and Grandpa,” you lied.

You didn’t have to wait long for it to stop beeping. Thank God. It was annoying as hell, calling you out when you did not want to be called out. Finally, it turned off, though.

Elsie’s eyes became sympathetic, her delicate hand coming out to squeeze your sweater-clad arm. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be there the whole time. Deep breaths,” she calmly assured, taking a few with you. “And they’ll honestly just be really excited. Grandma, immediately. . . but Grandpa. . .”

“. . .Might take him a while,” you finished.

Your Grandma wasn’t necessarily your greatest worry, but she had been known to judge a time or two. . . Your Grandpa on the other hand. . . he was in a constant state of disappointment. All in all, you really had no fucking clue what to expect. Within seconds, the two of you were busting up at the thought. He was a pain in the ass. The definition of a crotchety old man. Laughing with Elsie was therapeutic. And this laughter in particular was incredibly necessary.

She waited for you to feel calm enough to go inside, and once you did, you got out to follow Elsie to the door. You never responded to the text. Didn’t even react to it with an exclamation, thumb, or heart. You didn’t want to mess anything up. 

So, you just let it be your last positive push before going inside your grandparents’. Because, while it hadn’t been the reason to make your monitor go batshit crazy, it was still incredibly nerve wracking to tell the people that raised you. The idea of telling them that you were pregnant by a man you weren’t in a relationship with. . . yeah.

You closed your eyes momentarily to locate your Safe Place. You’d gotten quite good at finding it. All you had to do was close your eyes and call it. But as Elsie unlocked the door to let the two of you in, the present time was unkindly welcoming you back in with anxious arms. 

Deep. Fucking. Breaths.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Thanksgiving was one of your favorite holidays. Christmas was your absolute favorite, but Thanksgiving was right up there, just behind it. 

For one, it meant your whole family got to be together for a holiday, and you loved getting to spend time with your family. It felt more special than just about anything else. . . and Thanksgiving was so great because it was just a day where you sat around, eating food, being with each other, talking and laughing. It was a holiday meant to force you to ruminate on why you were thankful for each other– a holiday that was designed to bring out the best in a person.

The hope that your grandparents would only have love in their hearts when they heard your news was the only thing that had pulled you and your nerves through the doorway. The same doorway you’d entered through a million and one times before. Except this time, someone else was entering with you. Your hand touched subconsciously to your rounded belly. There was nothing you could do about your predicament now, so you could only hope for the best responses they could muster.

As you walked in, the smell of your Grandma’s ever-famous smoked turkey flooded your senses, momentarily calming you. It reminded you of the main reason Thanksgiving and Christmas were your favorite holidays. They’d been that way for years–as long as you could remember. Her turkey was an absolute favorite of yours dating all the way back to your childhood. Cooking was her love language, and you first learned that before you ever went to live with your grandparents. You could remember loving it and finding solace in the taste of her full, home cooked meal on the rare occasion that your mom decided to celebrate the holidays with her parents. 

The taste and aroma of your Grandmother’s food represented peace for you–especially her holiday food. Holidays were special because they were the only time you were ever able to escape your mother and the now-hazy situations she’d put you in for the first ten years of your life. And then, when you’d gone to live with them, you’d finally found safety and security. . . The taste of her food had just continued its pattern of bringing you the feeling of comfort.

The times your mom would tote you and Elsie over state lines to see them were always very special. They were bittersweet memories for you. It was the only way you’d been able to see your grandparents then, as she never made them privy to your changing living locations. The three of you were always on the move. Never in one place for too long. But every home was dirtier than the last, a new man who would occupy it, as if anxiously anticipating your arrival.

You shook your head at those times–didn’t want to think about it for too long. Those thoughts led down dangerous, terrifying, dark paths that you didn’t want to experience on a day like today. Those times were the ones you’d explore in EMDR with a licensed professional at the ready to help guide you. 

You’d decided years ago that you weren’t going to venture down those paths alone. Didn’t want to bother Elsie, so instead, you’d instead pushed the memories away to near nonexistence. And. . . today was not the day you planned to change that. You wanted Gia with you for that, thank you very much. 

As you walked closer to the kitchen, you heard the sounds of your grandparents’ laughter, sounding so much like you were used to. . . You could only hope and pray to everything that it would continue on as normal—as normal as it could be—after they found out your big news. 

The warm hugs and expressions of joy that greeted you as the two of you rounded the corner were both a reassurance and an added stressor to your shaky nerves. You really didn’t want to shake their world too much. . . Didn’t want this to change. This was your first true home. They were your first people.

The people who took you and your sister in when you had no one else, the ones who raised you, showed you love when it felt your entire world lacked it. You couldn’t quite rid the apprehension to tell them. You would not be able to until the news officially left your mouth. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I’m pregnant.”

The sound of forks clinking against plates and the deafening sound of silence surrounded the entire dining room. You weren’t sure where the fuck it had come from–why you’d chosen to say it when you did. . . but there was no doubt it was out now. No questions were asked. Not yet. All eyes in the room, trained on you. Everyone sat still, totally unmoving and in total shock. 

Thankfully, only a few moments of it had to pass before your sister broke the silence. She was trying to buy some peace for you. Just as much as you, she was not a fan of awkward silence or tension.

“I, for one, am so, so excited,” Elsie beamed, looking back and forth between your grandparents, whose mouths were still clamped shut. “It’s going to be wonderful–the sweetest addition to this family!”

After only a few seconds of Elsie’s attempt to ease the air, your Grandma started blinking and you soon realized that she was blinking back tears. Oh no. . . was she upset? Disappointed? The woman who raised you so well – loved you better than anyone ever had before, who took you in when no one else wanted you. . . She didn’t need to sit there feeling any negative emotions only because of your careless decision. Just like she’d done for you, you needed to comfort her in this moment of unclarity. 

You went to rise from your seat, beginning an explanation you weren’t quite sure of yet once you were standing. “Grandma, I–.”

“Babygirl!” Your Grandmother exclaimed, bursting into tears. And before you could make it from where you stood beside your floral padded chair, she was walking to you – as fast as her frail legs could carry her. Even though you watched her every move, the feeling of her arms wrapping around you came before you expected it to. “We couldn’t be happier. I don’t even have to look at your Grandfather to know he’s as ecstatic as me. I know he loves you just like I do,” she sighed, squeezing you gently. Her shaky, familiar voice spoke softly in your ear, “A baby is the greatest gift – especially if it’s one of my babies’ babies.”

You blinked back all of the emotion that nestled comfortably into your bones. The distinct, wistfully familiar notes of Chanel No. 5 wrapped around you as tight as her arms. And, suddenly, the scent had you back in a mirage of memories where she was holding you just the same. 

The first time a boy had broken your heart at thirteen years old. When you fell off your bike the month after you moved in with them, crying more over your mother than the bike wreck. Anytime you and Elsie got into some asinine bickering match that only your Grandmother could settle. . . So many times she’d held you just like this. Except this time, you felt it differently, gripped closer to her, not ready to let go. . . you’d needed this so badly. Hadn’t even realized just how badly you needed to feel her hold you after finding this out. 

You sniffed, finally letting yourself part from her. She wasn’t going to be the first to let go, so you made the move. “Grandma,” you looked directly into her eyes, getting lost in the aging, watery icy blue irises. “Your approval – and Grandpa’s,” you glanced at him briefly, a small smile on his face as he watched you. Your heart leapt. “It meant more to me than anyone else’s.” 

Elsie huffed and made a noise. Your Grandma giggled at Elsie’s indignance. You rolled your eyes, turning to your sister for a split second to give her a look, then faced the aging woman once more. “Almost anyone else’s. I was just scared to let you down, although I. . .,” you paused momentarily, blinking back tears as her perfume infiltrated your senses once more as she pushed some hair delicately behind your ear. “I should have known better than that.”

“My precious babygirl, there is nothing you could ever do that would make us think less of you,” she insisted, bringing her hand down to your arm, softly soothing circles into your flesh through your sweater. “Not only have we told you that your entire life, but I could only hope we have been able to show it to you. Just how much you mean and how we are always on your side – no matter what.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

The rest of the dinner and dessert went on about the same, with your Grandpa actually receiving the news very well–only grumbling slightly at the idea of the father not being around.

To which Elsie had quickly defended with a correction, pointed straight at your Grandfather, her eyes glued to him. “Don’t be so quick to make assumptions, Grandpa.”

You’d joined in, too, not wanting her to have to approach that on her own. It wasn’t her responsibility to have to make any reassurances for your mindless decision. 

“He is in the picture, Grandpa,” you assured, swallowing your bite of pumpkin pie. Your eyes linked with his, begging him to understand. “I never said he wasn’t. I only said that I didn’t want to tell you who he is yet.”

After that, he’d simmered down on the father subject enough for dessert to finish up. And, as Elsie and your Grandma went to put away leftovers, you led the way to the living room to set up A Christmas Story. It was a Thanksgiving tradition to watch it after stuffing your faces to the point of exhaustion. 

Just as you’d gotten the movie queued up, you heard his telling sigh behind you. His years-old maroon, fabric recliner, moaning with the sudden weight of a person. You gave him the slightest smile, still unsure of how to act around him as he’d been supportive, just quiet about it. 

His reaction could definitely be expected, but you didn’t want it. You just wanted him to not act crotchety, just this once. Problem was, you were kind of stuck on what to say. So, instead of saying anything to initiate conversation, you sat on your phone, checking Instagram stories. 

So many fucking coupley photos with the most generic captions. But, to your complete relief, nothing had yet been posted by Jake or Maya (yes, you followed her now–for no other reason but to torture yourself). Just as you were about to check your Ovia app for the second time that day, you heard your Grandpa clear his throat. 

