#and the. going back and doing PPD after

[cuntrytaylor]

next ARE scheduled october 20th.... this exam is harder and 1 hour longer....... wish me luck lads 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: panic attack, PPD

"Does tomorrow morning work? I'll be heading to base immediately after. Want to make sure I have enough time to say goodbye."

"Yeah, we'll see you then."

Simon goes to bed early that night.

He's good at clearing his mind and willing himself to sleep, hovering just barely there on the surface, never dipping too deep, and has done it for years. It enables his ability to rest in even some of the most uncomfortable circumstances (and that includes Johnny's snoring). It's compartmentalizing at it's finest, something he's tried to impress upon the sergeants too, over time.

Learn how to do this. It may save your life.

The pendulum swing keeps him somewhat aware, connected to a very small piece still tethered to the conscious world.

It's how he hears his phone ring at twenty hundred.

The caller ID flashes your name and he picks up immediately, sitting straight up. "Hey-"

"Hi, um..." You're crying. He flips himself out of bed, already partially dress, and manages to locate his shoes in a millisecond.

"What's wrong?"

"Can you... can you c-come- take the baby for a little while?" Your exhale whistles through the phone sharply. "P-please. I know you- you're leaving tomorrow but I-"

"It's alright, I'm on my way. I'll be there in a minute. Are you okay?"

"I- I... don't know wh-what to do." You're hyperventilating, caught in the grip of something, scared and alone. The sidewalk stretches for miles, his lungs burning as the oxygen stays trapped in his chest from the weight of his fear, and the line goes quiet, call ending as he makes it to the lobby of your building and up the stairs.

The copy of your key he never returned gets him inside, and the first thing he notices, or realizes, is Orion's screaming. He calls your name, yells it, beelining for the nursery where the baby lays on his back, hands and feet wriggling wildly in the air, tears coursing down his cheeks as he wails. "Alright, Ry, alright. C'mere, I've got you." You're not in here, not anywhere in sight, and his stomach flips.

You have to be here. He just talked to you.

But you wouldn't know how to signal him if something was really wrong, would you? He didn't prepare you. If something happened, how would you tell him?

He tucks Orion into his arms, cradles him to his chest, and bounces him gently. "Hey, you're okay, you're okay. What's all this crying about, hmm? What is it? Where's your mama?" The crying gentles, barely, and Simon holds him at a distance, quickly, checking him over. He's not overheated, he doesn't seem to be hurt, he's freshly bathed and in a clean onesie. His nappy is new and doesn't need to be changed. "Mama took good care of you, huh? You're all clean, fresh nappy, ready for bed, aren't you bub? Yeah." Simon paces in a circle, trying to settle his cries, before lowering him back into the crib. "You stay right here, little man, alright? Close your eyes. Daddy's gonna find mama and he'll be right back."

You're not in the living room, and he finds your bedroom dark when he opens the door. For a very brief moment, his panic blooms into paralyzation, before he spots the light from your bathroom.

His heart breaks when he opens the door.

You're on the floor, back against the vanity, sobbing with your palms covering your ears. You look like you haven't showered in days, and your light blue t shirt is soaked, slicked to your breasts and belly.

There's no distance between the two of you in this moment, no barriers, no time, no need for space. He kneels, and you look up, tearful eyes telling him all he needs to know. "I'm here, mama. I've got you."

You go into his arms willingly, diaphragm heaving with tiny hiccups and sobs, unable to catch your breath. Your entire body shakes, and wraps himself around you, holding you tight where you've buried your face in his chest. "I- I'm s-sorry." You're hoarse, voice cracked and broken. "He w-won't stop."

"Shhh, don't worry about that right now, just take a deep breath." You shake your head.

"I can't."

"Yes you can." You're frozen, panicked, and he smoothes his hand over your head. "You can do it, honey. Try f'me." The baby is still crying, and with the bathroom door slightly ajar, it bounces off the tile, all around you. Simon grimaces.

He's fine, he's safe. He's in his crib.

Simon shuts the door.

"Breathe with me, alright?" he maneuvers you so that you're in his arms, laying on his chest, face tipped back to his. "Just follow me," he pulls the hand that's gripping onto his forearm like rebar away and places it over his heart, "like this." You try and try to sync your breathing with his, and once you finally get there, evening out slowly, he kisses your hair. "There you go, good girl."

Simon keeps you close, happy to hold you, even if it was in these circumstances. It's so selfish, so wrong, but he can't find it in himself to let you go, waiting long past the point when you've calmed down to finally speak again. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"He... he wouldn't stop crying. For hours and I... I tried everything, but I felt like I couldn't breathe and I felt... dizzy, and when I went to feed him he didn't want me and I was crying too, but I felt so- so mad at the same time, and I didn't know what to do so I j-just put him in his crib and came in here and c-called you. I don't kn-know what I did wrong-" your breathing slips into shallow territory again, and he rubs your back.

"You didn't do anything wrong. He's okay, he's safe. He's even got a fresh nappy on. You made sure you took care of him, which is all you need to do, okay?"

"I feel awful," you whisper, drenched in shame, "he needs to eat, and I just- I abandoned him."

"No, you did the right thing and took a break. There's nothing wrong with taking a break." You sniffle, pulling the sopping shirt away from your body, shivering with discomfort. "Do you want to try again? See if it goes any better?" You give him a frightened look, unsure and nervous. "I'll be right here with you."

"Okay."

"Let's go see your mama." Orion has worked himself into a state, and it tears Simon to pieces, guilt about leaving him in here ripping through his heart.

He feels responsible. He is responsible, at the end of the day. If he had been upfront with you from the beginning, this might have never happened. He would have been here. You would have the support you need.

He was supposed to take care of you, but all he did was make it worse.

He kisses Orion gently. It helps quell the anxiety growing like a plague inside him, worry and fear about leaving you on your own for weeks, or more, chipping away at his resolve. He tells himself you'll be okay, that you did it on your own before he came along, and that you can do it again, but the admission of another dizzy spell doesn't make him feel any better in the long run.

"Don't worry, she's okay now. She loves you so much, you know that? She takes such good care of you, all the time. Even when she doesn't feel good, doesn't she?" He doesn't turn the lights on to your bedroom, and finds you on the bed, sitting up, wet shirt discarded on the floor. He doesn't rush it, doesn't push you, even though the baby cries at the top of his lungs in Simon's arms.

Finally, you hold your hands out. He helps get Orion settled, stroking his cheek over and over until he starts to instinctually seek you out, latching after a few long minutes.

Your eyes slip closed at the silence and you lean to the side, nestling into Simon's chest.

He holds you. You hold his baby.

How it was always meant to be.

He whispers above your ear, working his fingers into the knots of your neck, your shoulders. "You're doing great, mama." You hum but stay quiet, head down, fingers stroking over Ry's cheek, again and again.

"Thank you... for being here. I know things are complicated but it means a lot that you would come. I'm sorry I freaked out, about your job. I just... it's a lot to take in. I don't really know how to feel. I need some time." That's good, he thinks. Better than last week, when you asked him to leave with tears in your eyes. There's hope. He can fix this.

"You can have all the time you want sweetheart, but... I need to ask you a favor." Orion's body full relaxes, little fist clenched in the swell of your breast falling away, and you sigh.

"What is it?"

"When I'm away... I can turn my phone on every now and then, in specific places. D'you think you could send me some pictures? Or maybe I could call, when I'm able?"

"Of course."

He stays most of the night, until the sun comes up. Gets Ry back down, stands watch while you're in shower, helps you get settled in bed. There's a special place in his heart for you when you're soft and sweet and sleepy, a tiny kitten, curling up in the palm of his hand, purring. His moon. His everything.

"You be good for your mama, okay? I expect a good report when I get home. And try not to grow too much, alright little man?" He kisses his head, holding it there, walking around in the kitchen with Ry in his arms. "I love you, Orion. You and your mama. I'll be home real soon."

You turn the corner, something clenched in your hands, what, he can't tell, and you smile sadly. "I uh... I have something for you." He cocks, his head, shifting the baby to one arm, and you hold your fist out. "It's kind of dumb, honestly, but I thought you might... I don't know. I thought you might like it. I made it myself." It's a small fabric square, embroidered with a constellation, Orion's, he recognizes now, and a compass. "It's so you can always find it in the night sky. If you're in the northern hemisphere it should be south west, and if you're in the southern, it's in the north west. I didn't know like, what you could take with you but I figured this is small enough..." You look embarrassed, and all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and kiss you.

But he can't. He can only whisper your name, thick with emotion.

"It's great. I'll use it every night. Thank you." You blink, eyes wet, and then nod. He glances at his watch.

"Time to go?"

"Yeah," he hands you the baby, and picks up his duffle, the weight foreign now but still familiar. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

"I will."

"Promise me." He's stern, pushing a little bit of lieutenant into it, and you agree again, quickly.

"I will." You follow him to the door, holding Orion up for him to kiss one last time, and then he presses his mouth to your forehead, pleased when you don't pull away. He's dragging it out, the reluctance too ripe, and finally hangs his head in defeat after the too short minutes tick away.

"I'll see you soon." He gives you one last look, memorizing your face, Orion's, as much as he can, before heading down the hall.

"Simon," you call, turning him on a dime, "be careful, okay? Make sure... make sure you come home." Home.

"I will. I promise."

[miirohs]

nightingale [m.v.s]

pairing: Mob Boss!Max Verstappen x Nurse!Reader wc: 1.7k cw: indications of ppd (not explicit but you'd have to read the lines for it), max is not the most mentally stable, abuse mentioned (not in detail) an: elle is 100% made up and if yall want more family content hmu i can do it 😝 also, the nightingale oath isn’t universally used, but essentially it’s almost the same thing as the Hippocratic oath doctors take :)

“She won’t stop crying!” Max snapped, frustratedly clutching the rails of the crib as the baby in it cried relentlessly, giving you a crazed look from the corner of his eye as you got closer. It was like dealing with a wounded animal that refused your help.

“Breath Max. Breath.” From the moment you had arrived at the Verstappen home, it had been walking on eggshells, anger fueling his every waking move from as far as three weeks as he prowled around the house.

“Godverdomme (goddamnit) Y/n, I know that! Why is she crying though?!”

You reached out a hand, stroking his back gently. You ought to be as angry as him for having you snatched off the streets but you couldn’t, not with the reveal of his child. You had the barest idea of what he might have been going through.

“I don’t know, I'm not… yeah.” The look in his eyes turned sharp and you closed your mouth, staring down at your hands.

“I’m leaving, I can’t do this right now. Don’t come after me or else.” He threatened, the anger on his face fading into a stoic look as he turned away from the child, one look you feared more than his explosive anger.

It wasn’t until he left the room, gun drawn in hand, that you could breathe again, nearly collapsing to the floor.

You turned around, weakly holding the rails. You could hear him barking at the guards from inside the room, fading into the distance as your anticipation slowly died down. You thought that maybe today, you were good as dead.

The baby’s fussing had died down long before you had finally noticed. You hesitated when looking at her, reaching in to pick her up gently.

“Hi Elle.”

All the baby did was look at you blankly, eyes still wet from the countless tears that’d been shed before Max left. She had his gorgeous blue eyes, but most likely her mothers soft face.

You knew he was a dangerous man, and now you supposed the baby knew as well, seeing the way she’d been crying before Max had finally left the room. It wasn’t an isolated incident as well, building up across many miniature incidents.

The most shocking part, though, was the fact you’d been told the biggest kingpin in the Netherlands had a child. You would’ve laughed in the face of the person telling you before, but now it felt realer than it had been for the last couple weeks.

You gently cradled the baby in your arm, rocking her lightly as you looked out the door ajar to the hall. You could hear the guard grumbling in discontent as they went about their business, yet none of the commotion had bothered Elle. 

She had finally fallen asleep in your arms, gripping onto your finger as you put her down, a strong sense of familiarity washing over you. 

You spent a good part of your time caring for children, as this was no different to you.

Letting go of the crib, you steeled your nerves to walk out the room, arms crossed in front of your protectively as you eyed the men in the hall.

One of the guards, Daniel, held you back gently by the shoulder, looking at you with curious eyes. This was probably one of the more rare times seeing you, it was like you’d never left the nursery from the moment you got here.

“You can’t-”

“He kidnapped me from my own home Daniel. I don’t think he has a right to keep me from going wherever I want in his house.” You snapped, surprised at how hoarse your voice seemed.

He didn’t fight you, simply nodding and slinking back to his spot because there wasn’t much he could do to convince you to stay. 

You could easily recall your steps to the kitchen, the heat in your feet dispelled by the cold tiles as you entered.

You didn’t know how long you were there, standing blankly at the sink as the water continued to fill up in the glass.

The glass was overfilling and you watched it, hands clenched into fists before you released them entirely, weight rolling off your shoulders.

The sound of a door slamming snapped you out of your stupor, turning off the sink and staring into the dimly illuminated living room.

Max came through the door, blood staining his shirt and face, dirt smudge across his nose and cheeks. He noticed you, a look of disparagement in his eyes as he got closer. Looking into his eyes, it really reminded you of Elle.

He ignored you as he limped into the kitchen, opening a cabinet with more gentleness than you’d seen in days.

“I thought I told you not to leave her alone?” He said, voice scratchy and low as if he’d been screaming. 

“She’s finally asleep.”

You responded. He didn’t bother to critize you again, popping open the bottle of whisky and pouring it into a glass. 

He limped back to the living room, settling into an armchair with his back to the cityline. He looked almost formidable as the harsh shadows cast lines on his face.

“You sure have a way of showing you care, Max.”

“I know you aren’t criticizing me now, schat.” He laughed humorlessly, sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh yeah, because kidnapping someone to take care of your child really says you love them.” You snarked, eyes trailing to his sides. 

There were minor tears when you hadn’t seen his shirt before he left, heart beating loudly as you got a glimpse of his bloodied side as he pushed himself up.

“What happened to you?”

“What do you think happened?” He said, rolling his eyes as he lowered the glass from his lips.

“Well, this isn’t healthy. For you or Elle.” You said wearily, finger tracing the rim of the glass. “Have you ever considered therapy? It might-“

“No.” 

You blinked, surprised by his sudden refusal. “Why not?”

“I can’t. Do you know the kind of risk that poses?” He grumbled, clearly offended at you for suggesting so.

“Okay then, sure would’ve been better if you’d kidnapped a therapist rather than an underpaid nurse to do that job for you. Secrecy and all.” 

“That’s how you want to play then? I’ll give you the money, then leave this place and never come back, if you’re that desperate.” He gritted through clenched teeth, temper clearly being dialed up by the reminder.

“What? Absolutely not.” It was your turn to reject his offer, staring at him blankly. You didn’t know why that made you feel so upset.

“I’m offering you money and allowing you to leave, what more could you want, schat?” He scoffed, sharply putting down the whiskey glass as he held his head in the other hand.

“I can't just leave her like that, you know that as well as I do.” He remained silent, which you took as permission to get closer to him.

He didn’t protest as you leaned over, yet flinched slightly as you pulled his shirt up.

“Calm down, if I had any intention of hurting you, you’d know.” You rolled your eyes, turning up the light a little more so you could see the full extent of his wounds.

“I don’t think it’s necessary-“ 

You cut him off with a sharp inhale. The other miniature wounds stared back at you, barely cuts compared to the jagged scar that ran down his side. “When did this happen?” You whispered.