You just acted oblivious, though, not wanting to look up unless he actually wanted to talk. Didn’t want to push him or anything. . . poke the bear. 

“Sugarplum,” he started, using the nickname he’d penned for you years ago. 

Your heart lightened at the nickname. Anytime he used it, you knew he was about to say something sweet and slightly outside of his comfort zone. And by that, it meant he was going to say something particularly tender and sweet. Two things he was not used to being. . . Save for the heart he’d had when he started using the nickname. It had come at a sensitive time. 

The nickname came from a precious tradition. After you’d come to live with them, he’d started the tradition. The man had been determined to make you and your sister feel better, and he’d always been better with actions than words. So, the year your sister and you had come to live with them, he’d started taking you to the Nutcracker. It was a whole thing. 

Every Christmas season, your family of four would get all dolled up (you and Elsie, having had matching Christmas dresses and ringlet curls–hair-sprayed to the point of crunchy– the first couple of years). Then, you’d go eat at Carmine’s before attending a performance of the Nutcracker ballet – always at David H. Koch Theater. 

You weren’t sure what he was about to say, but the nickname always meant it was going to be rather softhearted.

“Sweetie,” he sighed. You looked at him, seeing every wrinkle and age spot on his worn features. His face held every ounce of compassion you were sure he could muster. Your eyes already teary at the cold, snowy memories you’d just re-lived, and seeing him in such a vulnerable state had you gasp just slightly. “I love this baby. I love you. And I am so happy for you–overjoyed,” he said, singing it in the tone of the Stevie Wonder tune. You gasped on another breath, a tear springing from your eye to cheek. “Very, very much so, honey.”

“Really?” You couldn’t help but mutter.

“With all my heart I mean it,” he confirmed, eyes crinkling at the edges with a smile in them. “I only get short-tempered about the father because I don’t want to witness the child being abandoned or betrayed by men the way you and Elsie–,” he shook his head, draining a thought he was in the middle of. He grunted, eyes glassy when he looked at you again. “I don’t need this baby’s father being absent like yours was, is all. I get infinitely resentful on the subject of the people who did you and your sister wrong. . . and I just can’t have that for my great-grandchild either.”

There was no response you could possibly give save for the intermittent sniffles that accompanied the tears that wetted your cheeks. So, all you did was nod, a shaky smile on your lips. The man deeply loved you. You knew that. But, it made your heart hurt in a strange way when he’d say things that truly proved it. . . since he so rarely did. The baby must have meant a lot to him already, for him to feel so inclined to bare his heart like this. 

“I love that child and I will protect it in my role as long as I can,” he said, his own voice wobbling on the words. “I promise you, Sugarplum. Just like I did for you and your sister.”

After a couple of moments, you found something to say, out of the mess of emotions hugging your heart. 

“This baby’s father will be nothing like ours,” you said, without a doubt. You barely remembered the man who’d helped make the two of you. He hadn’t ever really been around–a sperm donor at best. “He’s an incredible man. The baby is very lucky to have him.”

The words pinched your chest, your stomach twisting tight on what you’d said. . . Jake was so wonderful. Even if he didn’t want you, he wanted the baby. You knew that. You knew it. You had seen it in his eyes the moment you’d said the baby was his. Jake Kiszka was special and you were glad your baby would be part of him–was already part of him. You were glad the baby had him.

You just weren’t ready to tell your grandparents it was him. . . you didn’t want either of them to unrightfully judge Jake if they were to know. Especially your Grandfather. . . they’d had such an honest, genuine connection. It had been magical to witness. Jake, having been the person to bring the old man out of his shell for the first time in your entire life. 

You knew you had to tell them soon, but it just didn’t feel like the right time quite yet. . . There was so much going on already. The two of them finding out the identity of the baby’s father could wait just a little longer. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You got home around eleven o’clock that night, after taking Elsie to Josh’s. The night had been exactly what your soul needed. Time with your Grandma and Grandpa, as well as a car jam session with Elsie on the way to her boyfriend’s apartment. 

The reason you’d finished so late was because your grandparents hadn’t really wanted the night to end. After sitting through every end credit of A Christmas Story, you’d rented the brand new A Christmas Story Christmas on the Roku TV you’d Christmas-gifted the two elderly people a year ago. 

Although, you hadn’t ended up paying much attention to the movie since your grandparents had been determined to hear all about Elsie’s travels and your current. . . predicament. They had also questioned you about school.

Thankfully, you’d given a few barely-there answers and the conversation had basically concluded on that subject. There hadn’t even been an onslaught of career-based questions. All of the baby-related inquiries had been a good distraction from that. 

They’d even stayed up past their bedtime of nine o’clock, aiming to hear every last detail of your life and Elsie’s. But, there’d come a point that your Grandpa had fallen asleep as he’d tuned out, signaling the end of the evening. 

So, at 11:00, you were finally pulling in to the apartment complex, safe and sound into your designated parking spot. Jake’s car was where he usually parked it, you noticed. But, you already knew he was home. He’d texted about an hour back asking when you’d be home, to which you’d responded with an I don’t know, a little flutter in your tummy as you typed. 

Even though he hadn’t responded, it didn’t crush you. Truly. You were becoming accustomed to your present relationship with him. . . well. . . .at least you were really trying to become accustomed.

On the way up to the apartment, you barely made the last step with how utterly exhausted you were. The act of carrying a child was not easy work and honestly, your grandparents hadn’t been the only ones staying up past their bedtime. You’d kept the heavy-lidded blinking at bay at your childhood home, but as you unlocked the door, you let out a long yawn which felt like it’d been waiting for hours to be released. Because it had been. You hadn’t wanted to be rude while engaging in conversation. Felt so relaxing and the action in and of itself had totally drained you. Your comfy, cozy bed was calling you.

When you entered the apartment, you were assaulted by the wondrous smells of something sweet and sugary–the scent was closely comparable to cake or cupcakes. You almost let your nose drag you to the source, but when you looked into the kitchen on your trek to your bedroom, you hastily decided against that idea. And you suddenly felt like you were going to profusely vomit. 

Jake, with his back facing you as he leaned against the kitchen island, his fingers grasping at nothing, only gripping what he could of the counter his ass was pressing against. His beautiful locks of hair were all stringy and messy–the telling sign of hands having been run through it. His moans were enough to make you grow chills from both distaste and lust. The sound of him reaching his release was unlike any other. . . 

But the infuriating fact that it was coming from the tanned, curvaceous woman on her knees in front of him. Who, unfortunately, you could see from the side of the island. And to make matters worse, she was barely fucking clothed. A tiny sheer dress of black lingerie, the only thing you could see from your vantage point. She had her free hand bunched into the material at the back of his gray t-shirt, holding onto him for dear fucking life as she went to town.

When the bile rose to your throat, you knew you had to get away before you threw up. You did not want to puke up any Thanksgiving food, thank you very much. Couldn’t ruin the sentimental dishes only because of Jake and his frustratingly beautiful girlfriend. 

To your relief, once you made it to your room, quiet as a mouse, you found your Stanley as cold as you’d left it (praises-fucking-be for Stanley insulation). And you didn’t have to force sleep after you’d taken a quick makeup wipe to your face and put on an oversized Pratt t-shirt. 

The moans and groans and whiny-fucking-sighs from the kitchen faded out in no time as sleep almost instantly found you. 

Thank fucking God for the tiredness that came with making a human. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: see you tomorrow w part 2... Friendsgiving will kick off pt 2... there is so much to come ;)

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts! love youuuu <3

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98

(and, due to t*mblr’s shitass guidelines, i will be adding the other tags in a reblog of the story!)

[affixjoy]

I’ve been trying to bookmark the fics that I like more often so I can actually remember where to find things, but I like the idea of talking about them here more too. I’ve been blown away by the talent and creativity in this fandom and I want to shout it from the rooftops!

With that in mind, here are some Spirk fics that I’ve loved lately!

Time After Time by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin)

Summary:

Sam Kirk’s younger brother James is posted to the Enterprise on a six-month rotation. Spock, preoccupied with thoughts of his sister, regards this as an unique opportunity to study another pair of adult siblings in their natural habitat.

That is very much not what happens.

My thoughts: guys I feel absolutely insane about this one. It’s just so, so good. It was one of the first Spirk fics I read when I started getting into it a few months ago, and I just reread it last week because I wanted to know if it was as good as I remembered. It very much is!!!

Highlights: sibling feelings, horny mind melds, THE DINNER TABLE SCENE, dungeons and dragons.

Entering Orbit by museaway

SUMMARY:

Jim escapes to Iowa to avoid the media frenzy following the Narada incident, but a late-night miscommunication results in Spock turning up on his front porch.

My thoughts: this was great to read after watching Star Trek (2009) a few weeks ago. I don’t love the Abrams movies but there is some really spectacular fic out there for them that almost makes up for it.

Highlights: Bartender Jim and cooking for each other.

Not in Front of the Klingons by @android-and-ale

Summary: Our beloved Old Married Spirk have been sent off on yet another diplomatic mission. They’re an (in)famous presence in Federation politics, so really, everyone should know what to expect from them. If you bug their rooms you deserve what you see and hear.

Enjoy canon level “diplomacy,” the eternal mediocrity of conference centers, and lighthearted middle aged sex.

My thoughts: this is DELIGHTFUL and I adore it. Old married Spirk has become one of my favorite things to read lately and this nails it.

Highlights: the way they banter and laugh during sex. They’re so comfortable and happy together, it’s lovely.

The recitation of names by Moreta1848@jennelikejennay

Summary:

Two hundred crew members died in the attack on the USS Farragut by a sentient cloud creature. Now the ship has to limp home with traumatized survivors and a borrowed crew. Lieutenant James T. Kirk is doing the worst of anyone, but he won't admit why and doesn't want help.

One of the borrowed crew is Lieutenant Commander Spock. He feels a strange magnetism toward the troubled lieutenant, but the chain of command and his duty to the ship must always come first.

My thoughts: I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the idea of the recitation of names. It’s a beautiful way to grieve, and having Kirk and Spock do it together here is such a moving way for them to get to know each other.

Highlights: unplanned roommates, a lot of feelings about therapy/healing, just a lot of FEELINGS.

the yeomen of the garden (and laundry) by @cicaklah

Summary:

“So you and El-Tee Kirk?” Greig said as Spock came to collect his clothing again after yet another incident. “Is something going on there?”

Spock just blinks. “Which Kirk brother are you referring to?”

Greig shrugs. “I didn’t know there was more than one of them.”

Spock nods. “I am not in a relationship with Sam Kirk, if that is what you are asking.”

Greig gives him the finger-phasers. “Oh cool, cool, that's what I thought. Sweet. Tell your buddy to get better okay? His chest must be so raw after everything he’s been through to damage so many tops.”

My thoughts: this whole series has been a blast to read, but this is probably the one that has stuck in my head the most. There’s something about seeing what other people are up to on The Enterprise that hits me in the right way, and I love the laundry guy here.

Highlights: the garden, laundry workers having all the best gossip

K'diwa: A Steamy Novel of Interspecies Romance, by Jim Kirk by branwyn

Summary:

Jim wrote a romance novel just to prove he could. Then someone leaked it on the public Starfleet server, and suddenly his embarrassingly smutty and sentimental Human/Vulcan love story is all over campus. Luckily for Jim, no one knows that he’s the author. Unluckily for Jim, someone forwarded the novel to the staff of the Vulcan embassy. Now, every Vulcan in San Francisco is reassessing the logical merits of taking Human bondmates.

Spock reads a Human/Vulcan romance novel because he can hardly avoid it. Suddenly, he is consumed by the need to locate the author, ascertain their wellbeing, and instruct them in the way of Vulcan mating bonds. Luckily for Spock, it doesn't take long to identify the author as Jim Kirk. Unluckily for Spock, Jim is unconscious and surrounded by interested Vulcans who also read the book.

My thoughts: this was so fun to read! I love Jim writing a romance novel, I love how they set up all his friends at the Academy, and I love Spock falling in love with him through reading his work.

Highlights: all the Vulcan culture stuff was interesting, and I really love Gaila in this one.

[invivoinsomnium]

If I was to get you pregnant I'd have been watchung you for weeks first to make sure your are perfect to carry my seed and you are. I wait for the perfect time following you home on a dark street covering your head hushing you "Scream and you'll regret it" I whisper in your ear knocking you out and throwing you in the back of my car.

When you wake up you curled up all cosy in what looks like your bedroom thinking it was a dream until you go to sit up and realise you are chained to the bed. I walk in sitting next to you "Good morning Hun I wanted to make sure you'd feel comfy in here I hope I got the details right"

I lean over kissing your neck "I mean you are just perfect to be carrying my babies" I push you back down a bit more not listening to any protests just talking quietly "You're gonna get so big and heavy. Imagine nine months from now the agony you'll be in" I chuckle pulling my sweats down you realise you don't have any clothes covering your bottom half.

I slip myself in groaning "Fuck" I mutter "Your so tight it's gonna be difficult for you huh" I roll my hips stroking your hair "Pretty girl gonna give my suck pretty babies" I hold your hips down not giving you a second to adjust pounding into you straight away "You are never leaving" I whisper "You are mine until you stop giving me babies"

I grunt biting your neck gently "Mine" I growl. It doesn't take long for me to have cum inside you about 7 times your stomach bulging as I plug you up untying your arms as you lay there pathetically "Fighting won't do you any good you won't be able to escape it'll just end up worse for you" I take you to the bathroom your ankles tied together. I clean you up kissing your head feeding you forcing you if I have to.

This was a nightly routine until a few weeks later I make you take a pregnancy test waiting for the timer I flip it over a very strong positive line. I smirk hugging your waist "You're gonna have my babies" I laugh.

A few months later you were already huge bump big and round a Dr walks in ignoring your pleas for help preforming and ultrasound with a chuckle "Oh look at that 5 babies that's gonna hurt" he teased taking some blood to check and checking you over.I smirk sitting down "Told you hun"

When they start moving it torture so when you feel the first contraction you instantly break into tears begging me to get the Dr. I laugh "And tuin your body with those scars no no you're gonna push these babies out one by one" I rub your thighs "I'll be right here I promise" I rub your belly through contractions pushing gently as you bare down crying out feeling out first babies head crowing against your right little hole. I slap your pussy gently "Push harder"

I love this anon; the kidnapping, the breeding against my will, the pregnancy, the doctor ignoring me and the birth. I'll admit, the only thing I'm not a fan of is the five babies, I'm more one large single or twins, at a push triplets. Still love how this was written.

Waking up disoriented, with no idea of what has happened. The situation would be made worse from how you're talking to me, I don't know you and yet theree's a small spark of recognition, maybe I've passed you on the street once or twice.

It doesn't matter how many times you tell me fighting is inevitable, I still fight you, I will always fight you. Every day when I feel your seed bathe my unprotected womb I pray for it not to take, and for the first few weeks, I think my prayers have been answered until you force me to take a test. Until that little plus sign appears after an eternity. I burst out into tears while you cheer in delight knowing that you've successfully bred me.

For the first few months I hoped that it was a false negative but as time moved on I could see my body starting to change, see my belly swell outwards, feel sensativity in my breasts, see the way parts of my would smell and lets not forget the morning sickness and fatigue.

When the doctor first arrives, I do my best to beg for his help in escaping this nightmare, I don't want to have your offpsring. He merely ignores me and the sickening realisation hits me, he knows exactly what you're doing and doesn't care. He gets paid after all.

I try to ignore the ultrasound, try to break free of my bonds, but when I hear the watery whooshing noise, I know something isn't right. It's the doctor that confirms it as he points to the screen, announcing that I'm carrying quintuplets.

Their movements steal my breath away and brings me to my kness. They're so fucking active, though they become worse when you touch my belly and speak to them. Hopes of escaping dwindle, especially when within the last month of my pregnancy I find myself bedridden. Each day brings me closer and closer to the birth and I fear it. I never wanted to be pregnant, I'm not maternal at all. When the first contraction hits its like nothing I've ever felt before. "Oh fuck, I'm not ready for this," I pant, shaking my head in denail. I can feel it, the first head pressing down upon my cervix.

I scream in pain, beg you to bring the doctor here or let me go to a hospital but your adament I do this naturally. I fight back when you promise to be here for me and that ends up with my hands being restrained as you position yourself between my spread thighs. For hours I labour, twisting and turning, toes curling as my muscles tighten and my belly dips inwards. I scream, beg and threat, even try to fight the urge to push but in the end I obey your orders and my body's demand. I can feel the head of the first as it slips into my birth canal, stretching me as I bear down, desperate to be free. What's worse is knowing that when I've finally delivered this one, I will still have four more to bring into the world.

[roo-roo-roo]

Hi, this is my first time making a request and I'm a little nervous. English is not my first language so if I am wrong I apologize.

Esto puede ser bastante largo. Me preguntaba si podrías escribir la reacción de los líderes del dormitorio, Floyd y Rook, Romántica, pero si te gusta Platónico, eso también es perfecto. sobre una lectora que es una estrella, la lectora fue creada en un universo donde las estrellas son seres adorados desde que nacen, la lectora que se cansa de ser adorada todo el tiempo entonces sale al mundo (galaxia), a experimentar los diferentes tipos de lugares, otras galaxias, planetas, etc. (el lector puede viajar a donde quiera cuando quiera, y este tipo de estrellas pueden copiar cualquier cosa, ya sea voz, apariencia, poderes, etc.), el lector llega a un retorcido país de las maravillas. de curiosidad. La lectora usa pronombres femeninos, es alguien de baja estatura, como todas las estrellas sus ojos tienen estrellas jsjskd, ojos morados, se inclina más por gordita en forma de reloj de arena, cabello negro y como es estrella puede que también lo tenga muchos años de edad (entre 10 mil o 5 mil).

Mi explicación es bastante larga, me emocioné a mitad del pedido jdakdk. Espero que te sientas cómodo con esa petición.

A Prefect Who Came From The Stars

Dorm Leaders, Floyd, Rook x Female!Reader

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

TW: none

Hello, Prefect! Thank you for this lovely request! I absolutely love your idea and I thank the Sevens that translators exist! I would definitely miss out on such a cool prompt. Despite my creative drive, I had to split this one into three parts because I fear that Tumblr won't be able to handle extremely long posts. Not to mention, I have an upcoming midterms exam tomorrow (oh my...). Thus, I hope this will satiate your excitement for even just a moment. I will update the post with links once I upload more.

❝ 𝓡𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼 ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

Heartslabyul was just as lively as ever. Another unbirthday celebration was organized at the dorm, this time in style. Pastry towers were meticulously put on enormous plates, and dessert containers resembled pyramids displaying a variety of items. As the breeze caresses your black hair, you immediately inhale the aroma of fresh roses. Following Riddle's overblot, the dorm got a little less rigid. However, this does not excuse anyone from accountability.