He slammed his glass down again and you flinched back, split seconds before you could look him in the eyes again. They were slightly sorrowful, but otherwise empty, where there had been every negative emotion a human could muster moments before.

“It was my dad.”

“Did he…” You didn’t finish the sentence, swallowing your doubts as you stared at it.

“Yes. It was in a fight. He won, obviously.” He answered, short and clipped as his posture dropped slightly. 

“Is this why you don’t want Elle? Because you don’t want her to go through-” You asked meekly, cut off almost instantly. “The old man is dead. I killed him myself, made sure he couldn’t lay a single hand on anyone else.” Max hissed, a few beats passing in between the both of you.

“Do you know anything about her mother maybe? I could probably pull together something if-”

“She’s dead.” 

You blinked, mouth gaping slightly.

“She was a prostitute. Most likely gone from all the drugs up her system by now. That’s why I needed you. Our old doctor… left his position early.” 

You watched him get up from his spot, clearly done with the conversation, but something about what he said seemed to strike a chord in you.

“So you brought me to make sure-“

“The baby wasn’t affected. You weren’t a doctor but you did just fine I suppose.” He finished, back to you and he poured himself another one.

“Max, do you know what a Nightingale oath is?”

“Een nacht wat (a night what)?” You continued on, though you had a feeling you knew what he said.

“It’s an oath some of us take. To protect and to serve.”

You got up, feet pattering against the ground as you got closer to him.

“I don’t think anyone really abides by it anymore-“ He let out a short laugh, clearly unbelieving of your words as you continued, “-but maybe, just maybe, that’s why I haven’t gone home just yet.”

“Are you sure you want this Y/n? When you could just as easily leave and go home now?” He muttered softly, hunched over the countertop as your hand met his back.

“I’m sure. You need the help Max. You can’t deny it.”

“Then so be it nachtegaal. I can’t stop you when you’ve made up your mind.” He murmured, steely blue eyes meeting your own as he held your gaze.

“Maybe, once you’re well enough, you can finally form some connection to the child.” You sighed, looking at him. “I promise it.”

“You’re very confident in this plan of yours.”

You smiled inwardly at his words. “Why else would I be here if I wasn’t?”

[getosbigballsack]

𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆 𝑻𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑾𝒊𝒇𝒆

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝐶𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑒 𝑆𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑥 𝑀𝐼𝐿𝐹 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟. 𝐴𝑛𝑦𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑐𝑢𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡, 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑢𝑠𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑑'𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑛.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑝, 𝑢𝑛𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑥, 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘, 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘, 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐸𝑡𝑐

𝐴/𝑁: ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑔𝑢𝑦𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑗𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑜 3𝑘 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑠. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑖 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑢𝑦𝑠 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑔𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦.

𝑊/𝐶: 3.4𝑘

𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑆𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑢' 𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑃𝑒𝑛✯

𝐸𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦❤︎

It was not a mistake, you knew exactly what you were doing when you made that phone call, asking him to come over, to hold you and sleep next to you because you were lonely. 

You knew exactly what you were doing when you opened that door to let him in, delivering the sultriest look you could muster up at him as your hands gently pulled open your robe revealing that you had nothing underneath. 

The way you stepped back, just so that he could follow up the steps leading up to your shared bedroom and close the door behind him, just before wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him in for a long, needy kiss. 

You needed this, you needed someone to touch in a way for which you have been longing. 

Yes!

You knew what you were doing, despite being married and all. 

Your husband was not home, away on a business trip as usual, leaving you and your one-year-old baby at home alone, expecting that everything is going to be splendid. Expecting you to be able to manage being home by yourself, taking care of your baby while suffering through postpartum depression (ppd). 

Well, he thought wrong. It is not like he cared enough to even stop and think for a second that, just maybe you were not doing too well or that you needed help raising a kid and all. He is selfish, only caring for himself and the number of pussies his dick could conquer. 

Creepy old man! In his late fifties and still acting as though he was a bachelor in his youth, with an all-mighty dick that could put any girl who dared to try fuck him in a while chair. The poor fellow did not know that his dick was no more than three inches long, four inches on a good day. You often wonder how he would manage to get you pregnant or have three kids (who were older than you by the way). 

His wife before you had to suffer the same fate that you did, pretending as though your legs are shaking, body high and drunk from his cock as you screamed his name from your lips, faking that orgasm in the best way possible. You deserved to be awarded for your performance in bed from time to time. Truly you were the best at faking your orgasm. 

Despite the sex being bad, he is not that bad of a man. A whore yes, but regardless he is a good man. Took you in when he realised that your father was struggling to pay your tuition. No need for backstories right now, the author still needs to get the part where you are fucking that hot mysterious guy. 

But anyway, long story short, after getting pregnant by this asshole, he left you (not really because you are still married to him) and told you that you were not anything special to him. He did not want to have another child, this man even tried to convince you to have an abortion. 

But anyway, you kept the baby, but keeping that baby was the worst mistake of your life. Because now you were suffering alone and in silence. Struggling to be a good mom, while trying to make yourself feel better and not discouraged. It was hard at first, but that’s until your husband's best friend’s son, Gojo Satoru, confessed that he is attracted to you. No, said that he liked you, he said that he had always liked you and he was first attracted to you the moment he saw you at his father’s party and was heavily pregnant with your baby boy Kaori. 

He showed you just how much he liked you, by caring for you in a way that your husband never once cared to do. Caring for your son, treating him as though Kaori was his child. He was giving you gifts, paying you compliments, cooking for you so much more. But nothing tops his sweet talks, dirty talks, his enthusiastic kisses, his hands groping your body, and that cock, thick and long, always penetrating you, pleasuring you in ways you thought impossible. 

And you cannot go back, no more faking orgasm because now, the moment he enters your fluttering pussy, you are already creaming. Hence the reason you had to call him over to your house tonight. To make love to you, not to fuck you, and once he has done, he will wrap you in his arms and kiss you good night while you both lay in bed until the dawn. But little did you know, tonight, your asshole of a husband would be returning home. 

… 

Pleasurable moans, those sweet erotic sounds dancing against his ear, his name falling from your lips as your fingers combed through his pillowy white hair. His lips against your neck, one hand resting on your hips while the other handheld the back of your thigh that was dangling over his shoulder. 

Your legs spread wide open for him, your pretty pussy on display for him to plunge his cock in and out of you at a slow and steady pace. His hips slowly rolled to the beat of the music that was softly playing in the background to dull whatever whimpers and moans that was coming from the both of you. Good thing your baby was staying with his sister tonight or else it would have been hell to keep your voice down with how good Gojo was making you feel. 

Speaking of the culprit, he managed to pull away from your neck after being attached to that one spot, sucking, and leaving his mark, now he was looking down at you. His lips slowly parted, releasing breathy moans as he stared down at you, gazing at you with his crystalline eyes burning with lust and need. His eyes, studying and memorising how beautiful you looked with your hair sprawled out over the pillows, drooling leaking from the corner of your mouth and your eyes, teary and filled with nothing but sweet lust for him. 

“Sa… Satoru…” you moaned, 

“Mhm?” he answered. 

Your fingers tightened in his hair, and you pulled his head down to you just so you could kiss his lips. “You’re so… deep.”

“Am I?” He asked, chuckling against your lips. 

“Yes…” you moaned. He bit your lips, tilted your hips, and plunged even deeper than he was before, eliciting a drawn-out moan from your kiss-swollen lips. “Ngh… ugh Satoru… not so… Deep!” 

“Why not?” he asked, teasing as he pulled away from your lips and began peppering kisses against your ears. “Doesn’t it feel good?” 

“Yes…” you cried, fingers still gripping his hair. “But… if you go any deeper then… then I’ll cum.” 

“Ha! Fuck. Guess I’ll go deeper then hm…” he said just before pulling away from your ear, sitting back on his knees, moved his hand from the back of grabbed your other leg and tossed other the shoulder that he has your other leg on then leaned forward to pressed your legs against your lactating breast. 

“Sat…”

“Shh… mama I got you,” he said just before pulling out to thrust back in, knocking the last breath you had within your body. You are screaming, your hand squirming to find purchase against his broad shoulders. Your nails crawled against his pearly white skin, toes curling just above his head; your breast bouncing in the motion of his hips, and you could feel fresh milk dripping from the fat swollen nipples and onto the skin of your breast. “Mhm… this deep enough to make you cum?” 

“Mhm… Sa… ru. Yes,” you screamed incoherently, but Gojo knew exactly what you were trying to say. He smiled and bent his head just a bit to suck on your milk-dripping nipples, humming at the taste of the milk against his tongue. His hand managed to slip between your body, nibble finger, finding your swollen clit quickly pinching and rubbing the swollen nub until your legs trembled, pussy fluttering around his cock. “Toru… cu- cu- cum. I am going to.” 

Your body tensed beneath him, and you sang his name at the top of your longs as though his name was your gospel, and it was because, at this very moment, your orgasm had you floating on your way to heaven. White dotted lights, his voice panting sweetly like an angel's melody, and your legs shaking, trembling as though you are dancing to your gospel still. 

Yes, you are truly in heaven currently, but that ecstasy did not last long because as soon as your orgasm was over, Gojo was already preparing you for another one. “So good…” you moaned as he pulled away from your chest, removed your legs from his shoulder, and spread them open again to watch as his cock, disappeared and reappeared between the walls of your creaming pussy. 

“Gonna, make you feel even better. Do you want that mama?” he asked you. 

You shook your head yes, your hands moving to pinch your nipples and grope your meaty breast as he continued to stroke you slowly, but deep as well. “Yes please… Give me your cock Toru-kun!” 

“I’m gonna give it to you until you can’t take it anymore,” and just as those words left his lips, his hips began to pick up a bit of speed. The fat mushroom tip of his cock kept poking against your sweet spot with every deep and fast stroke, and each time the tip touched that spot, your pussy creamed deliciously around his shaft.

God knows how long Gojo you had like that, but it was surely long enough for you to not recognize the bright lights pulling into the driveway, or the sound of the house keys jiggling as they pulled open the front door. You did not even hear footsteps tracking up the stairs or even the door to the shared bedroom was open. 

So lost and caught up in your pleasure, you were unable to see the shocked look on your husband’s face as he watched as the little boy he knew since he was in diapers, fucked the last breath or cry that you have in your body. 

The crotch of his pants stood to immediate attention, feeling his bump of a cock swell beneath them. Hand twitching around the doorknob, the pervert could not help but rub his rough hand against his… cock? If you could call it that. Three inches is barely even a cock. His cock was built like a baby shrimp. (No wonder his other wife cheated too.)

The man was in utter shock, almost had a or could have had a heart attack on the spot if he did not look that good getting fucked by a boy who was seven years younger than you. If he had known you would make such a pretty face, he would pay attention to you and even have sex with you like he once did before you became pregnant. If only he knew that you would look this good while getting railed, then he would have been all over you. 

Amid his perverted thoughts, he did not even realise that Gojo had spotted him at the door until their eyes made four and Gojo had a nasty smirk on his face while fondling your breast. “You gonna cum again for me mama?” He asked you in a slutty voice while still staring dead straight at your husband. 

“Mhm… yes… yes.” you screamed. 

“Do me a favour mama, grab the back of your knees and keep your legs open for me,” Gojo said, and you did exactly as you were told. 

“Like this?” you asked, panting desperately for your release. 

“Perfect.” This gave Satoru and your husband a perfect view of your plump creamy pussy on display. “Gonna fuck you deep again. Know how you love when I fuck this pussy with my big cock mamas,” Gojo said as he pulled out his cock from your pussy, smirking when he saw your husband's brow lifted and a shocked Pikachu look crossed his face. 

Yes… that right look as I tame and take your wife from you… Gojo thought before turning his head away from your husband just for a bit to focus on your pleasure. “Fuck! Satoru!” you screamed the moment he thrust back into you. 

“Yes… Baby,” he said, panting as he pounded your pussy mercilessly. His hand went back to pinch and flick at your throbbing clit, pushing you closer and closer to another orgasm. 

“I’m about to fucking cum… no I want to pee… Toru…ugh!” you stuttered helplessly at him. Your hand gripped the back of your thighs, your head lifting slightly to get a view of how Gojo’s cock was working your pussy out, stretching your ways to mould into the shape of his cock. 

“Fucking pee on me then,” he urged knowing damn well that you did not want to pee. He did not stop or slow down his pace, he just kept at it to the point where sweat was running down his forehead, his abdominal muscles began clenching and he started to see white lights. “Cum on Mama, give it to me give it to me…” and just like that your pussy pulsed and contracted, sucking his cock in before that clear liquid spurt from your pussy, forcing his cock to leave your hole. “Mhm… look at that fucking pussy squirt for me… yes.” 

“Oh… god put it back in please,” you begged as you released your thigh, grabbed his cock, and pushed it back into you. “Keep fucking me… gonna squirt again.” And he did as you asked, mercilessly pounding your pum-pum until once again, you are squirting all over him. 

Your husband looked beyond shock, in disbelief. You’ve never cum that hard for him before. He was angry, beyond pissed, Gojo however was smirking while staring at your husband. “Mr. Hiroshima can never compare, right mama!” 

“No… he’s fucking useless,” you moaned out after finally coming down from your orgasm. "Penis… too small."

“That is right. Get on your belly. I am not done with you yet.” You wasted no time, quickly laying on your stomach, arching your back, and spreading that ass just so that he could get a beautiful view of your dripping pussy. 

Gojo smiled before turning to your husband and whispered, “Watch me fuck your wife.”

…

“Good thing our baby is not home, right Mama,” Gojo whispered against your ears as he pressed into your pussy even more. “God, your pussy is so tight, so fucking warm and tight.”

“Please Toru-Kun, move…” you begged, and he chuckled. 

“What’s the rush, we have all night, right?” he whispered while pulling away from your ear, then resting both hands on your hips while he slowly began to roll his hips against your plush ass. “We have the night to ourselves. No baby, no friend, no husband, just me and you. Right here right now making love.” 

“Oh… harder please.” 

“Mhm… no, I am gonna take my time and breed this pussy. Don’t you want that?” he asked. “Don’t you want me to breed you, get you round and fat with my baby? Don’t you want Kaori to have a sibling?”

“Yes… yes, I do, but please fuck me harder.”

“Fine then as you wish baby,” with one last look at your husband who now had his hand in his pants, Gojo pulled out completely, grabbed both your arms, and held them together with one hand before pushing in making you gasp and moan.

His hips began rolling against your ass, heavy cum filled balls slapping against your cunt with each thrust of his hips, stroking you so deeply you could almost feel him poking out your belly. "Hm… fuck Toru! Right there, yes." 

His hand tightened around your arms, pulling you up until your back was flat against his chest. His free hand wrapped itself tightly around his throat, pushing your head back against his shoulder and away from the door to prevent you from finding out that your husband was watching. 

"Mhm…" he moaned into your ear, his hips still smacking against your ass. "So, fucking tight," he almost cried, feeling how much of a gorilla grip your pussy had around his cock, all while dripping and coating his cock with your love fluids. 

You began whimpering as you started to thrust your hips back to meet his thrust. Gojo cursed, hand tightening around your throat whispering, "fucking close mama," then gave you one hard thrust, which, made you scream. 

Now he was fucking you, rough and quickly. You could hear the smacking of his hips against your ass and the squelching sound of his cock thrusting in and out of your wet pussy grew louder. 

The bed began trembling behind you, the hardwood knocking against the wall now dulling out the sound of the music playing in the background and the sound of your pathetic husband whimpering. 