"Ace! I strongly advise you to stop this madness immediately!" Despite his petite stature, the inhabitants of his dorm dreaded the housewarden of Heartslabyul. “Oh, c’mon Riddle! It’s just a little frosting. The world isn’t ending now, is it?” Except for one, that is… 

Ace struggled to respond as he crumbled in fits of laughter along with Grim. Apparently, the first-year student decided that it would be fun to fling a spoonful of cake frost. Not at Riddle. No.  Ace wouldn’t do that on his own volition. It was supposed to be for Deuce, but he missed the mark by a long shot. Riddle breathed deeply, refusing to debate with rage. One hand was gripping the armrest of his luxurious chair, while the other rubbed the bridge of his nose. A small giggle escapes your lips as you reach for a napkin to delicately wipe the icing off his cheek. “It’s alright Riddle, there’s no need for you to be upset. Today is a wonderful day to have fun, wouldn’t you agree?” Riddle remained frozen on his chair. Hearing your exquisite voice was a new kind of dessert that Riddle enjoyed. It wasn't unusual for the two of you to chat. However, he continues to feel nervous, yet giddy when he does have a chance. “I s-suppose so…” He muttered under his breath. Wishing for your touch to last an eternity rather than a moment. 

The party went smoothly as the hours passed and it was nearing its end. Riddle had started a toast to close off the event. A new ritual right after each party where he would give thanks to everyone, emphasizing you, of course. If he could, he would spend hours pouring his heart out for you, and only you. But we all know that he would never admit that out loud. Unless you bat your pretty star eyes at him… 

“Miss Y/n, will it be alright to request some of your time before you go? I… I have something that I wish to show you.” You turn around to see Riddle extending his hand for you to take. The party ended a while ago, yet you were still here. Trey had asked for your assistance with a few things while he persuaded Grim to join Deuce and Ace on the way back to Ramshackle. Cater was apparently busy with a few things, so you accepted. Little did you know, Trey caught wind of what was going on between you and the housewarden. His best friend was easy for him to read, after all. “Why, of course.” You agreed and placed your hand on his, “you wouldn’t mind if I joined Riddle, right Trey?” Turning back, you see Trey shaking his head. “No! Not at all. You two have fun while I finish things up.” He nods to both of you, proud of his choice to keep you busy enough for his friend to gather some courage. 

Riddle then leads you into the dorm, meandering through the corridors and up the stairs. You saw something in the way he held you. Always so gentle, always so elegant. It was as if he made sure you didn't shatter like a glass ornament. The idea of his delicate touch never leaving your form made your heart skip a beat. It was different from the worship that you received throughout your life. You both end your journey on a balcony that oversees the vast maze they had. As you step out and lean on the railings, golden hues envelop your form. The sun began to set right in time for Riddle to see this picturesque moment. Again, he was frozen, observing you from behind. The breeze that came next made the scene even more immaculate. 

“Oh, it’s getting a bit cold. The view here is amazing though! Do you often spend teatime here? Because if I were you, I would.” You wrap your arms around yourself to remain warm until you feel another pair embrace you. “Yes… I do. Though, I wish I had someone like you to keep me company.” Riddle whispered. His voice had a wisp of melancholy and uncertainty. Hoping that you were fine with him giving into his desires for a moment. Of course, you were. You were doing everything it took not to melt him into nothing as your body started to heat up in embarrassment. Burying his doubts, you turn around in his embrace and cup his face with both your hands despite being flustered. There was no need for words between the two of you. All that was left were hidden feelings to be felt. And it was all washed away with relief as he kissed you for the first time.

“My apologies. You were just… simply irresistible.”

*Click* *Snap*

“This is like- sooo Magicam worthy! #Couplegoals!”

❝ 𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓪 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓻 ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

“Where the hell is he?!”

Scratching his head, Ruggie looked lost in Night Raven’s botanical garden. Sure, he had visited the garden multiple times, however, he had been here for quite a while. Struggling to find what he was looking for, or who he was looking for. “I’m sure he was here, he did inform me a while ago before class started.” You replied, pushing a few leaves aside as you helped Ruggie search for the missing royal. You and Leona were… a case yet to be solved. You see, when you first came to Twisted Wonderland, Leona was skeptical. Your scent was different from the others. He first thought that you were some type of fae just like Malleus, but the idea wasn’t enough for him to settle with. You were something more, something he couldn’t understand. Thus, staying away from you was the best option in his mind. While the others would praise you and flock to your energy, he would stay behind and scoff at them. He didn’t have the energy to deal with you. He’s got other things on his plate.

You, on the other hand, were intrigued. He obviously wasn’t like the rest and that made you want to know more about him. So, you followed him around like a second tail. Always seeking him out, curious as to why he would avoid you. You would continue your search for an answer by helping Ruggie bring him food. Even going as far as to help him in his studies despite his reluctance. Slowly, Leona would lower his guard down just a smidge. He would still question you and your advances, but he would never admit that your company would make his day a little more interesting.

As you continue to look for Leona, Ruggie has gone to the other side of the garden. He suggested that splitting up would make the search faster before the next class starts. Your starry eyes dart everywhere as you walk around. Suddenly, a loud yelp caught you off. Making you flinch and look down. “What the hell?! By the Sevens, Herbivore! Do the stars in your eyes make you blind or what?!” Leona growled, sitting up from the patch of grass he was lying on. Apparently, it looks like you’ve stepped on his tail by accident. “Oh! Oh no… I’m so sorry Leona! I swear it wasn’t my intention-” “Save it. What do you want from me? I’ve been hearing you scream and run around the place like an idiot.” He cut you off, questioning you with a groan.

Did he hear you all this time? If so, why didn’t he bother to respond? Sometimes you think about how insufferable the young royal is. You’ll never say that out loud though. He might throw you off a cliff back at Savanaclaw. He’s strong enough to do it with one hand if he wishes despite your stature. “M-Me and Ruggie were looking for you. He brought you lunch as you requested. I wanted to help him out because he looked stressed today.” You mumbled, shifting in place as Leona glared daggers at you. He was irritated. He really was, but he couldn’t help himself from caving in. You were annoying but cute. “Oh? Were you really? It seems that you’ve been using that damn excuse every time you want to see me.”

Ah… You’re on your own with this one, Prefect.

“N-No I… That’s not-” You gave out a little squeal as Leona yanked you towards him before you could complete your statement. Your head is now resting on his chest, as he reclines on the patch of grass. “Don’t test my patience, Herbivore. You’ve been taking a lot out of my naps, so you owe me.” Grumbling under his breath, he shifted and faced you. For the first time, he was able to take every part of you in. With your dark hair sparkling even under the shade and your glowing eyes, he kinda gets the appeal now. He tucked a strand behind your ear, observing you closely. Gliding his thumb across your soft lips.

“Y/n...”

“Yes, Leona?”

“You're starting to look a bug the more you stare at me with those big eyes of yours.”

“Excuse me?!”

While the two of you lay and joke around on the grass, Ruggie ends up munching on the sandwich that was meant for Leona while watching the scene in front of him. He had just found the two of you but decided that it would be best to keep some distance. Not only because Leona was enjoying himself for the first time in a long while, but it was also because he was feeling a bit petty towards the both of you. So what? You’re not gonna tell him that you found Leona already? Ruggie thought you were here to help him. Now, he thinks that it would be best for Leona to starve a little. He’s pretty sure that the lazy royal already had his fill by having you alone.

❝ 𝓐𝔃𝓾𝓵 𝓐𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓸 ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

“Ah! Miss Y/n! Such a delight to have you here at the lounge again.”

Greeting you with a bow, Azul delicately placed a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. You were a bit wary of Azul even after the fiasco you were dragged into by Ace and Deuce.  Despite your adversity, the manager of Mostro Lounge would always make a statement with his “warm” welcomes. “ Come. Let us continue our meeting in my office.” Before you could protest, Azul swiftly whisked you away. His hand rests on the lower part of your back while the other holds yours. It was like he was waltzing you through the hallways. Despite the caveats that come when one interacts with him, he does have that charm. I mean, it does help with the business, right Prefect?

“There you go~ Is the seat to your liking? I was able to redecorate the place a few days ago. I made sure to choose something soft enough for your figure. It would be a shame to provide the bare minimum for such a being like you~” Azul muses as he circles the large desk he has after guiding you to your seat. “And what do you have up your sleeve this time, Ashengrotto? I’m assuming you didn’t call me for nothing, no?” You quirked a brow. It was unusual for the manager to waste the minutes that passed by. He would always make sure that business meetings would stay short and straight to the point. Time is money after all. Unless… this isn’t about business.

“Hmm? Is it strange for me to ask for your company without anything in return?” He hummed. His gaze was focused on the papers that he was signing, paying no mind to your reaction. Though, he would pay the Seven all of his money to give him an eternity for him to spend on you. “Yes, it is. The others would always tell me that you like things to be snappy, yeah?” Crossing your arms, you lean back and squint. His eyes shift to your celestial ones, narrowing as he smiles even more. He always thought of how funny it was that a small being like you could get all feisty. The contrast between your heavenly aura and tone of voice is what he loved about you ever since you two met. The moment made it seem like sparks were flying around him. Azul never would've realized how much he needed you if Jade hadn't pointed out how his habits have changed. He even wanted to present you with a contract, but ultimately, he decided against it.

"My dear… As much as I want to continue my teasing, I want you to know that I genuinely adore your presence. Albeit your wary behavior, I truly believe that I am the best version of myself whenever you're here." He sighed, leaning over his desk and resting his cheek on the palm of his hand. "Azul… you don't even know anything about me." "Then let me." He quickly responded, getting up from his seat. He made his way to you, offering his hand right after taking off his gloves. With hesitance, you placed your soft hands on his. It was warm, you thought. You realized that this was the first time Azul had shown a piece of his true self. His glasses no longer carry a glint of his sinister intentions like they used to. It was just Azul behind them.

"Let me know you. Let me know what you want—what you need. You have plagued my mind ever since we met and it hasn't gotten any easier for me. You keep me awake at night and bring my thoughts somewhere else during the day. What would it take for you to tell me what and who you are?" Azul breathed deeply, wishing that he wasn't so sensitive when it came to his feelings. He always wanted to pour his heart out, but he realized that you constantly avoided praise from your peers. He didn't want to drive you away any further. That would do no good to his heart.

He wraps an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to his body. Your plush figure was enough for him to feel a little lightheaded. You tried to think of an appropriate response while clinging to his suit. "Do you have any other meetings today? I'm afraid it would take a while for me to tell you my story." You fidget, earning a breathless chuckle from Azul. "There is nothing for you to worry about. You have me for the rest of the day~" 

Rather, the rest of his life if the Seven would let him.

"Ah! There you are, Azul. We just saw the Prefect leave the lounge-" Jade stopped in his tracks with Floyd in tow. Both of the twins stare at their boss, a teasing grin slowly etched its way on both of their faces. "Hmm? What's the matter with you two? Wha- Hey! You better stop that Floyd or else I'll cut off this week's pay!" Floyd giggled in response. "You got something on your cheek there, boss!" He continued to smush Azul's face to get a closer look. Azul groaned in disdain, trying to pry the twin's hands off. "I was about to ask you if everything had gone smoothly, but it seems that you have already answered my question." Jade teased, covering up his grin. "What- Arg! What do you mean?!"

Turns out, you wore some tinted lip gloss and it left quite an impression on Azul.

╰─▸ ❝ cafekitsune owns all of the banners except the gif banners, which were created by me. Please check them out!

╰─▸ ❝ Hope you enjoyed reading, Prefect!

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Ikemen Villains - Elbert Greetia

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors. Not 100% accurate.

TW: Slightly Suggestive

On a beautiful sunny day, we had our wedding ceremony in a serene seaside church.

Kate: “Elbert, wait一nnn!”

As soon as we entered our room after the ceremony, he hugged me and took my lips.

Still in my wedding dress, he pinned me to the wall like a butterfly specimen, and all I could do was accept the sudden rush of sweet stimulation he was giving me.

Elbert: “I won’t wait.”

Kate: “Ah...”

He pressed his lips to my throat, bit my neck, and let his tongue wander, leaving behind marks to carve the proof of his obsession.

(Elbert...)

It makes me happy to receive his unusually intense obsession.

His kindness, the deep void in his chest, and the sins he carries一I have fallen in love with all of it.

Elbert: “I almost crushed all the eyes that were looking at you during the ceremony.”

He whispered, tracing my neck with his lips as if admiring the pulsating heartbeat beneath my delicate skin.

Kate: “Ngh...ahh...”

A sweet numbness rushed through me, causing my legs to feel weak.

He stared at my reaction with his blue eyes, and the breath that escaped from his lips felt warm as it brushed against my chest.

Elbert: “Your breath, heartbeat, warmth, eyes, voice, and everything else一I won’t let anyone take it away, Kate.”

The pained, loving sound in his voice made my heart ache.

Kate: "Elbert..."

Elbert: "No, I won't let go."

Kate: "You don't have to let go. It's okay."

Kate: "I want to hold you too."

Elbert: "........."

Elbert's hand, holding my wrist in place, suddenly loosened.

I put my free arms around his back and hugged him tightly.

Kate: "It's okay."

Kate: "Carve yourself more into me."

Even if we exchanged vows of eternal love, our bodies and hearts remained separate.

We could never truly become one.

That's why we could suffer, struggle, and love each other like this.

Kate: "Since we can't become one, please give me all of you instead."

Elbert: "Nn..."

He rubbed his forehead against my shoulder.

Elbert: "I'm sorry. Even if I know it may hurt you, I can't stop myself."

Elbert: "I apologize in advance."

Kate: "There's something romantic about an empty church."

The church at midnight was quiet and still, with a blue glow that made it seem as if time had stopped.

In the silence, only the sounds we made reverberated.

Elbert: "Kate, turn around a little."

Kate: "Like this?"

Elbert: "Your veil is inside out."

He quickly fixed my veil.

Kate: "Mn..."

A sigh escaped my lips as his fingers grazed my skin, still lingering with a sweet afterglow.

I wore my disheveled wedding dress and came here to have our wedding ceremony again with just the two of us.

Kate: "Thank you. Do I look beautiful now?"

Elbert: "Yes."

Elbert: "You're the most beautiful bride in the world."

His eyes, like the sea, still have a faintly dark and unfathomable color, and his gaze captivated me, never letting me go.

Elbert: "Kate."

He gently lifted my veil and carefully cupped my cheek.

Elbert: "I want a pledge that no one else has heard."

Elbert: "I want a kiss that no one else sees."

Elbert: "I want something you'll only give me."

My heart trembled sweetly at his thirsty plea.

His greedy, loving wish was the reason for this second ceremony.

Kate: "I'm happy, Elbert."

(I want to love you by accepting all your wishes and desires, whatever they may be.)

Kate: "I vow to love you at all times, even when these lips have stopped breathing."

Kate: "Always and forever."

Elbert: "Kate."

Whispering my vows like a secret, I closed my eyes, and his lustful kisses fell on my lips.

Kate: "Nn..."

My entire body trembled with the joy of being able to accept it.

Elbert: "I love you, Kate."

Elbert: "I want all of you so bad it's driving me crazy."

His crazy obsession entangled my heart.

Elbert: "Even if one day I really do go crazy, I will still always love you."

I smiled back at his painful and happy pledge, and his arms hugged me tightly as if to hide me from the world.

(I want to be trapped forever.)

In this painful yet blissful embrace.

Part 1┆Part 2┆Premium End

[mattastr0phic]

Heya! Been stalking your profile for a few weeks now and I'm pretty sure I've scrolled through the entirety of the Clef, Myriad, and Myricle tags respectively like 50 times now lol. Absolutely loving reading the absolution storyline, do you have plans to make another ao3-based trinket of lore? (I think your writing is lovely /vpos) or are you mostly sticking to art/tumblr as a medium? Also, as an author I am really curious as to how the entirety of the gluttony stage in Absolution Canon worked? How does one go from Cannibalism -> Marriage fraud?

Thanks so much! I'm really glad you like the Absolution timeline and it means a lot to me that you've gone through so much of it! I do want to eventually be able to write more for it as there's already a lot laid out as an outline, but it's difficult for me to find motivation to do so. I don't have a lot of confidence in it, but that's also why I appreciate others' passion for my writing despite that! I may practice with comics before coming back to regular writing since it's something I have a better hold on.

As for Level Gluttony, it's a period in which Ukulele and Myriad discover cannibalism as an act of love for each other. Unable to actually foster a relationship they'd see as romantic (as Ukulele can't even fathom himself deserving love, and the Foundation would use it to manipulate them), it's as close as they consciously want to be, locked in an obsessive loop of indulgent death and consumption. Despite that, their bond only grows, and they plan to escape the Foundation. They'd reached a point which they feel together they're powerful enough to rip away from it. But they're found out, and forcibly retired from fieldwork.

They're separated as researchers, with Ukulele taking more time to be assimilated into a less violent job, forced to leave host to Clef due to Foundation pressures. They only meet again as senior researchers, long after their field agent days, and have to catch up in their new roles. It's strange at first to Myriad, as Clef isn't Ukulele and doesn't remember everything, but soon finds the same roots within them - they are both eternal, and maybe, together, the rest of time won't be so bad.

[archiveikemen]

'Black Wedding' Story Event: Chapter 1

William's Route

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

On a peaceful early afternoon, long fingers danced across the black and white keys on the piano.

(... It sounds so beautiful. I love listening to Will play the piano.)

While I was captivated by the beautiful tune, my lover, the King of Self-Righteousness, spoke in a way that sounded like he was singing along to the tunes he played on the piano.

William: Kate, why don’t you marry me?

Kate: …

(Me and William. Married?)

The words that came from those shapely lips were so sudden that my words caught in my throat.

William: Oya, did I just get rejected?

Kate: T—

Kate: That’s not what I mean!

William: Hmm?

Kate: I was just surprised by how sudden it was…

(I think my heart nearly stopped beating…)

I placed my hand over my heart that was still going crazy, William looked at me and laughed.

William: Then we’ll wait till you’ve calmed down from the surprise.

(Getting married to William.)

I felt like I had been misled by those words that came out of his mouth…

(William loves freedom, I can’t believe he proposed the idea of marriage…)

Kate: Is there a reason for why you said that all of a sudden?

William: You’re as smart as ever.

William: While conducting investigations with Victor, we got some information on an organisation named “Amour”.

William: They’re based in a church, and claim to be able to “make love last for eternity”...

William: There have been several cases where the couples who approached that church in search of eternal love never returned.

Kate: … They never returned? Could it be…

William: It’s not that they never returned, but rather they can’t. They've probably been killed.

(What the…)

William: The killer is the head of the organisation, the Founder.

Kate: Why would he take those innocent lives…?

William: I wonder…?

(William definitely knows why.)

He shrugged his shoulders and didn't say a thing, the look in his eyes told me “if you want to know, find out for yourself”.

(Of course… that’s the plan.)

Will smiled in response to that implicit murmur and narrowed his eyes.

Kate: Whatever his reason may be, it’s Crown’s duty to condemn evil with evil, so that there won't be any more victims.

Kate: And as a fairytale writer… it’s my duty to write that down in the records.