"You always make my pussy… you make my pussy feel so good Toru-Kun," you cried, while desperately panting for breath. And indeed, your pussy was beyond mad with pleasure, queefing and creaming around his cock. Each time the tip of his cock brushed against your sweet spot; your body grew even hotter. 

He let out a breathy chuckle before leaning over to kiss your plump lips. "Mhm… I know mama. I am going to cum so much in you. Do you want that?" 

"Yes… please." 

"Mhm, good mama," he whispered before releasing your hand and his fingers went to fiddle with your clit. Your thigh muscles tensed up, your upper half shaking against Gojo’s chest, and the boy smiled as he watched your milked-filled tits bounce in circular motions while milk dripped from your nipples yet again. 

"Good fucking girl, so fucking good for me mama," he praised, and those little praises had your body shivering. "Cum for me baby," and just like that you are experiencing yet another overwhelming orgasm. Strings of moans and his name fell from your lips, crying as he fucked you through your orgasm. His orgasm was not too far off from yours, just a couple more thrusts had him biting your jaw as he came deep inside your womb. He was shaking, the rhythm of his hips was now a mess as he continued to paint your walls with his thick cum. 

“Fuck that was amazing!” you moaned. 

“Mhm… I am gonna let you rest up a bit before round two mama,” Gojo whispered breathlessly. 

“That would be nice.” Gojo peppered your cheeks with kisses as he gently pulled out of you and then allowed you to fall face-first against the mattress. He did not waste much time hopping off the bed and quickly making his way towards the door. 

“Satoru baby, what's wrong?” You asked him. 

“It is nothing, just making sure that the door is locked. We do not want anyone spying on us now would we,” Gojo said while smiling at your husband as he slowly closed the door. 

“Do not be ridiculous, Satoru. We are the only ones here.” 

“Yeah, you are right. Now I wanna suck on your titties while you rest mama, are you gonna let me?” 

Poor Mr. Hiroshima huh!

Later that night. 

“You enjoyed the show, Mr. Hiroshima? It was wonderful, wasn’t it? I bet you didn't know that she could cum like that?” Gojo taunted Mr. Hiroshima as he slowly made his way into your kitchen to grab a bottom of water to rehydrate himself. He wore himself down after the second round of sex. 

“Have nothing to say, Mr. Hiroshima?” Gojo asked the man as he watched as he swirled the glass of whiskey in his hand. “Hm, I figured. After all there is nothing left to say now, I mean you did masturbate while watching as I fucked your wife. Such a dirty old pervert.” 

If looks could kill, then Gojo would have been dead ten times over. But that did not faze him, as a matter of fact, Gojo just laughed as he twisted open the bottle cap and quickly gulped down the water. 

“Well, I better get back to bed, Y/N needs me for the night. She will be up again begging me to fuck her back to sleep. I hope all those whores were worth it. Thanks to you, she will soon be mine. Anyways, later old man.” 

Your husband growls, swearing that what happened tonight will be the last time.

𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘? 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙ℎ 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑒 𝑢𝑝.

@getosbigballsack 2023

[cordeliawhohung]

i’m the mood for hurt/comfort but feel free to ignore,

what about mafia!price with his darling wife who is experiencing postpartum depression

PPD is such a terrible thing to have to go through. i've had a few patients share their experiences with me, so a lot of what i've incorporated into this short drabble is based off of that as well as some other research i've done. it's an issue that's largely ignored in our society but thankfully is being brought into light more. if you're experiencing this, please reach for help if you're able. there might be more resources for you than you realize (: i'll provide a link to the PSI website, should anyone find themselves in need of their support!

warnings: anxiety, intrusive thoughts (fear of infant death/harm), depression, hurt/comfort, f!reader, everything's gonna be okay (:

mafia!141 masterlist

She won't stop crying.

It's been four hours and your ears are ringing from your daughter's high pitched screaming, and nothing you do seems to console her. No amount of bouncing or shushing or attempts to feed her will cease her wails, and you're convinced that someone is trying to punish you. So you pace around the living room with her in your arms as you try and drown out her sobs with the late night weather. The clock on the bottom right of the screen reads 1:17 AM.

John is still at work.

You start crying when the clock reads 1:42. There's a terrible ache and burn in your arms from holding her for so long, but the thought of putting her down makes you want to scream. You think of attempting to tuck her away in her crib, to shut the door to try and take a moment to breathe and your mind is filled with what ifs. What if she chokes? What if she stops breathing and you're not around to help her? What if you leave her there, all alone, and you come back to nothing but a stiff corpse?

No, you can't put her down, so you continue to pace the living room while you attempt to ignore the wet tears that smother your face and neck. Why is she still crying? Is it something you did? Something you didn't do? Maybe you're just incompetent as a mother, so much so that your own child is rejecting you. This squealing, writhing mass of flesh is proof that you never should have bore her at all.

Keys jingle outside of the front door at 1:56 and neither you nor the baby have calmed down the slightest bit. The door swings open and shuts quickly after, and it doesn't take John long to find his wife and child sobbing together in the living room. He looks like hell with messy hair and wrinkled clothes, but it's nothing at all compared to your tear stained face and puffy eyes.

"Oh, darling," he breathes.

He crosses the room in an instant, but before he has time to question you, you hold the baby for him to take. There's an obvious tremble in your grip, and your biceps strain and cry out from the movement. Terrified you'll drop her, you all but shove her into his chest before he has the chance to scoop her up properly.

"Take her," you say through a sob. "I can't. I can't fucking do this."

Words leave his mouth but don't quite hit your ears. They're ringing much too loud for you to pay attention to anything other than the dread eating through your stomach.

Your tears don't stop when you leave the living room, or the house for that matter. Cool air teases the still wet streaks on your face, and with your hands free you can finally wipe them clean, though it doesn't make you feel any better. The backyard looks strange at night without any lights to illuminate it, and maybe you would feel creeped out or even scared if you could find it within you to even care about yourself in that moment.

When your legs can no longer carry you, you find yourself in the grass. Perfectly manicured and kept, it makes the perfect surface for you to sit on while you sob into your hands, powerless to do anything else. Something is wrong with you. There has to be. You couldn't comfort your daughter, couldn't get her to feed, couldn't do anything but hold her and pray it would all stop.

You aren't sure what time it is when you hear footsteps approaching behind you, but you don't have to turn around to know it's John. Tears have stopped pouring down your cheeks but your sobs still shake your body. John settles on the grass next to you, and you don't bother fighting against him as he pulls you into his lap.

You want to find comfort in his arms, in the way his hands rub long stripes along your back, but deep down you know you're not worth it. A pathetic excuse for a mother, you couldn't even calm his child before he got home from a long night at work.

"What's goin' on, love?" he prompts after a while.

It takes you a moment to find your words, and an even longer time before you can stop crying long enough to get any of them out. Still, John is patient with you, and he continues to rock and hold you, comforting you in the way you couldn't comfort your child.

"I wish I was a good mother," you cried, shamefully burying your face into his neck. "I can't get her to stop crying, she won't feed- nothing I do works. I'm sorry, I just can't, I don't know what to do."

John's grip on you grows tighter as you speak, and you focus on the way his thudding heart quickens at your words. One of his hands moves to the back of your head where he holds you even closer as he rests his chin on the top of your head.

"It's not your fault," he assures softly.

"It is!" you retort. "I can't bond with her, it's like she hates me. And I'm trying so hard but I can't get through to her..."

"Darling, she's just colicky, it's not your fault," he insists.

But you can't stop crying. There's a pit of hopelessness eating you from the inside out, and the pain turns your sobs into pathetic squeaks that shatters John's heart. He gently pries you away from his chest, cotton soaked and darkened from your tears, and cradles your cheeks in his hands.

"Look at me, hey," he whispers, guiding you to look at him. "You are raising a healthy, beautiful baby girl. Our baby. Sure, she's going through a fussy streak, but that's got nothin' to do with you. It's just colic, love. She'll get through it. We'll get through it."

It's difficult to agree with him, to believe him, and your confirmation feels empty in your throat when you speak. But he's looking at you with such love, like you hung the stars or...

Or like you gave him a child.

That night, John tucks you into bed and if the baby cries, you don't hear her. He spends the night tucked away in the living room on the couch, flipping through channels on the screen while shushing his fussy daughter. Her sobs had turned into heart wrenching whimpers by that point, which isn't great but is better than nothing.

When morning comes and the dull dawn light illuminates the room, John shoves his hand into his pocket and fishes out his phone. It's nearly dead since he had been on it half the night at work and didn't have the chance to charge it when he got home, but it has enough juice for him to make a quick call.

The dial tone is loud in his ear, and his daughter lets out a small whine before quickly settling down again. Simon's voice on the other end is groggy and harsh like he has gravel stuck in his vocal chords.

"Takin' the piss outta me calling me this early in the mornin' Price," he grumbles.

"You can get your beauty rest later. I need a favor," John says, ensuring that his voice stays low so as to not stir the baby. "I need some time off."

"Time off?" Simon repeats. "From the family?"

"My girls need me."

Silence fills the line. There's the slight sound of rustling, like someone's moving sheets or a duvet.

"Take care of 'em. I'll keep your boys in line," Simon replies.

There's nothing more to say after that besides a quick thanks, and as soon as the line cuts, the baby decides she isn't quite done crying yet. John shushes her as he rocks her and sits forward in his seat, pushing himself to his feet shortly after.

"Time for breakfast, is it?" he asks. Despite the sheer exhaustion that rattles his bones, he still smiles down at his daughter even though her face is too twisted with her cries to see it. "Alright sweetie, it's okay. Papa's gonna fix you something to eat."

[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Chapter 17

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst (so much angst I made myself cry), panic attack, drinking, sadness, reference to divorce, kids breaking your heart, references to babies, swearing, references to the military, fighting and marital strife, PPD, references to sex (but nothing explicit)

Seresin Residence, Miramar, 12 years ago

Jake sighed as he pulled his truck into the driveway of the little beach bungalow he had scrimped and saved to buy for his family. Normally, he was excited to get home after a long day of training, but lately? Lately, it seemed like all they did was fight. Some days, it was him fighting and Buttercup sitting there, taking it. Others, it was all out warfare, each of them screaming at each other. And after the fight they had had that morning, Jake wasn’t too pleased to be home.

The fight had worn on him all day. He had been absolute shit in the cockpit because of it, and he’d already had a verbal dressing down by just about everyone. Cyclone and Warlock had ripped into him pretty good. Rooster and Phoenix had taken pleasure in seeing him knocked down a peg or five. Maverick had only shaken his head at him in disappointment, and that had probably hurt the most.

With a groan, Jake got out of his truck and grabbed his duffle, heading to the front door. Three months ago, he would have kicked his boots off with a playful, “Honey, I’m home!” before racing to snuggle his daughters, pecking his wife on the lips as he went. But not today. Today, he toed his boots off and tossed his duffle into the laundry room.

It was quiet. Too quiet. Maybe they were all asleep. He wouldn’t be mad about it if they were. Maybe if Buttercup got some quality sleep, she’d be in a better mood.

Jake sighed and flipped on the light in the living room, startled when he spotted Buttercup sitting in her preferred armchair.

“Hey,” he drawled. “You surprised me. I thought you were asleep. Where are the girls?”

“Asleep,” she murmured, eyes tracking him as he grabbed a beer from the kitchen.

“Good. They eat okay today?”

“Charlie doesn’t like not breastfeeding, but she’s getting used to it. Abby’s still not eating enough.”

Jake ignored her cold, indifferent tone. “She’ll get there.” He flopped onto the couch and reached for the remote.

“Jake…”

“Buttercup, it’s been a long day,” he groaned. “I really don’t want to fight tonight. The girls are asleep. Go have a bath or something, let me watch TV, and I’ll order us a pizza for dinner. Okay?”

“So, that’s it then?” Finally, her voice had a touch of a bite to it. “No comment, no nothing from you? You said no and that’s that? Your word is law?”

Jake groaned and let his hand flop back onto the sofa. “I don’t know what else you expected me to say. I’m part of the U.S. Navy. Meaning I have to be in the United States. I can’t move to England just because you got a job interview for a publishing job. There are dozens of publishers that are stateside. Why not go for one of them? I’m sure they’d let you work remotely. I don’t see why you want to move to a different continent.”

“They’re the only ones who have offered to take a look at my writing on top of my publishing responsibilities,” she hissed. “Which you would know if you paid any attention to me.”

“Okay, so you can do your whole writing thing from anywhere, can’t you? Skip the whole publisher thing and focus on writing! When you’re done writing or whatever, you can send it to a publisher! You’d at least get to stay with me that way!”

“How am I supposed to focus on my writing, Jake? I barely get a chance to breathe, let alone sit down at a computer and write!” Buttercup’s voice was weak and desperate, and grating on Jake’s nerves. He hated it when she sounded like that, and she’d been sounding like it more and more. He would’ve done anything to make it better, but he was too tired to try. “You’re not around during the day, so you don’t know what its like! One of them always needs me, and Charlie is fussy, and Abby’s not eating enough, and I can barely breathe! And you want me to what? Follow you around from base to base, taking care of our daughters on my own while you’re on deployment after deployment?”

“That is what you signed up for when you married me!” Jake shouted, his frustration and exhaustion finally bubbling over. “I thought you would’ve known that based on how often your brother gets to go home! This is what it means to be in a military family! This is what you signed up for!”

“I signed up for you!” she shouted. “I signed up for a man who loves me, who is home to share the load with me! Not a man who has his head shoved so far up Uncle Sam’s ass that he can’t see the sun!”

“Don’t you dare!” Jake stood. “Everything I do is for the safety of this country and for you and our daughters. Don’t you want our girls to grow up in a country that is safe?”

“I would rather our daughters grow up knowing their father! They barely see you anymore! And it’s only going to get worse as they get older!”

“I’ll be promoted by the time that they’re older! That means less time deployed!”

Buttercup was shaking her head, shrinking back in her seat. “You’ll never give up flying, Jake. You wouldn’t take a promotion that meant you were grounded. It’s not who you are.” Buttercup’s voice shook. “Just like sitting at home, waiting for my husband to come back while I take care of our home and children isn’t who I am. I need more.”

Jake scoffed, red creeping into the edges of his vision. He felt like he was running on autopilot, unable to stop himself or control his anger. “So, what? We’re not enough for you?”

“Don’t do that!” Buttercup snapped. “Our family is everything to me, but I need more! I need something outside of just being a mom and your wife!”

“Okay, so London is that then? Will London be enough for you?” Jake was wrangling every ounce of his strength to pull himself back, to not do this. They were both tired, both stressed. She hadn’t been herself since the babies were born, and it didn’t help that he had been deployed when they had sworn to him that he would be grounded for his first few months of fatherhood. If they could just get on the same page again, everything would be okay. But that would only happen if he could get Hangman to take a backseat and let Jake handle this.

Buttercup’s eyes flooded at his mocking tone. “Fuck you, Jake.”

Loud cries echoed through the house and Jake huffed before heading down the hall. “Go take a bath, Buttercup. I’ll take care of the girls.”

In the nursery, Jake pulled Charlie into his arms and sighed, rocking his red-faced baby girl in his arms. It would all be okay. The first year was always going to be the hardest. If they could make it through that, they would be stronger than ever.

It didn’t hit Jake that it was too late until a few days later, when he came home to find a teary-eyed Buttercup standing in the kitchen, handing him a pile of divorce papers.