William: Yes. That’s my lovely little robin.

His smile was so charming and uplifting.

(Whenever he looks at me like this, I feel like I can accomplish anything.)

He was the only person in this world who could make me feel that way.

Kate: So what does us getting married have to do with punishing Amour for their sins?

William: Amour holds weddings as the ceremony to grant couples eternal love.

William: And it appears that the Founder, who is the root of the problem, will only show himself then.

William: He’s so thorough in hiding, it’s clear that he has a guilty conscience.

Kate: So you're saying that we’ll infiltrate the organisation and have our “wedding”...

Kate: Then lure the Founder out?

William: That’s right. … Hearing the details might change your mind.

Kate: Huh…?

Will narrowed his eyes and twirled my hair around his finger.

William: The kiss of oath might turn into a bloodbath.

William: If having an upright wedding is your dream, it’s still not too late to turn back.

Will smiled while offering me an escape route.

(In the past, the message he’s trying to convey would’ve really been “you can do as you please”.)

(But now, perhaps…)

(He just wants to hear me tell him myself what I want.)

This selfish king with red eyes enjoyed loving my desires.

Kate: Of course I won’t turn back. I want to have that wedding ceremony with you.

Kate: Even if we get drenched in blood… that would be wonderful because it’d be a kiss of oath to never forget.

Will smiled happily and kissed the locks of hair he was fidgeting with.

William: … Then it’s decided.

…

While getting myself ready for our mission, I smiled as I thought back to what happened earlier.

(I never expected to ever hear Will ask me “will you marry me?”)

The thought of having a wedding ceremony was making me nervous, even though it was a pretend one.

And then it hit me.

(This… this is the first time I’ve been conscious about the possibility of marrying Will.)

I loved him so much that I was willing to give him my everything, both my body and soul.

(Maybe it’s because we’ve had many much more important things to be concerned about?)

He was destined to be destroyed one day.

As someone who loved him, I was bound to be consumed by that fate as long as I stayed by his side.

I was desperate to accept that reality, love each other, and remain by his side until the day I died.

(But what if we were to have a real wedding…?)

A wedding was a sacred ceremony for a couple to vow their love to each other.

For us, who have chosen to live in the darkness — who and what do we vow to?

…

Kate: … This church is beautiful…

The organisation was based in a church located outside of London.

The air of tranquillity made it feel as if it was a painting.

(I can’t believe people are being killed here…)

William: A dangerous organisation that reeks of blood, and having a pretend wedding with a villain…

William: … A rather pervasive situation you’re in. How are you feeling?

Kate: Honestly, I’m feeling nervous… but I’m also a little excited.

Kate: Of course, I’ll be careful not to put you in danger.

William: Fufu, my knight is still going strong today.

Kate: Kya…

He put his arm around my waist and pulled me to him like we were in a dance.

William: Like this, let’s show off to our hearts content.

Kate: Show off… show what off?

William: That we’re in love with each other.

William: Oh, I didn't tell you? Not everyone can hold their wedding here.

William: The followers of Amour have to acknowledge that we “truly love each other”.

William: We can’t just have a wedding.

Kate: So does that mean… our mission is a failure if we don't get acknowledged as lovers?

Will gave me an affirmative smile.

Kate: Then… we should flirt as much as we want… right?

(Flirting in front of others… that’s kind of embarrassing.)

(It’s to be able to spend time with Will while on a mission.)

William: Just do what you always do.

William: There won’t be any problems as long as you keep showing how adorable you are with your bright red whenever I hug you like this, Kate.

Kate: …!?

Will gave me a quick peck and let go of me.

William: Let’s go.

Kate: A-Alright…

(Will my heart… survive till the end of this mission?)

…

Cultist: Thank you very much for coming to our church.

Upon arriving at the chapel, we were greeted by several cultists dressed in white.

At first glance, they appeared good-hearted because of their calm smiles.

(But… all of their eyes aren't smiling. It looks as if their smiles are plastered onto their faces.)

According to Will, the main culprit who was doing the killings was the Founder.

Here, the Founder’s orders were absolute, and the cultists seemed to be blindly following them.

Cultist: So the two of you are looking to hold your wedding here.

William: Yes. I want to take her freedom away, so that my adorable lover can never fly away from me ever.

William winked.

My heart pounded hard upon hearing those words that William would never say, even if he really considered that.

(You're saying that sort of thing in this situation whereby there's no telling what’s true or false… that's not fair.)

Kate: I… I want to devote my entire life to him.

Kate: And… I want all of his “love”.

(What I just said is the truth, Will.)

William: …

As I spoke while looking into Will’s eyes, I saw his gaze grow passionate.

(Ah…)

It wasn’t an act, that gaze expressed his genuine love for me.

William: You should be more selfish, my bride.

[hiorisgf]

##POV: YOU BECAME THE SECOND LEAD YOU WISHED YOU DIDN'T BECOME

↪🤡🤡🤡 clown behavior frfr/Them as second male leads in a romance manga

↪ft. Isagi, Hiori, Chigiri

↪What's on your mind: HOW DO I DRAW OMG HELP ME also teach me how to write angst fics whilst teaching me how to draw sad bunny too hehe

Isagi Yoichi 

As your childhood friend who's always secretly pined for you

Isagi Yoichi, for the longest time, had always loved you. From the first meeting—to the the day you walk down the aisle to marry the man you love. The man that would never be him. And maybe even longer than that. Isagi is full of love he wants to give you and yet can't. Because it won't be him you'll choose, because it won't be him who'll be your endgame.

Feelings unsuited for someone who's supposed to be just a friend is the kind of feelings Isagi Yoichi holds for you. It's shameful, saddening, disappointing to know that despite being the one who stuck by your side the most—it won't be him you'll pick in the end.

But oddly enough the thought no longer pained him as much as before.

Maybe it's because he's already long accepted the fact that you won't glance his way for even a split second and reciprocate this feelings he's held within for so long. Maybe it's because Isagi tries to busy himself with focusing more time on soccer. Either way, the thought no longer hurted as much as it would have before.

But Isagi hates it, the fact that he's accepted the fact that he'd only stay as your friend for all eternity as easily as he did. His love seemed weak, ingenuine, when it was anything but that. But when he sees you look at someone the same way he looks at you—with hearts and pure, unadultarated love in the eyes of yours he adores most; he's forced to do nothing but bite his tongue and swallow the bitter pill of truth.

It's times like this Isagi wishes he wasn't such a down-to-earth kind of man. Because even in his wildest dreams, he can't imagine a parallel universe where it'd be him you'd pick out of the dozen that catched your interest. He can't imagine a future where it'd be him standing by the altar—wearing a ring similar to yours. Because he knows, because he's fully aware of the situation he's in and the way you view him. He wishes he could be a bit illogical, daydreaming of a future where it was him whom recueved your words of love, the one who'd feel your lips press against his. But even if he wishes, prayed to the gods. He'd never experience it. In his dreamland, or in this cruel reality he's forced to live in.

And so when he sees you look happy in another's arms; he only grits his teeth and looks away. Nails digging onto his palms as he tries to stop the tears from running down his cheeks and onto the ground. Because he thinks if even only a single drop escapes, he's not sure if he'd be able to stop the tears from overflowing.

Hiori Yo

As your seatmate that's held feelings for you the longest time.

In every new year, in every new class, Hiori always seemed to be the one thing that remained consistent for you. Like some strange play of fate, the two of you were always on the same class with the same status as each other's seatmates. A status that gradually began to change and upgrade over time as the two of you spent the day together.

A smile exchanged, small talks before class starts, playing games after class, sharing notes when the other needed it. It was the things he's grown familiar to. The things he'd want to take a step further. Hiori wants more than just friendly smiles; he wants to greet you goodmorning with a kiss on the cheek, telling you sweet nothings and the ameteur poems he's composed with you in mind. He wants to tell you 'I love you' and he wants to hear the same thing from your lips and said solely to him too. 

And for a moment, Hiori thought the gods was on his side. As coincidences upon coincidences stacked up against each other, practically forcing the two of you to interact—the two of you grew closer by the end of the day. And before he's realised, he's fallen deep inlove to the point of no return.

And then suddenly the gods no longer stayed on his side anymore.

Conversations cut short, ending with only a simple 'bye'. A conversation revolving around another person you liked, a dorky smile on your lips as you utter their name with nothing but adoration. It twists and turns his chest in a way it hurts, it's unlike the butterflies he's felt that'd flutter around as he talks to you. It's painful, bittersweet, and heavy. Something Hiori finds unpleasant to feel. 

But regardless, he continues to love you the same way he does before he's felt this heavy feelings that clouds his mind and leaves him sour.

It was a mistake.

A sentence. 'I love you'. The three words he's lomged to hear, but you don't say it to him. But to the one you've been speaking off, the one whom you've cut off your times with him for. A kiss to the lips but it isn't him you're sharing your first kiss with. 

Despair. A emotion that is overflowing as he holds the now crumpled letter in his hand. Ah. Why are the gods so cruel?

Hyoma Chigiri 

As your first love who took too long to realize his feelings

Regret. It was the one thing that remained constant in his life eversince the injure of his leg. Even if he's solved the regret he's felt regarding his leg—another would pop up and keep him from being truly happy. This time, it seems, it was the fact he didn't treat you better when he was given the chance to. 

The color grey fills his world, and he drowns in a deep sea of regret as he remembers the times you've trued to break his barriers and get close. Wincing when he remembers the times he's pushed you away and build his walls a ten times stronger than before. He wishes he didn't treat you as harshlt as he did.

Maybe if he didn't, you'd still by his side.

Maybe you'd even be his lover by now if he just learned to appreciate the many things you did for him. Maybe if he wasn't so busy wallowing himself in pity and actually made the effort to get to know you better, to spend more time with you when you still felt the spark of first love with him;then maybe a future where the two of you existed together as lovers and leave this world as spouses whom died together would have existed.

It's painful. Thinking of the many possible outcomes tht would've come if he had just appreciated you a bit sooner—a bit faster than now. And it pains him even more knowing those outcomes would now only remain hypothetical, never having the chance to come true now that he's wasted the chance and took your affections for granted.

Hours and days he's spent wishing he could turn back the hands of the clock and return back to the past where you still looked at him with love so pure he swears he could faint. Maybe then, he'd actually manage to make one of the many outcomes he's dreamed of and turn it into a reality where he'd exist comfortably and happily in. Even if he didn't belong.

But he wasn't god and turning back tine was humanly impossible. So now, he's forced to face the outcome of his stupid—idiotic actions from before. Lamenting the fact he's done you so wrong for personal reasons that were rather stupid.

[dia-souls]

Could I request a reaction from the Mukami and Tsukinami brothers? How would they react to finding out that Karlheinz has been reversing time? Yui falls in love with them, but Karl wants her to choose one of his sons as Adam. So, he keeps reversing time until eventually she does choose one of the Sakamaki brothers and doesn't remember them.

TW: Suicide, Blood mentioned, Yandere Themes

🔮 Karlheinz Reversing Time 🔮

🌹 _____________________________________ 🌹

📓 Ruki Mukami 📓

I can't believe it. Karlheinz-sama, I had a special devotion to you. I can't believe that you would do this to me. I owe you and if I am alive now it is because of you. But my life until now, although it wasn't possible without you, was completely meaningless to me. Yui was the only one who made me live again. I can't believe that you would take away from me someone whom I adored with all my heart. Perhaps this was my punishment for disobeying your order. But this is really cruel.

Ruki always owed his life to Karlheinz.

With the arrival of Yui, Ruki's life changed. He was able to understand the mystery of life again because of his love for Yui.

Realizing that Karlheinz tried to give a fake love to Yui hurts him a lot.

Ruki adores Karlheinz more than anyone.

Realizing this makes Ruki very disappointed.

He loses his trust in the biggest person in his life.

Ruki can no longer trust Karlheinz and considers him a guilty person.

Since Ruki knows that Karlheinz might try to take Yui from him again, he tries to escape with Yui.

They will run away all their lives but they will be together.

They may live in fear and running away, but Ruki is with his lover Yui and that is enough for him to be happy.

🌹 _____________________________________ 🌹

🎤 Kou Mukami 🎤

This is not possible. Karlheinz-sama, how could you do such a thing to me? I always thought you were like our father. But you tried to take the person I love more than anyone else away from me. I knew I could never be Adam, but there was no need for Yui to forget me in order to find a new lover. We love each other. This is very cruel.

Kou always considered Karlheinz as his father.

Realizing this shocks Kou.

He loses his trust in Karlheinz and becomes very upset.

He doesn't talk to anyone for a long time, not even Yui.

Because he knows this is useless. He knows that he cannot have Yui.

At night, when everyone is asleep, Kou goes to Yui's room and looks at her while she is sleeping.

He strokes Yui's soft hair and kisses her cheek.

Kou knows that he can't love anyone more than Yui.

But he also knows that Karlheinz will never let Yui stay with him and even if Yui falls in love with him, time will go back again.

Kou kisses Yui's forehead and pulls out a silver knife and moves it towards Yui's heart.

"If we are not supposed to be together in this world, let's meet each other in another world."

The silver knife plunges into the heart of the sleeping blonde girl, and red blood spreads like red flowers on Yui's shirt.

"Fufu, I love you, my sweet M-Neko-chan. Wait for me."

Kou plunges the silver knife into his own heart and lies down next to Yui.

"Everything is getting dark. But when I am with you, despite this darkness, I can still see the blue sky."

Kou takes Yui's hand and puts her into an eternal sleep.

He closes his eyes while smiling. But it doesn't matter because his blue sky is with him and he is not alone.

���� _____________________________________ 🌹

🍅 Yuma Mukami 🍅

Haaaaaaa???? How is this possible????? It's impossible, I can't believe this. The person who gave me life is now taking away my life again by taking the dearest person in my life. No, this will not happen. I have lost my family once. I won't let ya take her away from me anymore. I will not let Yui leave me like Lucks and my family. She is my dearest person. I will not lose her in any way.

Realizing this shocks Yuma.

But he is more nervous than shocked.

Yuma has already lost his family and friend. He doesn't want to lose an important person in his life again.

Yuma vows to take care of Yui at all costs.

Yuma always knew he couldn't be Adam, but he knows that he loves Yui from the bottom of his heart.

He is willing to do anything for Yui's happiness.

But he knows that Yui is not happy with the Sakamaki brothers because it is a love that Karlheinz forced on her.

Yuma might run away with her to be with Yui.

Maybe he will find a small farm and live in it with Yui away from everyone's eyes.

He is happy as long as he is with Yui.

🌹 _____________________________________ 🌹

🗡 Azusa Mukami 🗡

No.... No..... Karlheinz-sama..... No.... Please don't take Eve from ..... me...... I.... know... .. I'm not good..... enough and I..... can't be Adam. But I love....... Eve. I love...... Yui-San. I can't..... live without her. Without her, my life...... would be terrible. Please don't...... take her from me. Please, Karlheinz-sama, don't..... do this.... to me. I can't..... live without her.

Realizing this is very disturbing to Azusa.

He loves Yui more than anyone else.

Azusa is deeply attached to Yui and cannot live without her.

The only thing on Azusa's mind is begging Karlheinz.

He doesn't resent Karlheinz because he thinks he is not good enough for Yui and Karlheinz has the right to separate Yui from him.

But Azusa can't live without Yui so he begs Karlheinz not to take Yui from him.

Azusa is very upset to find out that Yui has forgotten him and does not recognize him as her lover.

Azusa can't bear this pain and stabs himself every day.

Until one day his brothers found him covered in blood in the garden next to the roses.

Azusa is wounded, but this time the wound is not on his body. This wound is in his heart.

Azusa killed himself with a silver knife to reach his beloved Eve in another world.

🌹 _____________________________________ 🌹

🔮 Carla Tsukinami 🔮

Such a thing was expected from that old man. He is the most selfish man in the world and is ready to do anything to achieve his goals. But he doesn't know that this means declaring war with the founders. He may be the king of vampires, but I am also the king of founders. I am the king Karlheinz should never have dared to do such a thing. Yui is my queen and no one has the right to separate her from me. I will show that man what is the result of daring before the king of the founders.

Carla, as a great and proud king, does not tolerate such humiliation.

In his opinion, Karlheinz is not in a position to separate his queen from him.

Since Carla is a founder king, he has more power than Karlheinz, but because he is sick, he cannot go to war with Karlheinz.

He orders his familiars to bring Yui back to him.

Carla will start a big war against him if Karlheinz tries to separate Yui from him again.

No one has the right to separate his beloved queen from him.

🌹 _____________________________________ 🌹

🐺 Shin Tsukinami 🐺

Who does that old man think he is? He never has the right to steal from me what is mine and force her to forget me. He is so brave that he has the audacity to steal from the founders. Yui is mine and he cannot separate her from me. Nii-san will get very angry about this. This means declaring war against the founders.

Shin is a proud founder.

Upon realizing this, he becomes very angry and attacks the Sakamaki mansion with his wolves without wasting time.

He wounds the Sakamaki brothers and takes Yui back to their mansion.

Since Yui has forgotten him, Shin gets very upset.

He cannot bear the woman he loves not to remember him.

But Shin doesn't want to lose Yui.

Because Shin's behavior is a bit aggressive, Yui is afraid of him and tries to run away, that's why Shin imprisons her for a while.

Shin starts a great war against the Sakamaki brothers to avenge their father's actions.

No one has the right to separate Yui from him.

Yui is his forever.

🌹 _____________________________________ 🌹

[ruhorih4ra]

Hi ♪⁠～⁠(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠) this time I bring you angst heheh, it's a LuciferxGn!Mc and it's from Lucifer's point of view!

I'll keep my distance💙

It wasn't love at first sight. It wasn't love for a long time, I'm certain. When you appeared in front of me and looked at my eyes, afraid but fierce, confused but determined, it wasn't love back then.

That time you protected Beelzebub from me, you stood firmly on the ground, your body betrayed you, you fainted but never tried to run. “What a fool.” I thought. I called you and you came, I saw you and you saw me. It wasn't love.

You helped my family, you helped me. You didn't have to, but you did. Gratitude but not love.

The little talks about the human world, the first time I saw you genuinely smile, your laugh echoing through the dining room. You brought me coffee and food to my office. Charming, refreshing even. But it wasn't love.

You were contemplating a single rose in your hand. “Do you like flowers?” I asked, perhaps I could bring you some. “Of course! It's a shame they die too soon, isn't it?” you were holding that rose as if it were your most precious belonging, you looked at it with love and yearning, gratitude and respect, who knows why you would feel something like that for a rose. “Why are you looking at me like that?” you tilted your head and I saw my eyes reflected in yours, it was the same gaze you had a few moments ago. It was love. “Yes, it is a shame.” I replied, and I couldn’t help but berate myself. “What a fool.”

I threatened you over and over again, I could have killed you. My hands are dirty, I can see the red stains sometimes, but not roses, nothing so fragile as that.

I bought you a bouquet of roses, but it never left my office. Every day I watch them die, I see their vitality leave and their color fade. The first day their fragrance was all over the place, now I can barely smell it. They will die soon.