Seresin Ranch, Clifton, Texas, Now

Early morning sunshine danced across her eyelids, and she tried to bury her face in the pillow beside her. It was way too freaking early to be conscious after the night she’d had, she was bone tired, and she was sore in a deeply satisfying way. The dull ache in her muscles and the muted throbbing between her thighs were better than any soreness she had ever gotten from an extended workout. It was an ache that she hadn’t felt in years.

Stretching like a cat, Buttercup slowly sat up against the headboard and blinked against the sun streaming through the grey curtains, and three things hit her in quick succession.

She was not in her bedroom. Her curtains were not grey, and her window did not face east.

She was naked. Her usual t-shirt and shorts were absent as the cool cotton sheets kissed her skin.

The soreness she was feeling was accompanied by a series of hickies and bruises that decorated her body like confetti. Her neck, her chest, her breasts, her stomach, and her inner thighs were littered with the dark purple marks, leaving her feeling like a teenager the night after prom.

Buttercup felt her stomach roil as the memories from the previous night washed over her like a tidal wave. The barbecue, fighting with Jake, dancing with Jake, having 3 a.m. grilled cheese with Jake and splitting a beer with him before giving him permission to kiss her…Jake carrying her to his bedroom and making love to her sweetly and gently, then rolling her over and fucking her hard, then taking her again in the softest, tenderest way as the sun slowly began to rise.

What had she done? What had she done? This wasn’t who she was. She had never been the type of person who just fell into bed with a guy, and certainly not when that guy was her ex-husband. But then, she had always been helpless against him. Back before things had soured between them, she had been almost as good as Maverick at keeping all of the Daggers in line, but one flash of those bright green eyes and those dimples, and she was basically Jello. She had never been able to tell him ‘no’, except for once.

Buttercup pulled her legs up tight against her chest and pressed the heels of her palms into her closed eyes until she saw stars. She was so stupid. So weak. She had put in over a decade of work to make herself stronger, strong enough to withstand being alone, strong enough to be a single mother, strong enough to hold her ground against him. And yet, like a teenage girl, she caved at the sight of gleaming abs and a cocky grin, and the sound of sweet nothings he had whispered in her ear.

What would the girls think if they found out? Would they think they were getting back together? Of course they would, that had been their plan since the beginning. But a one-night stand did not a relationship make, and neither did attraction. Attraction and chemistry had never been their problem. Communication had been, and, though they had clearly gotten better at it over the past decade, it didn’t solve all the problems that still remained between them. Past hurts and past histories and words that had been said that couldn’t be taken back.

God, how she wished she could take them back. She had been sick in the head and sick in the heart when she had uttered those poisoned words to him, wanting him to feel like she did in the most toxic way. She was toxic to him, not the other way around like so many had thought would happen. Her own brother had warned her away from Jake Seresin the minute they met, cautioning her that he would ruin her life, but he hadn’t. He had given her the greatest year and a half of her life and two daughters that she wouldn’t trade for the world. She was the one who ruined him. Just like her nickname, she was a poison, and she would only destroy him more if she stuck around.

Tears began to well in her eyes, but Buttercup quickly dashed them away as she scrambled from Jake’s bed and began searching for her clothes, which she found neatly folded on the antique wingback chair in the corner of the room. Her heart ached at the sweetness of this man, who had opened his home to her for a week so they could both get quality time with their daughters, who had ended his engagement because his fiancée had been cruel to their girls. He didn’t deserve this. Maybe the old Hangman had been cocky and brash and bold, maybe Hangman had left a trail of broken hearts behind him, but her Jake didn’t deserve to have his heart broken because she was so weak and selfish. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving him, of only seeing him at events for the girls, of eventually seeing him engaged to a woman who did deserve him. But she didn’t deserve him. She wasn’t strong enough to be his reason for living once the girls graduated.

The realization had her slowly pulling her clothes on, choking back sobs and dashing her tears away. He needed more than her. He needed someone who was strong enough to hold him up while he figured out what he wanted to do with his life once the girls had moved on. He needed someone who wouldn’t panic at the very suggestion of him going back to the Navy. She needed to walk away so that he could find that person. Despite the pain lancing through her heart and the heaviness in her limbs, she had to. She wouldn’t poison him anymore. Not when she…

More tears streamed down her face as she stumbled into his ensuite and desperately tried to make herself look like less of a heartbroken mess. He would be okay and, eventually, so would she. The girls would struggle, but she would fight like hell to make sure her girls still had so much love and support from both of their parents, even if they lived on opposite sides of the globe. They wouldn’t suffer just because their mother was toxic.

A deep wash of her face and multiple splashes of cool water later, Buttercup, resolved and heartbroken, strolled out of the bedroom and made her way back to the kitchen, finding her daughters sitting at the island while Jake flipped pancakes.

“Morning, Mom!”

“Morning, Mum!”

“Hey, darlin’,” Jake followed up the sweet chorus of their daughters’ voices with a shy grin, so unlike him but still so fitting that it made the ache in her chest deepen. “Did you sleep okay?”

Buttercup fought to keep her face straight as she regarded him with as much cool indifference as she could muster. “Yes, thank you. And good thing too. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

Plates clattered as Charlie set the island for breakfast. “What are we doing tomorrow?”

Buttercup fought the pain and panic rising in her throat as she looked at the smiling figures of her broken family. “A-Abby and I are going home tomorrow,” she croaked out. “Our flight leaves at 9 p.m.”

Silence fell like a heavy, suffocating fog over the kitchen. Abby had frozen in her seat, a juicy red grape dangling almost comically from her fingers halfway between the bowl and her mouth. Charlie wasn’t doing much better, a plate suspended in midair while her face flushed. And Jake? She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, to see the anger or pity or fury that was undoubtedly marring his handsome features.

It was Charlie who broke the silence first. “What?”

The question was so simple, but Buttercup had to brace herself before answering. “We promised you a week together, and it’s been a week. Our flight has always been leaving tomorrow.” She managed a weak smile at her daughters. “I guess time really does fly when you’re having fun.”

“Mum…” Buttercup’s heart nearly shattered at the broken, pleading sound of her baby’s voice. “Couldn’t we stay? Please?”

For the time being, Buttercup was winning the losing battle against the tears that were clogging her throat and flooding her eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but we can’t. You start school next week and I have deadlines to meet. Uncle Bob and Auntie Nat have to go back to work too. But your dad and I have figured out a good schedule for visiting. You get more school vacation than Charlie does, so you’ll get to come here for a few breaks, and Charlie will get to come visit us when she has breaks, and then we’re going to split the summer in half, okay? I—” Buttercup’s voice cracked, and she turned her eyes skyward to prevent the tears from falling again. “I know it’s not what you want, but it’s the best we can do.”

“That’s BULLSHIT!” Charlie’s cry was loud and harsh. “That’s complete bullshit! You could both stay! Everyone should stay!”

Buttercup’s breath stuttered in her chest as she looked at her daughter, so full of pain and anger. “I know that you wish we could, sweetheart, but we can’t. I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry?” Charlie was crying now, hot tears running down her red cheeks. “I only get two weeks with you after 12 years and now you’re leaving and you’re sorry? That’s bullshit!”

“Charlie…” Jake’s voice was a soft warning.

“What?” She whirled on her dad. “It is! She could stay here if she really wanted to! But she doesn’t! She doesn’t care. Not about you or me or anyone! If she cared, she wouldn’t have left us in the first place!”

“Charlie…” Buttercup couldn’t stand the way her voice crackled with tears. “Charlie, I—”

“I hate you!” Charlie turned on her, green eyes full of anguish. “I hate you!”

“That’s enough!” Jake didn’t yell, but his voice held that military tone that immediately silenced everyone in the kitchen, save for Charlie’s ragged breathing and Abby’s soft sniffles. “You do not get to talk to your mother that way. You can be angry all you want, but this is a joint decision between your mother and I, so if you hate her then you hate me too. And no matter how you feel about us, I know that I taught you respect. We do not lash out at other people because of the way we are feeling in this family. We talk it out, and if we can’t manage how we’re feeling then we take a beat before we have a calm conversation. So, go take a beat. Take a lap of the ranch and cool off, Charlie.” Jake’s tone was no-nonsense and left no room for argument. Chest heaving, Charlie stomped away and let the door slam behind her. Jake sighed and looked at his oldest daughter, sniffling quietly in her seat. “Why don’t you go with her, Abby?” His voice was gentler now. “I think maybe some fresh air and a walk will do you both some good.”

Not saying anything, Abby nodded meekly and shuffled out of the kitchen, the front door barely clicking shut in comparison to the slam that had rocked everyone to their very foundations.

Buttercup stood stock still in the kitchen doorway, hand wrapped around her throat as she fought the tears that were falling slowly.

“Buttercup…” She flinched violently away from Jake’s gentle hand on her elbow, and he held his hands up. “Buttercup, it’s alright. It’s all gonna be alright.”

She shook her head, clutching at her throat to get the words out. “She’s right. It’s all my fault.”

“Now, I thought I told you I didn’t want to hear any of that anymore,” Jake said, gently but with a hint of stern resolve. “Now, why don’t we sit down and talk about this?”

“There’s really nothing to talk about, Jake.” Buttercup’s sigh was bone-weary as she sank into one of the island stools. “We have to go home. Abby’s got school, Bob and Nat have work, I have deadlines that I’m already behind on and signings I promised to do months ago and they want me to do edits for a script for one of my novels…We promised them a week together, and that’s what they got.” She shrugged helplessly. “There’s nothing we can do to change that.”

“I get where you’re coming from, darlin’, I do…” Jake leaned against the island across from her. “But…it wouldn’t be too difficult to get Abby signed up for school here, and Bob and Phoenix are grown ups, they don’t need you to take them home. And you…” He sighed heavily. “You can write from anywhere, so why can’t you write here with us?”

Buttercup’s heart cracked wide open, years of heartbreak and loneliness and anger pouring out of her like hot lava. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that again! What about the life I’ve built for myself? My professional reputation? My friends? Abby’s friends? I have a life in London! I like my life in London!”

“I know that.” Jake kept his voice even and calm, even as he wanted to reach out and calm her. “I know I fucked it up the first time. I know I didn’t get it the first time, how much the job and the move and everything meant to you back then. But you’re an award-winning author now, Buttercup. You’re like…number one draft pick in the NFL. You would have dozens of publishers falling all over themselves and each other to publish your stories now. Hell, with the way technology has improved in the last decade, nothing would stop you from keeping your publisher in London and Zooming into meetings with them from here. Isn’t it at least an option?”

Everything he was saying made perfect sense. It was all logical and well thought out, and, for a moment, she could picture it. Staying in Clifton, on the ranch. Turning the guest bedroom into an office for her to write out of while staring out at the pretty scenery, waking every morning in the cradle of Jake’s arms and cuddling with him until their daughters dragged them from bed. Giving them a real shot.

But a real shot meant the possibility of real pain. Pain that she had barely healed from the first time. Pain that she had put him through. Pain that he didn’t deserve. He didn’t deserve any of it, but to protect him, she would have to hurt him.

“I can’t just give up my job, my life because of a one-night stand.” Her voice was cold, belying the white-hot pain that was shooting through her heart, her very soul.

“I thought I meant more to you than that?”

She could hear the pain in his voice and ducked her head, refusing to meet his eyes. “You do…” she whispered, so quiet that he wouldn’t be able to hear her. The words “You did” came at a louder volume. “But I worked too hard to get to where I am now, and so did you.” She gulped down air, feeling like the walls were closing in on her. “I…I finally healed from everything we put each other through, and we can’t just fall back together again because it’s easy.”

Jake scrubbed a hand over his face. He knew what she was talking about. They had put each other through a lot, and it had taken over a decade to even start to heal from that, but they had healed. Wasn’t he worth giving it another go? Weren’t the girls worth trying for? He tamped down the anger he felt growing in his gut and asked, “When have we ever been easy?”

“You know what I mean, Jake.” Her sigh was heavy, bowing her shoulders like she was carrying the weight of the world. “We’re familiar. We’ve been living in the same house for a week, and, in a moment of weakness, we let ourselves fall back into old habits. And it felt good. But we’ve been down this road before. We know what lies at the end of it.” Tears pricked her eyes again and she blinked them back. “Besides, you were just engaged to another woman. You were planning on going back to the Navy. I…I can’t be the thing you hold onto just because you’re afraid of what your life will look like in six years.”

Jake felt the anger within him rise, and he relied on every ounce of his military training to remain composed, to not let the anger seep into his voice. “I don’t think I’m the one who is afraid here. You’re running.”

“Jake—”

Despite the way she was shaking her head, hands covering her face, Jake moved around the island and gently put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. “I know you felt something last night. I felt it too. Just because we didn’t work out the first time, doesn’t mean we won’t work out this time. You don’t have to be afraid of what might happen either, sweetheart.” His voice was filled with so much warmth and passion that Buttercup felt the tears fall faster and harder down her cheeks. This sweet man. She had never deserved him. His hands stroked her upper arms as he continued. “You’ve done such a good job on your own. Abby is incredible and your books…” Jake shook his head in amazement. “You’re incredible. But you don’t have to be strong and do it all on your own anymore. I know you can, but you don’t have to. Let me help. Just stay and let me help.” He was begging and he knew it, but he couldn’t help the tightness in his chest that told him that he had to convince her to stay. That he couldn’t lose her again. “I know you felt it last night,” he ended in a murmur.

Buttercup buried her head in her hands and sobbed. He was saying all the right words and she could feel the warmth and kindness pouring out of him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she would ruin it all again. “I…I can’t,” she cried. “We have to be the adults here. I can’t just leave my life behind and stay with you. Not again. We tried that once and it didn’t work, and we owe it to our girls to be better this time. We have to be better this time. For them. What we want doesn’t matter.”

Breath whooshed out of Jake’s lungs as he took her in. His Buttercup looked so small and broken, sobbing at his kitchen island. He had done that to her. He had broken his strong, independent, fiercely loyal and kind woman. No matter how badly he wanted to keep her, he couldn’t hold her back again. “This…this is really what you want?”

With doubt clogging her throat, she murmured, “It is.”

Jake’s shoulders bowed, and he grunted to clear the tingling in his throat and in the bridge of his nose. “Then…as you wish, I guess.”

Buttercup nearly ran down the path towards the dude ranch cabins. After a tense breakfast, one where no one said anything to each other, Buttercup got changed and got out of the ranch house as quickly as she possibly could. She felt like she couldn’t breathe with the weight of Jake’s disappointed gaze upon her and Charlie’s hate-filled words hanging in the air around them. Not even her sweet Abby had been able to look her in the eye, so she fled the moment it was acceptable to do so.

Now, she was marching to her brother’s cabin to talk to him and his best friend, to get some sort of reassurance that she was doing the right thing. She quickly climbed the two steps up and came up short when the door swung open, Javy emerging in his jeans, carrying his shirt from last night.

“Oh…” They both froze and stared at each other. “Hey Buttercup.”

“Hey Javy…”

“You, uh…” Javy shuffled his feet. “You good?”

“Not really,” she admitted, staring down at her toes. “Is Nat in there? Or Bob?”

“Bob spent the night in Mickey’s cabin with him and Yale. But Nat…” A shy smile pulled at Javy’s lips as he shrugged. “She’s asleep upstairs. I’ve gotta run to practice though. Can you tell her I said goodbye? And that I’ll see her for dinner tonight?”