As you watched the flowers bloom, you murmured. “They are too beautiful and unattainable! Ugh!” you dropped your shoulders, a sigh escaped from your lips. Your soul is so pure, so strong and bright and I'm left wondering, am I worthy of you? Would I be worth enough if I were still an angel? Could I ever have the opportunity to reach you?

Your roses died and a week later you had a new bouquet. Your gaze held the same sentiment.

So I'll keep my distance from you and your smile that one day will fade, distance from your eyes whose color will vanish. Away from you, you that will die too soon.

For I won't be able to find someone like you in the next week or the next century, not in all the eternity.

Thanks for reading!

I have a peculiar love for flowers. (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

[writingwithina]

Reading makes the heart grow fonder

Author's note: I'm back with another story. Hope you guys like it. Reblogs are always appreciated and my inbox is always open if you wanna pop in and talk! Happy reading ❤

Content: Fluff. Few mentions of parental neglect and trauma in the beginning.

If there's one thing Y/n was sure of, it was that fictional characters can never hurt her in the way  real people did. Growing up in an abusive household she witnessed every terrible thing, heard every heart shattering word being said to her mother. She could not believe that the person who promised her mother a love for eternity and beyond could hurt her in such a way. So Y/n decided that she would never look for love and if it found her somehow, she would run away from it as far as possible. So far she has been lucky. Her college life consisted of some meaningless one night stands or a friends with benefits relationship that she always broke as the relationship hit the one month mark. Looking at her friends being in relationships that were founded on love and trust made her long for a similar connection but then she would remind herself that such happily ever afters existed only in books and movies and not real life. So she turned to books for comfort. If she was not found at her job or her home, she would be at the Rêveries on the 24 Boulevard du Jardin Exotique, Monaco. That little bookshop was her safe place. She could lose herself reading the plethora of books, forgetting the expectations people had from her. 

It was early Saturday morning and Y/n found herself browsing through the psychological thrillers shelf when someone bumped into her and hit her head. She was about to give the person a piece of her mind when he started apologising profusely. 

" Aye, I'm so so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going and I just needed to escape from the people outside and so ran inside the first place I found and I ran into you and I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. " 

His cheeks were pink and his eyes widened a bit from horror. He looked like a scared yet cute puppy, Y/n noticed. She just shook her head and let out a simple, " It's okay, it's fine. " 

"I'm Charles by the way" 

"Y/n" 

"Lovely name for a pretty girl. " 

Charles was entranced by the beauty of the person in front of him. Even with her brows furrowed as she stared at him in disbelief, she was pretty, infuriatingly so. He hoped he would be able to get her number. But then he realised he probably ruined his chances by being a blubbering mess. Still he thought he would give it a try. 

" So can I make it up to you by taking you out for a cup of coffee? " He asked her, desperately praying she would say yes. 

Y/n shook her head, " Uh, no , that won't be necessary. I'm fine. " 

Charles was disappointed. He was looking for a way to keep the conversation flowing when he noticed the book in her hand. 

" Is that " The Guest List" by Lucy Foley? " 

" Yeah….I've been meaning to read a psychological thriller and my friend recommended this. " 

" I've read it and it doesn't disappoint. You should definitely give it a try. " 

" You like reading? " 

" Yeah! It just gives me an escape from everything you know? Like I can forget about racing, PR events and every other thing" 

"Racing? " Charles didn't miss the adorable way her face scrunched and a slight pout appeared on her lips as she asked him about his profession. 

" I'm a Formula 1 driver. You like to watch? " 

" Uh, I have never watched it before, I'm sorry. " 

" There's nothing to be sorry about. If you want, I can explain it to you. " There was an excited glint in his eyes. He was hoping she would say yes so he could talk to her a little more. It didn't matter if he only got a few more seconds with her, he just didn't want the meeting to end. 

" I'm sorry but I gotta go. I've a meeting to prepare for . It was lovely talking to you Charles. " 

With that she left. Charles was a bit sad. No he waa extremely sad but convinced himself that he would meet her again and this time, he'll get her number. 

A month passed before they saw each other again. They met at the same place. Again Charles asked her out and again she refused. This happened three more times before she finally agreed to going on a date with him. To say Charles was overjoyed would be an understatement. He meticulously planned their first date. They went stargazing. Under the night sky, illuminated by the stars, Charles kissed her for the first time but it wouldn't be the last time he did. It was as if all of Y/n's fears vanished from that kiss. She was scared of entering into a relationship but a part of her knew Charles would take care of her heart, that he would never do anything to hurt her and that she would always be safe with him. She took the decision to let go of her fears just this once and allowed herself to fall for Charles. 

They've been together for three years. They've fought like any couple does but their love was stronger than all of the problems they were made to face. Charles knew she was the one he wanted to spend his life with, the one he wanted to be the mother of his children. He wanted to grow old with her and he wanted the honour of calling her his wife. 

He had been trying to plan the perfect proposal for months. He wanted it to be special, he wanted it to be something she will cherish for the rest of her life. He was passing through the streets of Monaco when he came across the bookstore where they had met for the first time. He knew at that moment that this was where he was gonna propose to his love

It was Sunday morning and Y/n was dragged out of the bed and was instructed to get ready for a bookstore date. Y/n was thrilled. It had been way too long since they had gone on a bookstore date. 

As they reached the bookstore, Y/n immediately thought of the first time she had met Charles.  She is glad she decided to give him a chance. She couldn't think of her life without him anymore. 

As they entered the store, Charles handed a piece of paper to her. 

" Is this a scavenger hunt? " Y/n asked curiously. If there's one thing she loved more than Charles, it was a good challenge. 

"Sort of.  The first number is the book shelf . Second is the row number . Third is the book number..  Each book has one sticky note in it.  You need to collect all the notes and piece them together. "

Y/n did exactly that. The clues led her to various books, from crime fiction to a cooking book to a love story about a painter and his muse. 

Y/n had collected all the notes. As she tried piecing the words together, she realised they spelt, " WILL YOU MARRY ME? " She turned to Charles but he wasn't there. He was on his knees with a delicate ring in his trembling hands. 

" I had something written but I can't find it anymore. I-" 

Charles was abruptly cut off by Y/n. She threw herself at him and they both landed on the ground with a thud. 

"Y/n"

" You really wanna marry me? " 

"Yeah. You're the best thing in my life mon trésor. I want everything with you. The good, the bad and everything in between. "

" More than your championship winning trophy? "

" More than that. So what is your answer? You wanna marry me? " 

" Yes! A hundred times yes. " 

Charles slid the ring on her finger and kissed her softly. They both knew that there was no place they would rather be. They were ready to start their forever. 

[darkestspring]

A, C and U from the yandere alphabet for Aegon I and II, please?

Aegon I "The Conquerer" Targaryen

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

it's a bit tricky with aegon i, he's the type to shower you with gifts but he's also there at every corner. you literally have to pretend you don't see him lurking nearby for your own sanity. he'll show you so much affection, kissing you, hugging you, holding your hand, kissing your hand. he'll have jewelry made for you in targaryen colors so he can stake his claim on you. he's very intense in his affection for you. you're his, why should he restrain himself or shy away from it?

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

I've mentioned it before but aegon i is capable of great violence and cruelty, just not towards you, you're completely safe from his bad side unless you misbehave or try to escape/run away and even then he'll just act like it hurts him to have to punish you. "it pains me to do this to you, my heart." he'll tell you in his saddest voice. "you would never be able to get far from me. not with everyone i have watching over you. you're mine, forever." he'll tell you, that targaryen madness shining through as he cups your face with his hands. "You're more than welcome to try though," he'll mockingly tell you. "I'll just have to fuck the will to escape out of you, my heart."

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

when it comes to it, aegon i is very classic yandere, possessive and obsessive. he won't isolate you unless it's to punish you and even then its not for very long. he'll shower you in gifts and affection, you're generally free to do what you wish but you're still trapped. you're the conquerers wife. the queen of westeros. he still wants you to love him, which is why he takes care not to show you a side of him that would make him unappealing to you.

Aegon II "The Usurper" Targaryen

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Aegon II is very intense, and very unpredictable. You never know whether he's going to kiss you or grip your jaw and demand you tell him you love him. aegon ii will provide you with everything, even things you don't need. if he gifts you with something, it's better to smile and thank him for it before kissing him. he's also very suffocating with his affection in the sense that he really doesn't care whether you're in private or in public, he'll tell you how much he desires you. you're the apple of his eye, his wife.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

aegon ii is capable of greeeat cruelty, he delights in seeing people in pain, depending on his mood, he'll delight in seeing the hazy look in your eyes as he bites down on your skin hard enough to draw blood. he loves to leave marks on your. marks that will turn into scars are his favorite. eternal proof that you are his, and his alone. Many pity you, especially his mother. Once you're in his grasp, depending on if you married him willingly or he abducted you, he'll either be delighted and as well-mannered as he can be or he'll mock you. he's a prince/king. it has been your fate to be his since he laid his eyes on you.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

aegon ii is very interesting as a yandere, in my eyes. you're special to him so he'll treat you better than he does everyone else but not by much, you're his wife, his woman. by time, you're in his grasp, he'll abandon his whores and lay with you exclusively. they were just a replacement for you anyways, it was so hard to find ones that reminded him of you but you're here. you're his wife. he'll tell you that constantly. how much he ached at the thought of you. he'll take your hand and place it on his hard manhood and unashamed tell you that you made him like this so you have to do something about this. he's a pervert and now he has you, you'll take care of him right? he'll give you baby after baby and still never be satisfied.