Despite her own broken heart, Buttercup found herself smiling. “I’m glad you two were able to work it out. I’ll let her know.”

“Thanks, Buttercup.” He grinned and placed a light jab against her shoulder as he passed. “And hey? I’m sure whatever’s bugging you will work itself out in the end.”

“I don’t think so, Javy. But thanks.”

Buttercup let herself into the quaint little cabin and headed straight for the bedroom, where her friend was just waking up. Buttercup thanked whatever not-completely-evil god that was out there that her friend was wearing a t-shirt. After the morning she’d had, the last thing she wanted was to have her friend flash her by accident.

“Hey…” Natasha yawned as she stretched her arms over her head. “What’re you doin’ here? Where’s—” Natasha cut herself off, looking away from Buttercup.

“Javy had football practice. He says he’ll see you for dinner.” That was all Buttercup managed to get out before flopping onto the bed and sobbing.

“Jesus Christ, B!” Natasha scrambled up and pulled her crying friend into her lap. “What the hell?” A gentle hand ran up and down the length of Buttercup’s spine. “You’re alright, girl. C’mon.”

“J-Jake and I hooked up last night,” Buttercup blubbered, burying her face into the plaid comforter that covered her friend’s lap.

“And…was it…not good?” Try as she might, Natasha was struggling to see the problem.

“It was great!”

Both ladies were surprised at the strength of Buttercup’s sobs. It was unlike her to cry so much, but clearly, she had to exorcise some demons, and crying seemed to be the best way to get them out.

Natasha sighed and patted her friend on the back. “Then I am confused.”

“Join the fucking club…” Buttercup muttered, wiping her face on the bedspread before sitting up, her tear ducts seemingly empty. “We…we’re going home tomorrow. I can’t believe I was so stupid as to hook up with my ex-husband right before we’re going back home.”

“Not gonna lie, lady, but you were basically eye-fucking him all night. I’m not surprised that you two fell into bed together. The sexual tension was too great.” Natasha propped herself up against the oak headboard and stared at her friend. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Lots of couples do one last fuck fest after a breakup or divorce.”

“Is that what you and Javy were doing last night?” Buttercup bit out, no malice in her voice, only exhaustion.

Natasha bit her lip. “Actually…it was more of a ‘lets try this thing again’ than a ‘lets get this thing out of our systems’.”

Buttercup blinked her bloodshot eyes. “How are you two going to try it again when our flight leaves tomorrow?”

One of Natasha’s calloused fingers gently traced the scar that ran over her eye, something that she only did on the rare occasion that she was nervous. “That’s the thing…I’m not getting on that flight. Bob said that he could get me a refund with the airline since it’s, y’know, his airline.”

“You’re staying?” Of all the things she expected her best friend to say, it certainly wasn’t that. “What about your classes? Your friends?”

Natasha shrugged. “One of the other instructors can take over until they hire someone else. And there’s a gym in town that needs a new female personal trainer. Javy’s pretty sure they’d take me on the spot. And honestly, B? What friends? I had work friends that I only hung out with occasionally off the clock, and I had you and Bob. I lived in your home, ate your food, and hung out with you. No offence, because you know I love you, but not going back isn’t that big of a deal to me.”

Buttercup nodded as she looked at her friend. “I hate that you’re leaving me,” she mumbled, pulling Natasha into a fierce hug. “But I’m proud of you for giving him another shot. You just make sure he knows that if he hurts you, I’m only one transatlantic flight away from kicking his ass.”

“Or…you could always stay too and be just a walk down the road away from kicking his ass.” Natasha’s voice was gentle and kind, but Buttercup was already shaking her head. “Why not?”

“Because we tried, and we failed.”

“So did me and Javy,” Natasha nudged her.

“But you don’t have kids who will suffer if you try again and it still falls apart.”

“Fair point…” Natasha hummed and turned towards her. “What if it doesn’t fall apart?”

“I can’t risk it, Nat,” Buttercup murmured, tears welling in her eyes again. “I can’t hurt Abby and Charlie like that. They have to come first.”

“I get that.” Natasha reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand comfortingly. “But you have spent over a decade putting Abby first. You have been an amazing mother to that girl. Maybe it’s time to start putting yourself first instead.”

Buttercup squeezed back, snuggling down in her friend’s bed and sighing. If only it was that easy.

The next 24 hours passed in a blur of emotion. Charlie still wasn’t speaking to Buttercup, despite Jake’s private talk with her when she returned to the ranch house after her walk. Abby wasn’t faring much better, quiet but not angry the way her sister was. More…resigned. And Jake…well, Jake did what Jake always did. He walled up everything he was feeling behind thick, military issue shields and pretended. It was what he was trained to do. Compartmentalize and prioritize. His priority was making sure that his girls didn’t leave the ranch sad.

Buttercup’s eyes remained bloodshot for the rest of the day, and it broke Jake’s heart to see his girl so distraught. Part of him wanted to ask her to reconsider, to ask if her decision to leave was what was making her so miserable, but he didn’t. His Buttercup had only made one rash decision in her entire life: staying with him in Miramar. Every other decision had been meticulously thought out, including going to London to start over. He couldn’t blame her for that, and he couldn’t blame her for wanting to return to her life abroad, no matter how much it felt like it was killing him to let her go again.

So, Jake pushed it all down and tried to make it the best 24 hours he possibly could. He took his three girls on a trail ride after having a small goodbye lunch for their remaining guests. Fanboy, Yale, Payback and his family all enjoyed a small gathering despite the tense atmosphere. That atmosphere remained throughout the trail ride, though Jake had hoped it would help cool Charlie down. Dinner was similarly quiet, the five of them eating their spaghetti and meatballs in relative silence, though it seemed that both Rooster and Charlie were cheered to hear that Phoenix would be staying. Jake couldn’t help the glance he spared at Buttercup when that news was shared before Javy swept Phoenix out the door to keep their dinner reservation in town. He knew he couldn’t question why Phoenix was brave enough to stay and try to work things out, not when he knew why Buttercup was doing the brave thing by leaving. She was doing it so that the girls wouldn’t suffer from the fallout if they couldn’t keep their shit together a second time, and Jake couldn’t blame her. He would do anything to make sure Charlie was happy. Problem was that this decision didn’t seem to be making anyone happy.

Nobody got much sleep that night, the tension growing over the house like a big black storm cloud, what ifs and maybes swirling like a tornado. Day dawned without sun; the metaphorical storm having grown into a real one that had rain lashing at the windows. Breakfast was a silent affair, and Jake could barely choke down any lunch, one final meal before he had to say goodbye to his girls.

Bags were piled at the front door, waiting for the airport limo Bob had called for, complimentary because of his position with the airline. Six adults and two children stood in the doorway of the ranch house, waiting for the telltale sound of tire on gravel to signal the end. When Jake caught sight of headlights bouncing through the darkened sky, he sighed and gathered Abby into his arms.

“I love you, baby,” he murmured into her hair, and his heart broke as she clutched him tighter. “I’ll see you at Thanksgiving, okay?”

“I love you too, daddy.”

Jake opened his eyes and saw Buttercup ringing her hands as she approached Charlie, who had her arms crossed stiffly across her chest.

“I…I’m sorry, Charlie,” he heard her soft words and his chest ached for her. For both of them. His two girls were so strong and so stubborn, and they were both in so much pain. “I love you, sweet girl. I hope you remember that.” When it became clear that Charlie was not going to embrace her mother, Buttercup sighed and pressed a kiss to her hair instead. “I love you, darling.”

Buttercup turned to Rooster, who wrapped her in a tight hug. “You take care of yourself, alright, Buttercup?” he gravelled.

“I will. You take care of them for me, okay?”

“You know I will.”

A similar exchange happened with Javy, though Jake was sure that it included some sort of threat about treating Phoenix well, based on the slight grimace on Javy’s face as Buttercup turned and hugged her friend.

It was at that point that the car pulled up to the front door and Jake forced himself to release his daughter.

“Go say goodbye to everyone while I take your bags out,” he whispered to her, trying his best not to crumble at her tear-stained face.

She nodded and ran over to Phoenix, almost knocking her over. “I love you, Auntie Nat.”

“I love you too, kid.”

She squeezed Rooster next, the two of them having a whispered conversation as Jake passed, taking the bags out to the limo. He didn’t care that his white t-shirt was becoming see-through. He didn’t much care for anything at the moment. He was completely numb, just like he had been when he watched Buttercup and Abby walk out his front door the first time. He took his time loading the bags into the trunk before heading back into the house, feeling like he was walking to his execution.

When he stepped into the foyer, his eyes went straight to Abby and Charlie, embracing by the stairs. He sighed and turned to Bob, shaking his ex-brother-in-law’s hand before turning to Buttercup, who was watching her daughters with a sad sort of smile.

A gentle hand on her shoulder pulled her attention to him right as he pulled her into a hug. She folded into him the same way she always had, like she belonged there. Jake told himself that her trembling was because he was soaked to the bone, and if he felt moisture soaking into the front of his shirt, he told himself that was just the rain too.

She pulled away a few moments later, surreptitiously wiping at her eyes as she murmured, “It’s time to go, Abby.” She met his eyes for a fleeting second. “Thank you, Jake.”

“As you wish, sweetheart,” he murmured and escorted them onto the covered porch, where he gave Abby one more hug before pulling Charlie into his arms as they watched Bob, Buttercup and Abby make a run for the limo.

Bob held the door open as Abby slid in. Buttercup glanced over her shoulder at Jake and Charlie, standing like statues on the porch. She waved a sad goodbye before sliding in beside her daughter. Bob gave him an understanding nod before joining them and slamming the door shut. The limo roared to life and started down the dirt drive, rain and wind whipping at the windshield as they went. Abby and Buttercup huddled together on the leather seats as Bob gave instructions to the driver, and then they were silent.

Jake’s chest heaved as he watched them go, watched two-thirds of his heart walk away from him again.

“Wait!” Charlie cried, throwing off his hold and taking off down the wet and muddy driveway. “Mom, wait!” Jake lunged after her, grabbing her up in a hug as the limo disappeared between the trees, the falling rain too loud for them to hear her pleas.

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[her-power]

So Called Chaos (Part One: Modern single dad! e.m x fem reader)

❤️‍🩹🚨‼️18+ Minors DO NOT interact ‼️🚨❤️‍🩹

Trigger warnings/content warnings: Talk of suicide, talk of death, grief, hurt, comfort. Talk of PPD/PPA. Smut will come later, not explicit but sensual I guess? (warning now) strong language, angst, fluff.

Summary: This takes place in modern times. Eddie & reader are in early 30s. Eddie is raising his two year old son, Hunter, alone while coping with the death of his son’s mother who he had a complicated relationship with. He runs into an old friend at the bookstore (the reader) and memories of their time together as teenagers flood his brain to a point where he cannot stop thinking about her and the what if’s. This blossoms into a beautiful rekindled friendship and potentially something more.

Word Count: 5.1K

Thirty-four-year-old Eddie Munson hovers over the crib, his eyes bloodshot, he was so tired, but he always made sure to watch him fall asleep. His sweet son, Hunter. He was turning two years old tomorrow. Two whole years. Eddie couldn’t imagine him not existing, even if it didn’t start out the way he wanted to. Hunter’s mother had died six months after he was born; it was a subject Eddie didn’t talk about with many people. Not even his friends. Olivia was sick, she was tired, she thought the easiest way was to just disappear forever. He was angry at her, but he had loved her. In a way they only knew how to love one another. 

Hunter was the best thing that ever happened to him. He reaches his hand over to his face, gently caressing the spot between his eyes, his brown curly hair lined his face perfectly. His lips puckered while he slept, and he would go into random laughing fits in his sleep. Eddie would tell him that it was grandma making him laugh from Heaven. He sighs, taking the video monitor and putting on the white noise machine. 

He walks downstairs and plops himself onto the couch. 

“You’re doing good, Eds.” The voice comes out of the shadows. 

Oh yeah, he also talks to the dead mother of his child. It was worse after she died, then it went away for awhile. Now, it’s been a daily occurrence. He isn’t sure if it’s his way of coping with her death or if he’s actually talking to her, but he wasn’t in the mood. 

“Go away.” He mutters. 

Olivia’s form reaches his peripheral vision, but he doesn’t turn his head. He couldn’t. The last time he did she didn’t look normal, she looked very dead. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers. 

“You keep saying that and I honestly don’t think you are.” He laughs, feeling tears form at the corners of his eyes, he sniffles them back. “It was your choice to leave us. Leave me alone.” 

“I just want you to be happy, Eddie.” Her voice is fading. 

“Who says I’m not happy?” He grumbles, glancing at the time on his phone. “Go say happy birthday to our son and then stay away.” 

He doesn’t feel her presence in the room, and he’s almost relieved. Their relationship was complicated, even before she got pregnant. They were just friends with benefits, met at the hideout and it became a weekly thing. He loved her, but he wasn’t in love with her. She felt the same, but they tried to make it work when she got pregnant. He noticed a change in her after Hunter was born, she stopped going to her postpartum appointments, had denied that she was depressed. She was a wonderful mother, but she didn’t think she was good enough. She said so in her note, and it has taken him over a year to prevent himself from lighting it on fire. 

He was grieving, he knew that. But he was grieving more so for Hunter not having a mother. Like himself. Robin has been a big help. She would show up unannounced, demand him to take a nap or shower and she would take care of Hunter. He didn’t say many words but when he would see her, he would say “Teetee”, Auntie was too hard for him right now. He sighs and texts Robin: 

Been hearing her again. 

His phone immediately rings and he groans, sliding it to answer. “You know I hate talking on the phone.” 

“I don’t care. When did it start up again?” He hears the beeping from inside her car and her door shut.

“Robin, you don’t need to come here, I’m fine.” Eddie groans, falling back on the couch, his long hair falling out of its half bun. 

“When did it start?” 

“I don’t know, two weeks ago maybe.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as soon as hears Robin huff. Demanding in the sweetest way possible why he didn’t tell her sooner, and if he needs her to come over more. “Robin…Robin…slow it down. I’m fine. I promise.” 

“Well, I’m still coming over.” 

Eddie groans. “I was just gonna smoke a joint and go to bed.”

“Okay, smoke a joint, I’ll be there in five.” 

She hangs up and Eddie sighs, running his fingers through his hair. He gets up from the couch, taking the video monitor with him and goes into the two-car garage. He turns the light of the garage on, his truck sat idle in one of the spaces and his Sweetheart, drum set, and musical equipment sat in the other spot. 

He lucked out finding this house; it was a fixer upper, and they gave it to him 3,000 dollars below the asking price. He was able to finish the basement; he did it all himself, with the exceptional help of Robin, Steve and Dustin. It was a two-floor cape house; covered in wall-to-wall carpet. Ripping it up was easy, adding new flooring was not. Uncle Wayne had helped with the rest, and Eddie had settled for area rugs and the house came together beautifully. Hunter took his first steps in the hallway; he got his first bump on his head on the kitchen cabinet when he didn’t know how to slow down when he was “running”. 

Eddie chuckles as he rolls the joint, at the time it wasn’t funny, because Hunter was screaming, and Eddie thought he had brain damage. He remembers Robin saying, “don’t react, don’t react…be calm”. And once he calmed down, Hunter calmed down and went about his business, finding his toy bus and playing with it in the living room. 

He lights the joint, inhaling on it deeply and letting it out slowly of his mouth. He hears Robin’s car pull on the driveway and he carefully lifts up the garage door, her lights blinding him. He waves at her to shut them off and she flicks the high beams at him twice just to add some extra annoyance. 

She giggles, coming out of the car, holding two plastic bags of snacks and drinks. He takes them from her, immediately opening the popcorn. 

“You really didn’t have to come here.” He says, chewing on the popcorn and then inhaling on his joint. He passes it to her, and she takes it willingly. 

“I’m on vacation and Vicky is away for the weekend with her sister.” She passes the joint back to him as they walk back into the garage. “Plus, you need a day off.” 

“I’m on vacation too.” He grumbles, and he was, he took two weeks off from the record shop he co-owned just to spend more time with Hunter and potentially start writing music again. 

“Dude, I mean like a day off.” She says, passing him a soda from the bag. “Me and Hunter can have an auntie day, and you can go run errands or go scream in the woods.” 

Eddie chuckles. “Screaming in the woods does sound appealing.”

“Please just take the day for yourself, man.” She tells him kindly, both finishing off the joint and walking back inside. “You need it.” She peels off her jacket, it was springtime, but the nighttime air was still a bit chilly. 

“I don’t want to put a burden on you, Rob. He can be a handful, and it’s his birthday.” He tells her, moving his way to the living room to check the monitor. 

“He’s obsessed with me. He saves the tantrums for you. I’m not saying go out for the whole day, just go do something for you for a couple hours, and then we can have cake when you get back.” She pats his shoulder, and he laughs. They both sit on the couch; Eddie puts on a music documentary for background noise. 

He feels her eyes on him, and he turns his head to look at her. “Go ahead, ask the question.” 

“Are you really okay?” She asks him, pulling her knees up to her chest. 

He sighs, leaning back on the couch. “Okay in what sense?” 

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m okay when I’m with Hunter. When he giggles at something he finds funny, when he grabs my face just press his forehead against mine, when he hugs me. Nighttime lately has been…lonely, I guess.” He groans, hating that he was opening up like this, but Robin could unfortunately read him like a book. 

“Do you miss her?” 

“Of course I do.” He says, sighing loudly after he hesitates. “I miss having a partner, she was so good. And Hunter loved her…” His throat clenches, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m pissed at her for robbing him of a mother. I’m fucking angry, Robin. She had the help in front of her, I don’t understand.” 

Robin is silent for a moment. “Sometimes it’s hard for some people to get out of that darkness. Being in constant pain everyday and just trekking along. It wasn’t your job to save her, Eddie.” 

“I could never leave him like that.” His voice trembles. “He’s everything to me.” 

“And he was everything to her.” Robin says, leaning over to grab his hand. “But sometimes, that isn’t enough.” 

“Well, it should’ve been.” He wipes his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore, the more I talk about her the angrier I get.”

“Has Hunter talked about her?” 

And…we’re still talking about her. 

“Not really, he will stare at her picture and smile. His eyes twinkle like hers, that bright blue mixed with green. It’s beautiful.” He tries to smile. “I just feel like his life is already gonna be fucked up because of this and because I’m his dad.” 

“You’re a great father, Eddie.” 

He’s quiet. 

“I question it sometimes.” 

“Well, you shouldn’t. That little boy loves you.” She squeezes his hand. “I don’t know a thing about being a parent, but I know my parents, and they sucked. It’s not easy, but you’re doing your best.” 

He rolls his eyes, groaning, laying his head against her shoulder. “Can’t you just let me be self deprecating for once? I hate that you’re a nice person sometimes.” 

“I hate that you’re mean to yourself. You’re my best friend, and I wish you would just see what I see.” 

“I need to write again.” He sighs. 

“So, write. Go somewhere tomorrow and do that.” She rests her head against his. He pats her knee, sighing. 

“Fine. I will do that…after I express some more self-deprecating behavior.” 

“You’re so annoying, dude.” She laughs, shoving him away. 

“It’s your fault for wanting to be my friend.” 

***

Hunter had woken later than usual; he was happy and giggling and as soon as he saw Robin’s face, he squealed with delight. Eddie had put on one of Hunter’s favorite songs, Let’s Dance by David Bowie and the two of them danced and sang the song to him with goofy faces which made him have full belly laughs. It took Eddie a few pushes from Robin before she could get him out of the house. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to go, but as he drove, he realizes he hasn’t been to the bookstore in a while. He had bought a lot of his music books back in the day from there, along with anything that had to do with the Lord of the Rings. He pulls into the parking lot and steps out, adjusting his jeans and his Knocked Loose t-shirt. As soon as he steps in the doorway, he is hit with a familiar aroma of books. He forgot how soothing it was to just stand there and take it all in. 

He wasn’t sure where to go first; they had done a lot of rearranging of the place. He settled with heading to the children’s section first. He felt like a little kid himself, remembering how it felt to open a new book and see the pictures pop out from the pages. He had a pile in his arms, one of the workers had to give him a basket so his arm wouldn’t fall off. He found children’s board books called Baby Bowie, Baby Janis and Baby Elvis. He found a children’s book rendition of the Goonies and Back to the Future, as well as a cute store about a pack of baby wolves in the woods. He exits the area, completely distracted by his next his adventure into the horror section when he accidentally collides with a woman in the aisle. He drops his basket, as well as causing her to drop her pile of books. 

“Oh shit, I am so sorry.” He tells her, squatting down to help her pick up up the books. 

“No, no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

That voice.

Eddie looks up. 

Your voice. 

The two of you lock eyes; Eddie almost topples over. 

“Oh my god…Eddie?!” You squeal with delight, getting to your feet and Eddie follows, lifting you off your feet as he hugs your waist tightly. He was almost shaking; it had been close to twenty years since he last laid his eyes on you. 

He pulls away to look at you and he smiles. “You haven’t changed.” 

You blush. “Neither have you.” You curl a piece of his hair in your finger. He stares at you and is having a hard time trying to find words as he hands your books to you. 

“How-how long are you in town for?” He asks you quietly, still smiling. 

“Oh, uh…permanently.” You say with a small laugh. “I moved into my parents house…my mom died a few years ago and my dad had to go to nursing home.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He says sadly, grabbing your hand. “I didn’t know.” 

“I wouldn’t expect you to come, Eddie. You got your hands full. How’s your son?” You smile sweetly at him, and his heart does a pitter patter. 

“He’s awesome. He’s two today. He’s at my house hanging out with Robin.” 

“Robin Buckley? How is she?” 

“She’s great, getting married next year to Vicky.” 

Eddie had heard that you were married a few years ago, but he didn’t want to pry when he didn’t see a ring on your finger and the admission that you were living with your parents. You smile, shaking your head and taking out your phone. “You probably should be getting back to Hunter. I would love to catch up though.” You ask him for his number which he gives willingly, and you send Eddie a melting face emoji and he giggles. 

“Got it.” He smiles at you, and you smile back. You sigh, going up on your toes to hug his shoulders. “It was so good to see you.” 

Eddie squeezes your waist, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. It has been a long time since another man held you like this. You pull away and say your goodbyes, going your separate ways. 

Eddie is still dumbfounded when he gets home, he couldn’t believe he ran into you. Robin notices the look on his face, and he tells her everything. 

“Whoa dude, the one who got away.” 

“I mean, not really.” He says, moving Hunter’s curly hair out of his eyes and kissing his forehead. “The only thing that happened was we kissed, and that was short lived because the cops came to break up the party in the woods.” 

“Kissed key word. Steve and I had been rooting for the two of you that whole summer.” 

Eddie laughs. “We were just friends at that point.” He pulls Hunter in his arms, rocking him gently and he lays his head against Eddie’s chest, ready to fall asleep for his afternoon nap. Eddie stares at Hunter, taking him all in as he sometimes does. His beautiful round cheeks, his full lips. The dimples he got from Eddie, so much more prominent. His bright blue eyes stare into his, and his little hand goes up to cup his cheek and Eddie kisses his palm. Robin was watching her best friend from the background, knowing that his little moment he was sharing with Hunter was a moment just for them. Eddie begins singing a soft melody to him, and by the time he’s finished, Hunter is sound asleep in his arms. 

Eddie had placed him in his pack and play in the living room, covering him with his favorite blanket. 

“Go write some music.” Robin says gently. “I’ll hang in here with him.” 

Eddie nods, gently squeezing her hand. “Thank you.” 

Eddie walks in the garage, sighing as he takes a pack of cigarettes he had hidden in the cabinet. He barely smokes anymore, but when he needs to write something, a buzz from nicotine will usually do the trick. He sits down on the stool behind the drum set, laying his composition notebook on the snare drum, opening it to a blank page. He lights up the cigarette, letting the fire burn his lungs. He closes his eyes, slowly letting out the smoke. He takes the cap off his pen with his teeth and hovers it over the blank page. 

A sound of a beer can opening…

A cute laugh…

He stares off for a moment, remembering…

A long time ago…

Eddie sits on a broken tree limb, smoking a cigarette and sipping his beer, staring at the bon fire. He was seventeen, sitting by himself while watching his friends socialize. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize tonight; he was already in a bad mood, but Robin and Steve really wanted him at the party. His dad had called from prison, asking Eddie to wire him some money for his canteen. Eddie told him to fuck himself, and his father ended the call to tell him it was the anniversary of his mother Elizabeth’s death. Which he had forgotten about. And he was oddly overcome with so much sadness and grief he didn’t know how else to process it besides sulking. Eddie feels a presence next to him, and turns to see you, gripping an empty beer bottle. 

“Walk with me.” You mutter quietly. 

“What?” Eddie asks you, confusion setting in but also concern on why your hands are trembling. “Are you okay?”

“No.” You whisper. “I’m pretty sure one of the dudes over there drugged me…please just walk with me.” 

A burning rage fills up Eddie’s lungs as he looks over at the crowd of football players, passing small glances over at the two of you. Eddie couldn’t fathom why someone would do that…especially to someone like you. Eddie stands up, about to walk over there but you grab his denim jacket in a tight fist. 

“No, Eddie. Walk with me.” You tell him, desperation in your tone and Eddie lets out a sigh and nods. You drop the beer bottle when he takes your hand and the two of you walk down a dark path towards where the moon overlooks the lake. 

You lean against a tree; Eddie watches you as you take in a few deep breaths. He walks towards you, gently taking your hand. 

“Walk me through it, are you feeling it?” He asks you carefully. 

“I don’t know…maybe? My legs feel weird. I know I’m drunk, but my heart won’t stop racing. I feel like I’m gonna get sick.” 

“If you puke it will dial down the effects of the drugs.” Eddie tells you gently, the rage still burning. “Who was it?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You say, hiccuping and then holding your stomach. “Some douche bag.” 

“I need a name.” 

“No, you don’t, what you need is to hold my hair back because if you keep talking, I’m gonna throw up on your shoes.” You awkwardly stumble into him as you clench your stomach with your arm, and you feel the bile rise to your throat and the vomit come out like a faucet. Eddie’s holding your hair and gently rubbing your back as you violently puke behind the tree. When you feel like you have nothing left from your insides, you groan, leaning back against the tree. You didn’t feel like you were going to black out anymore, but the slight high was still there. 

“There’s…water…in my bag…” you tell him quietly. “Can you get it for me, please?” 

Eddie nods, going through your bag and handing you a steel water bottle. You chug it; Eddie tells you to slow down so you don’t puke again but you wave him off. You slide down to your bottom on the cool ground, your legs covered in dirt. “Thank you.”

“Now will you tell me who it was?” 

You giggle. “No. It’s over with. I’m the idiot who took a drink from a stranger at a party in the woods.” 

“Don’t victim blame.” Eddie tells you with a smirk. 

“I’m not a victim. You, Eddie Munson were my knight and shining armor who rescued me.” You giggle at how ridiculous you sound. “Sorry, I’m still drunk and I’m trying to keep it together.” 

Eddie laughs, sitting next to you. His heart doing a pitter patter as he stares at you. Steve and Robin had introduced you to him two summers ago. You had hung out together but never alone like this, he couldn’t get over your beauty. Even in the moonlight, your features were breathtaking. 

“Are you okay?” You ask him quietly. “You’ve seemed a little off all night.” 

Eddie is caught off guard by your question. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He smiles at you, taking out his cigarettes. 

“Those are bad for you.” You smirk at him. “Haven’t you seen those commercials?” 

“Yup.” He laughs, twirling the lighter in his hands. “I won’t smoke if it bothers you.” 

“No, it’s fine, cause I’m probably gonna ask you for one.” You laugh. 

“But these are bad for you.” Eddie teases and you gently nudge him with your foot. 

“Give me one.” 

Eddie laughs, taking two from his pack, and handing you one. He lights yours first, the flame illuminating your face as you inhale deeply, you only cough a little and you lean your head back against the tree. The two of you sit in silence, your anxiety was subsiding. His presence alone was making you feel safe, comfortable. 

“I was thinking about my mom.” Eddie tells you after a moment and you glance over at him, he’s not sure why he told you, he guesses he just needed to say it out loud. “Today is her anniversary…and I forgot. So, I feel like a shitty son.” 

You lean closer to him. “I’m sorry.” 

Eddie shrugs. “It’s just a lifelong thing I have to deal with I guess.” 

You inhale on the cigarette, letting it billow from your nostrils. “My dad lost both of his brothers during Vietnam. His older brother got killed over there and his other brother came home but never left until he took his life. I remember being young and asking him how it feels to grow up without them, how they stay the same age, and he gets older, approaching their ages year after year. I think I caught him off guard because it took him awhile to say what he said. But he said, ‘it feels like being trapped in a current, one side of the water is pulling you towards where you don’t want to go, and the other side is fighting against you. You can either swim with all your might to avoid it until you’re exhausted, or you can let the current slowly carry you. That’s what grief is, it’s never ending, sometimes it’s okay to fight against it, but sometimes it’s not. It’s just empty love’.” 

Eddie stares in awe at you, feeling tears creep up into the corners of his eyes. “Wow. I never thought of it like that.” 

“Me either, but I’ve also never lost anyone.” You sigh, glancing at his solemn face. “She must’ve been an amazing woman.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie hesitates. “From what I remember. She’s why I love music, so I guess when I play music or write songs, I take her with me.” 

You smile, and gently rest your head against his shoulder. He tenses a little but relaxes, resting his cheek against the top of your head. This felt natural to you, and it surprisingly felt natural to Eddie. You didn’t even know what time it was, and in that moment you didn’t care. You could stay curled next to him forever. 

“Will I feel like this tomorrow?” You whisper. 

His curly hair tickles your forehead. “You’re probably gonna have a headache in the morning. Drink a lot of water.” 

“I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there…or if my first instinct wasn’t to come find you.” You lean your head up to look at his face and he meets your eyes, his heart racing over how close your faces were. “Thank you.” 

Eddie smiles, gently squeezing your hand. “Don’t need to thank me. You could give me a name though.” 

“Nope.” You laugh and he sighs, shaking his head. 

“I’m gonna find out eventually.” He says, snuffing the cigarette out on a rock. 

“And you’re going to do nothing because I told you to do nothing.” You say, meeting his brown eyes, staring at them and he stares back at you. “Did you know that your eyes have a bit of gold in them? They’re beautiful.” 

Eddie blushes and giggles. “You’re just drunk.” He bumps you with his shoulder. 

“No, well, yes but…I never noticed them before.” You move your hand up to cup his face and he almost flinches. “There’s a lot I didn’t notice before.” 

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, carefully turning towards you so your knees are touching. He lifts his hand to curl a piece of hair behind your ear and you tremble. You lean towards his lips, and he pulls back a little, cupping your cheek. “Are you sure? You’re still drunk, I don’t want you to—"

“Just kiss me, you dork.” You laugh and he smiles shyly. He leans carefully towards you, slightly trembling as his soft lips press against yours. A thousand volts goes through your entire core as you kiss him, and he wonders why he never got the guts to kiss you before now. The kiss deepens, and you push your body closer to his as he cups the back of your head. His other hand grips your waist, and you sigh, sitting on his lap. 

“COPS!” 

Someone yells as they run past you two, and your lips pull away quickly. You could hear the sirens by the fire and the sound of walkie talkies. The two of you scramble to your feet, you grab your bag, and he takes your hand, both going into a sprint through the woods. You couldn’t stop laughing, the excitement of kissing him as well as the adrenaline from escaping the cops was making you feel all kinds of giddy. When the two of you felt comfortable enough to slow down, you both end up on a quiet road, which was near your house, the silence was calming, and you had to catch your breath from the laughing. 

“That was insane.” You laugh. “I’ve never run from the cops before.” 

“It’s a cake walk for me now.” Eddie laughs, taking your hand as you two walk silently towards your street. Thunder booms over head, rain begins to pelt you both. You laugh loudly as the rain becomes torrential and you’re running again to the sidewalk in front of your house. He walks you to the front door, the awning shielding you both from the rain and you giggle, moving your wet hair from your face. 

Eddie laughs, picking a piece of a leaf that landed in your hair. You smile at him, clearing your throat. 

“I had a lot of fun.” You tell him and he smiles. 

“Yeah, me too.” He grins. “Are you gonna be okay?” 

“I’ll be fine. I’ll message you if I need you to pull me out of a black out.” You joke. 

“Don’t scare me because I will sleep outside your window.” 

You smile at him, gently patting his face. “Thank you for everything, Eddie.” 

Eddie gently cups your chin, smiling. “Don’t need to thank me.” 

You laugh, shaking your head, opening your screen door quietly. You stop at the door, looking up at him. You lean up on your toes, kissing him softly on the lips and open your front door. You wave to him from your foyer, telling him to text you when he got home safely. 

Eddie walked through the rain that night with a smile on his face, still feeling the tingle of your lips against his. 

It was a feeling he hasn’t felt before, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to lose it yet. 

Eddie groans, closing his notebook. He didn’t write anything, he was in a daze, thinking of you, remembering that kiss. The kiss that sealed the deal that you were the girl of his dreams, but then life happened, you never really saw each other again. But he always thought about you, always wondered what if, even when he was with Olivia. He sighs, taking his cell phone out of his pocket and scrolling to the text message you had sent him earlier. 

He didn’t know what to say, or what to ask. He didn’t know if it was too soon to reach out to you or if you were waiting for him. Coffee was innocent enough, right? He needed to find a babysitter first, only for a few hours. He couldn’t ask Robin again, he felt too bad, but he knew she would say yes. He felt extremely guilty suddenly; he shouldn’t be leaving him with babysitters. 

“Text her.” Olivia’s voice comes out of the shadows and Eddie gasps loudly, falling off the drum stool. 

“Fuck.” Eddie says, catching his breath. “Go away.” 

“Not until you text her.” He could feel her presence, and his hands tremble as he keeps his eyes fixed on the high hat. He knew she was right behind him, but he wouldn’t look. 

“You’re an actual nightmare.” He mutters, reaching for his phone. 

“Take Hunter with you if you have to.”

“No, I don’t want to confuse him.” 

“How would you confuse him?”

“She’s not you.” Eddie says, his heart slowly breaking.

“No, she’s not. But, Eddie…this will be good for you, for both of you.”

Eddie stares at the blinking cursor on the text thread, his fingers hovering over the keypad. He doesn’t feel Olivia’s presence anymore and quickly types up a message, hitting send.

Hi, I’m not sure if you have plans or not tomorrow, but would you like to meet for coffee in the morning? There’s a café near my house where they have cake pops that Hunter loves. I hope you don’t mind that he tags along.

She responds immediately: Why would I mind? He’s your son. Of course I would love to meet for coffee. 8am okay?

Eddie smiles. That sounds perfect. 

[andavs]

One last unhinged theory before the finale kicks off, inspired by @captain-hen’s genius anon: witness protection

Councilwoman Olivia Ortiz is back for reasons, maybe she’s running for mayor or something

She’s buried the details around her son’s death while running a tough on crime platform or maybe getting drugs out of the city, but she’s actually corrupt and has some shady criminal connections

There’s a warehouse fire that’s related to something she’s connected to, 118 responds and they find evidence that wasn’t fully destroyed—not about Ortiz specifically, but something shady happening there

A Bad Guy sees the names Wilson, Han, and Diaz on their turnouts as they're talking to the cops and handing over the evidence they found—maybe Buck and Bobby were in a different section of the building at the time

Ortiz realizes that’s also the team that responded to her son’s accident and they can bring down her entire career if they figure out she’s involved

Her shady connections realize that if she goes down, their pull with the local government also goes down, so they take matters into their own hands to protect their interests

The shady contacts organize a way to take out Hen, Chimney, and Eddie, but Ortiz goes to Athena to warn them because she doesn’t want three innocent people to die

To keep the bad guys from continuing to pursue them or going after anyone else, they fake that the murder plot worked and announce that Hen, Chimney, and Eddie all died in the line of duty

They get one last goodbye at the station before they get hustled into nondescript vans and taken into protection while Athena builds a case with Ortiz to bring down her criminal connections

Their families know they’re actually alive but have to keep up the facade of grieving, and also they’re apart and can’t communicate with each other, except maybe sending rare messages/photos through Athena that they don’t get to keep. 

It’s a storyline that gives everyone something to do:

Hen, Chimney, and Eddie are suddenly isolated somewhere new and living under new names

Chimney finally married the love of his life and now they can’t even be together until the case is finished, and now he’s the one watching Jee grow up from afar

Maddie’s completely on her own with Jee for the first time since her PPD, but now she’s totally got this mom thing down—she just has to juggle that with work so maybe we get more of the Lees!

Hen and Karen have Mara who’s only just getting comfortable with them, only for Hen to be taken away and for Karen to suddenly have to handle all of it by herself

Who is Hen when she’s not a firefighter, paramedic, or mother? 

Eddie’s finally over Shannon and ready to move forward and then he’s yanked out of his life and completely isolated, probably working as a mechanic or something

Buck has to move into Eddie’s house with Chris and actually take on the role of full time parent, even though they both know Eddie will be back in a few months

(Maybe Buck and Eddie had a Moment but all of this happened before they got to talk about it and now they can’t talk about but they both know something shifted but will it still be shifted when all of this is finally over?)

Athena’s working on a seriously high profile case and all the dangers that come with it

Bobby’s holding the remains of his team together while knowing it’s temporary, and also probably still recovering from whatever the fuck is about to happen to him, if not physically then mentally

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

can you do headcanons for sdv bachelors when their wife is struggling w ppd after giving birth to their kids? tyy!

Sure, thanks for the ask, dear anon! ❤️

_________________________________________

SDV bachelors x Farmer with PPD (Postpartum depression):

In fact, Harvey was prepared for this scenario (though he hoped it wouldn't happen). From the beginning, he had prepared himself in advance for all the possibilities that could occur during Farmer's pregnancy, at the time of birth, and after it all. So when his wife showed the first symptoms, he didn't hesitate to contact a psychiatrist he knows who helps with postpartum depression, and will give Farmer everything she needs to keep her from suffering. Harvey is there for her and will not leave his love alone with the trouble.

Sam started to panic at first because he couldn't understand what had happened to Farmer: what had upset her so much, why was his spouse crying all the time? But luckily he pulled himself together quickly and called his mom. Jodi knew immediately what it was, as she had PPD after Vincent was born, so she explained to Sam how to help Farmer. Luckily, Farmer had a mild form of it, so they both got through it without difficulty. But the young father still ran around Farmer and their baby like a protective hen, because he loves his wife and their kid and doesn't want them to be sad.

Elliott notices the changes in mood , and therefore reacts instantly. The writer immediately encourages Farmer's thoughts about going to the doctor, and he himself does everything so that his wife is not stressed even more: takes care of the newborn baby while the mother sleeps, prepares formula, the first to volunteer to do the work. Most importantly, Elliott doesn't take a step away from Farmer, constantly reminding her that she's a great parent and that it's not her fault she feels like that. They can work through this together, he believes that.

Farmer wad constantly tired, sad, and weak after pregnancy, so Shane took all the work and care of the child on himself, giving his wife a rest. However, seeing that she was not getting better, and even on the contrary, he immediately began to persuade to visit the Harvey's Clinic. The doctor then helped Shane and gave him the number of a good specialist who helped him deal with his depression, Shane is sure that Harvey has contacts and those who will help Farmer. In the meantime - chicken man won't move a step away from Farmer, showing her that he feels her pain too, that he loves her and won't leave her in her darkest moment. Just like Farmer didn't leave Shane back then.

Sebastian at first thought his dearest spouse was just tired. After all, pregnancy was always a stressful experience, especially for the mother. But after Farmer's condition got even worse, Sebby turned to his mom for help, because something is not right. Robin explained that it was PPD, a condition she was in after Sebastian was born and when she had no one around to help (divorcing her abusive ex-husband). Under her advice, the young father fulfilled everything to give Farmer all the support and help he needed.

Farmer, what's wrong? Why is Alex's wife is so upset, or saying that she is a bad mother? That's not true, his wife is a great parent and they had a wonderful baby! So what's wrong? Alex began to panic, deciding that he was already failing Farmer as a husband and their child as a father. Until George barked at his grandson to pull himself together and get help. Grandpa is right, so Alex booked Farmer in to see Dr Harvey for a check-up. The athlete listened carefully about what postpartum depression was, the doctor's insistence on what he should do, and Alex quickly complied with everything, not forgetting to remind Farmer that he loved her and their baby more than anything.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buddie: 4x13 Recap in preparation for 7x9 (other ships included too)

Ok... I'm intrigued for the last two episodes now after reading the journalists' commentary who've previewed the episode. MG said 7x9 and 7x10 should have been billed as a two part finale and the GIF he used to describe it in one word was "Pain". Also, KP said it seems like they're picking up "old threads" that weren't properly explored. Well... I REMEMBER THERE'S A LOT THAT WASN'T EXPLORED BETWEEN BUCK AND EDDIE 👀 (more on them below).

I've been thinking about 4x13 and the whereabouts of all the 'ships during that episode to parallel them with 7x9 and here goes. (Buddie is last just like they were at the end of 4x13).

Bathena

4x13 - Bobby and Athena were on the outs because in 4x12, Athena mentioned after she was attacked by Jeffrey in 3x17, she was offered early retirement but she turned it down. She never told Bobby about it. They ARGUED for the first time in 4x13 and they were still arguing when Hen called Bobby in 4x14 to tell him Eddie had been shot.

7x9 - Bobby's struggling with his past and Athena's worried about him just like she was worried in 4x13 that he was hiding something from her. It's possible from the 7x9 sneak peek that Bobby might be having delusions of someone being after him.

Henren

4x13 - Toni (Hen's mother) got sick and she fainted. Hen's medical school classmates helped her figure out what was wrong with her. After she was admitted to the hospital, Toni told Hen, the medical field needed more African American doctors.

7x9 - Hen and Karen have a foster child named Mara. Reminder, they had just given Nia back to her mother earlier in season 4 and Hen struggled with it because she didn't want her to go back to Evangeline.

Madney

4x13 - Maddie was struggling with PPD and she was going through it. She was still going to work but Chimney wasn't aware of how much she was struggling until she told him. Maddie quit her job in 4x14 and in 7x7 she told Amir she used to be a nurse.

After 7x6, Madney is in a happy place so it's unclear what, if anything, they could be struggling with in 7x9.

Buddie

4x13 - Buck and Eddie’s storylines were the most intense, the most intertwined and the biggest. Reminder, Eddie didn't breakup with AF after Carla told him to follow his heart and not Chris'.

AF found out Charlie's mother was swindling people out of their money which led to Eddie figuring out she was poisoning him.

He told Buck and Chimney about it and Buck didn't even put on his uniform, he just left with Eddie.

Captain Jeshan Mehta and the 133 were dispatched to the call and Buck drove the Batallion SUV to the scene with Eddie in the passenger's seat.

Then the 3 minutes and 17 seconds that changed everything. It showed the audience that Buck and Eddie are in love with each other and if they missed it, they should rewatch the episode.

Eddie reached for Buck and in 4x14, he asked him if he was hurt.

7x9 - Eddie didn't breakup with Maris*l in 7x5 like he should have the same way he didn't breakup with AF in 4x13 like he should have.

The 133 will be on a scene in 7x9 or 7x10 and it'll be interesting to see if Captain Mehta will be there too.

Also, Eddie’s either having delusions that the woman he met either looks like Shannon or he thinks she does. This parallel with Bobby appears to be mental instead of physical this time, so if history is about to repeat itself, then it's likely Bobby and Eddie could both be suffering from delusions. Reminder, Bathena and Buddie ALWAYS PARALLEL EACH OTHER.

If TM is really about to redo a scene for Buck and Eddie that will rival the shooting and explore EVERYTHING THE F*X NETWORK WOULDN'T LET HIM DO WITH BUCK AND EDDIE THREE YEARS AGO THEN... THIS IS ABOUT TO BE EPIC!

IYKYK Buck and Eddie are in love with each other and if Eddie gets hurt again, EVERYBODY IS GOING TO SEE IT THIS TIME INCLUDING T*MMY, HELENA, RAMON AND THE 118.

The will was revealed in 4x14 and maybe it's meaning will be explored in 7x10 along with the reason why Eddie waited a whole year to tell Buck about it. It's possible it will come into play again before the end of the season, especially if Eddie's badly injured this time and the Diaz parents show up. If Helena thinks she's taking Chris to El Paso with them, she'll be WRONG because Buck’s his legal guardian.

Reminder, the 133 was there the last time but this time they'll be with their found family and Buck can't hide his feelings for Eddie, like EVER especially when he's injured or hurt.

In 7x6, the foreshadowing was there when he thought Eddie was dead while he was lying in the bathtub.

These are pictures of Buck’s face whenever Eddie’s hurt.

T*mmy doesn't have a chance with Buck because Buck and Eddie gave each other their hearts a long time ago and I can't wait until T*mmy sees it with his own eyes so he'll be gone. He won't be able to pretend Buck was trying to get his attention anymore because Buck’s going to go nuts if Eddie's hurt again. His heart will be on full display and there won't be any denying who he loves.

Buck loves Eddie Diaz and Eddie loves Evan Buckley!

I ONLY SHIP BUDDIE!

[honey-crypt]

Can you do a female farmer with PPD (Postpartum Depression) after giving birth to the bachelor's child/ren?

warnings: mental health crisis, intrusive thoughts, pregnancy and birth talk, hospitals

★ sdv bachelors with a farmer who’s suffering from ppd (postpartum depression) ★

alex

★ you had a hard delivery with your twins, they came a few weeks early and needed to stay in the nicu

★ the two of you visited your babies every single day but alex noticed how disconnected you seemed to be from the twins, unable to even hold them or feed them

★ the doctors informed him that you most likely had to postpartum depression so alex immediately stepped up and took care of the babies' feedings and such while you slept or went to your appointments; he made sure to take time to give you massages or kisses, you're his wife and he loves you

elliott

★ your whole pregnancy and the birth was pretty average but it didn't stop you from developing postpartum depression; elliott noticed that you would stay in your daughter's nursery for most of the time, rarely leaving unless it was to grab a snack/drink or to use the bathroom

★ he encouraged you to get rest and that he had it under control with the baby's care but you didn't let him until your daughter was crying her eyes out in your arms and immediately calmed down when elliott held her

★ you felt like a bad parent for not being able to care for your baby but elliott reassured you that it usually takes two to tango when it comes to childrearing and that you weren't less than as a mother for struggling with your mental health

harvey

★ he’s a doctor but when it comes to his wife, he can be pretty blind about many things and unfortunately one of those things was your postpartum depression

★ harvey didn’t realize how bad it was until he found you pacing around your son’s nursery and mumbling about what a terrible mother you were and how you wanted to end it all

★ he immediately went doctor mode after that and got you in with one of zuzu city’s best therapists who specialized in postpartum depression, as well as got a colleague of his from his medical school days to sub in at the clinic so he could focus on you and his/your son

sam

★ he wasn’t equipped or even knew what postpartum depression was or that it existed until he learned of your diagnosis after you were taken to the hospital for mental health treatment

★ he found you sobbing your eyes out about how your triplets were going to kill you and how you were such an unfit mother who deserved nothing; to which, sam had to take you to the hospital for your safety and the babies’ safety

★ jodi and kent took time out of their days to help sam with the triplets while you were getting help at the hospital; once you got back, they threw you a ‘welcome home’ party

sebastian

★ he learned the warning signs and ways to help from his mother robin, who suffered from postpartum depression after maru was born

★ immediately launched into action when you started displaying the warning signs, such as difficulty sleeping and staying away from your son

★ he connected you with robin and she was able to talk to you about her experience with postpartum depression; hearing that robin got through it was very good for you and you managed to stay on course without need with severe medical intervention

shane

★ your postpartum depression triggers his depression in a roundabout way but he’s able to empathize easily with being depressed

★ asked his own therapist for advice on helping you through your postpartum depression and was able to get you seen by a therapist specializing in postpartum mental health conditions

★ got marnie’s help to care for your/his daughter and he was able to step up to properly care for; while you were in treatment, he often took your daughter to marnie’s ranch and spent time with her, jas, and marnie

[munson-blurbs]

Love You Through It (Dad!Eddie x Mom Reader)

Summary: When you're struggling with postpartum depression, Eddie brings in some help. Just a little blurb.

Warnings: depression, anxiety, mention of pregnancy, Stancy is canon

WC: 915

A/N: I've struggled with depression, but not PPD. I tried to draw on my own experiences and what I've heard from others, and I hope I did this request justice.

--

On a Sunday morning, you wake up to the sound of Eddie's voice crackling through the baby monitor.

"Good morning, Melly Bean! Today's gonna be a beautiful day," he coos. You want to smile, soak in the way your husband dotes on your two-month-old daughter, but you just can't. It feels like there's something blocking you from feeling happy.

You roll over in bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. Eddie's baby talk fades from the monitor but gets closer to your bedroom door.

"You wanna go see Mommy? Show her how much you love her?" he asks, even pausing as if Melody can give an answer.

"Hi Mama Munson," Eddie calls to you from the doorway. "Someone wants to say 'good morning.'" His sweet smile morphs into a frown when he sees you burrowed into the blankets. "Sweetheart? What's going on?"

"Nothing," you insist, voice muffled by the layers covering you. "Just wanna sleep."

Eddie looks at you, concern evident all over his face. "Okay, love," he says finally, "we'll be in the living room if you need us."

You wait until after he closes the door to sob into your pillow.

~

"Hello?" Steve answers the phone groggily, glancing at the time. Only 7:30 AM; who could be calling at this hour?

"Harrington," Eddie''s visibly relieved by the sound of his friend's voice. "There's something wrong with Y/N."

Steve sits up immediately at this news. "What do you mean?" he asks, panicked. "Does she need to go to the hospital?" Eddie hears Nancy's quiet voice, and Steve repeats what Eddie just told him.

"I don't--I don't know if you go to the hospital for this," Eddie tells him. "She stays in bed all the time, she doesn't want to be with the baby, she barely eats..."

Nancy takes the receiver from her husband. "Eddie?" she says. "Hon, that sounds like postpartum depression."

Eddie's eyes widen. "What do I do? I've been trying to handle everything but I'm just so...tired," he admits. "It's a lot, but I don't want to make her feel worse."

"I'm coming over," Nancy says, throwing off her covers. "Give me half an hour, okay?"

Eddie nods before realizing she can't see him. "Thanks, Nance," he whispers.

~

Your bedroom door is nudged open, but instead of Eddie, Nancy's standing there.

"Can I come in?" she asks, and you nod slowly. It seems like everything is happening in slow motion these days.

She takes a seat next to you on the edge of the bed. "Eddie called us," she explains softly, rubbing your back. "He's worried about you, babe. We all are."

"'M fine," you lie, but it's no use trying to pull one over on Nancy.

"No," she shakes her head, "you're not. You should talk to your doctor, but I think you have postpartum depression."

"But how?" you cry out, voice catching in your throat. "I'd get it if I was alone, or there was something wrong with Melody, or the delivery..." You start to cry again, and you're genuinely shocked that you haven't dehydrated from all the tears you've shed. "But Eddie has been amazing, and the baby is happy and healthy, and my delivery was fine."

Nancy offers a small smile. "Unfortunately, it doesn't always work like that," she says. "It can happen to any new mommy, regardless of the circumstances."

"Nance, I feel so guilty all the time," you confide in a hushed whisper. "I want to do more, but it's like my brain and my body won't cooperate. And then it all falls on Eddie, which makes me feel even worse. Like..." you pause before allowing the truth to spill out, "like I'm failing at being a mom."

Your friend squeezes your arm gently. "You are not a failure," she reassures you. "We're gonna help you get through this, okay? This isn't your fault. If anything, it's Eddie's fault for getting you pregnant in the first place." she says with a giggle.

"I heard that!" Eddie calls out, peeking his head into the doorway. Nancy stands up when he comes in.

"You two get some rest, and I'll make some breakfast." She scoops up the baby monitor on her way out. "Don't worry about Melody; I'll take care of her if she needs me."

Eddie snuggles into bed behind to you and presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck. "You know I adore you, right?"

"Of course," you reply. "I'm sorry I haven't been showing you how much I adore you, Eds."

"My love, you carried our perfect daughter for nine months. What else can I ask for?"

"I don't know," you reply tersely, "maybe a wife who can take care of her baby, who can take care of herself?"

"And you will," he tells you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you impossibly close. "But right now, we're gonna sleep. And when we wake up, Nancy is gonna help us find someone you can talk to. Like a therapist or something," he clarifies.

You take his hand and kiss it. "Do you think Melody hates me?" you whisper.

"Hates you? Oh, baby, absolutely not," Eddie gives a little laugh. "She loves her mommy. And she knows how much I love you, too."

"And how much is that?" you tease, snuggling into him.

Eddie's peppering kisses all over your face, his curly hair and hint of stubble tickling your cheeks.

"Does that answer your question?"

--

[peachesofteal]

First Sight / Chapter 2

Chapter 2 of 2. Part five of the Sassy series. First chapter here.

Simon Riley/female reader - soft dad Simon Riley 4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI, PTSD, PPD, mentions of blood and violence, reader is a new mom, tenderness, fluff, complicated feelings, mentions of Percocet (no addiction or abuse), feelings of fear and anxiety, emotional hurt/comfort. Simon is here. Theo is here. There is nothing to fear.

The house is quiet. Practically silent, except for the ebb and flow of Simon snoring, the broad expanse of his chest combined with the crook of his elbow making a very comfortable sleeping spot for Theo apparently. It’s like white noise, you guess. You've heard of babies being lulled to sleep by the sound of the ocean, or rain, or even a vacuum cleaner, but you didn’t have to resort to any of those, the crackle coming from Simon’s nose more than enough.  

Which is great, because you’re exhausted. Or at least, you think you are. It’s hard to tell right now. Your abdomen is still sore, giant incision finally starting to close after six long weeks, and your brain never turns off, the darkness pulling at the edge your mind dragging you through hell almost every day, the bright spots few and infrequent. You feel haunted. You feel like a husk.

Ten fingers, ten toes, ten pounds. You stare at Theo in awe, his little face perfectly serene while he sleeps in your arms, and you lower your own to the crown of his head, skimming your nose across his tiny tuft of hair. You hold him close, pointer finger tracing as lightly as possible across the apple of his cheek, back and forth. It’s hard to believe he’s even real. Or that he’s here. That the two of you made it through, and that he now has a birthday, a name, ten fingers, and ten toes. 

This, whatever it is, is the strongest concentration of love you’ve ever felt in your life, that you’re sure of. Things that mattered before, don’t anymore. Things you were worried about in the past, don’t exist. The only thing that’s real is this baby in your arms, your baby, Simon’s baby, and you blink rapidly to hold back tears at the realization. 

“What do you think, mom? You ready for some pain relief so you can get some sleep?” The nurse asks, and Simon nods but doesn’t speak. You know he wants you to get some painkillers, that he’s having a hard time watching you wince and bite your lip to the point where you draw blood, but he also wouldn’t dare speak for you, even though you’re sure he wants to take over, take charge and make sure you get what you need. 

You did just have major surgery, and the other drugs have worn off, leaving you with searing pain in your stomach and cramps in your legs. 

But the idea of taking a Percocet makes you nervous, lights some uneasy fire in the back of your mind, and irrational but completely real fear buzzes in your nervous system. If you’re drugged, you’ll be loopy, and it makes you want to say no. The amount of pain your body is in fights against the resistance, and you glance at Simon hesitantly. Like he’s reading your mind, he reaches out to place a gentle hand on your thigh. 

“Nothing is going to happen if you take a pain pill. I promise.” He says encouragingly and you relent with a sigh. 

“Okay, yeah.”

“Sass?” It’s Simon, standing in the doorway, Theo in the sling that is his giant forearm. He sits comfortably there, perfectly snuggled against his dad, and it makes your heart clench. Simon is looking at you warily, like he doesn’t recognize you. Which is fair. You don’t even recognize yourself. “What’re you doin’ out here?” Where? You blink, processing the question. Here? Your toes wiggle, in grass, and you look around. Why are you in the backyard? At night? 

“Oh. I don’t know.” He’s holding his hand out to you, large fingers reaching for yours.

“Come inside.” He presses his thumb to your wrist, eyes closing before speaking again. “I think you should call the shrink.”

“No.”

“Sass. There’s nothing wrong with it, if you need to talk to someone.” You laugh weakly.

“That’s rich, coming from you.” You spit, tone edged in an eagerness to fight, and he tenses. Fuck. “I’m sorry.” Your shoulders slump. Stop being such a bitch. He’s doing practically everything for you right now. “I’m sorry. Really. I’m just… out of it.” You step closer, leaning your forehead into his chest, blinking down at the wriggling baby in his arm. Your son. You feel Simon’s nose in your hair, and then a heavy palm rests at the small of your back.

He inhales deeply.

“I know.”

Ten fingers, ten toes, ten pounds. You repeat it over and over for assurance, even though your son is sleeping comfortably in your arms, safe and healthy. Ten fingers, ten toes, ten pounds. It’s hard to believe you’re a mom now, someone who has a tiny, defenseless little human depending on you for everything. 

Well, not just you. 

You eye Simon, asleep in the chair less than a foot from the bed, head tilted back, mouth open. There’s a large white spot of baby vomit on the front of his black sweatshirt, and he’s sporting some serious undereye circles from being up with Theo as much as possible. He doesn’t let you lift a finger, which is fine considering you can’t even really get out of the bed without help, your giant incision still wrapped up and body still exhausted from surgery, two days later. 

On top of everything, something felt off. There was this feeling, a dark, lonely thing pulling at your limbs, trying to wring you out over and over, dragging you down into the dark of the deepest waters. You were frightened of it, the cycle of thoughts spiraling through your mind every time you closed your eyes, the inky blackness of dark feelings overtaking you from every direction. Were you going to be a good mom? Would you be able to take care of Theo? What if Simon wasn’t here? What if something bad happens? What if you die? What if Theo doesn’t love you? What if Simon leaves? What if you don’t like your own baby? What if you can’t bond with him? What if you suck at this? 

Theo gurgles, a small noise, and you try to shift to alleviate some of the pressure on your back. Pain zings through you, the sting of your muscles seizing, and you gasp, loud enough that Simon is jerking awake, eyes scanning the room until they land on you and your hopeless form. 

“Need help?” You nod miserably, and he lifts Theo away from your body while you try to get situated. You watch him rock the baby easily, settling into a natural rhythm like it’s nothing, and try not to feel irritated. He’s a natural. How is possible that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is so good at this and you’re a failure? Tears prick along your waterline, and you slam your eyes shut, but not before one escapes down your cheek. “Hey, what is it? What’s wrong?” A big, warm hand envelopes yours, and your emotions surge inside of you, sadness and love and anxiety swirling in your heart until you’re sniffling. 

“I’m sorry.” You sob and he looks stricken. 

“Sorry for what?” 

“For being such a mess.” 

“You just had a baby, Sass. And you have a huge wound in your stomach. You’re gonna be a mess for a bit.” 

“Yeah, b-but I can’t even take care of my… my own baby,” The words are slurred, pieced together through tears, and you try to catch your breath. He folds his hand around the back of your neck and leans forward, bringing Theo between your two bodies while your face nestles into him. “and you’re being so nice to me.” You cry aloud. 

“Shhh. It’s alright, sweet girl. You’re okay.” TWO babies. There are two babies in this stupid hospital room. You take a deep breath through your nose while Simon rubs your back, Theo blinking up at the two of you silently. “Did you get any sleep this morning?” 

“N- no.” He sighs as he pulls away, lips dragging across your temple gently and then up to your forehead to press a kiss there, soft and slow, lingering as long as he can. 

“I think you should try to get some sleep,” you shrug and wipe your eyes. “I’ll turn out the lights.”

“Wait.” Your hand shoots out to latch onto his in a panic. “Si. I- don’t go anywhere. Please?” 

“We’ll both be right here.” He assures you, folding your hand back into your lap with a squeeze before moving to flick the light off. “We’re right here, okay? Close your eyes.” He slides the reclining chair another half a foot closer to the bed, easing down into it with Theo secure in one arm, holding your hand with the other. He traces a thumb over the skin of your knuckles, and your eyes slip closed.

You’re home. You’re not in danger. Simon is here. Theo is here. There is nothing to fear. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, the straggly ends of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest beneath Simon’s t shirt. You’re home. You’re not in danger. Simon is here. Theo is here. There is nothing to fear. Your head is pounding, a headache ripping across the front of your brain, your stomach churning like you’re going to vomit up the breakfast you ate this morning. Your legs feel weak, or maybe it’s your body that feels heavy, but either way, you can hardly stand, leaning against the bathroom countertop for support. You focus on your breath, in and out, counting inhales and exhales, but there’s a buzzing sound in your ear, and the room suddenly feels dark, like your vision is cloudy.

When you close your eyes, you see a teenager walking towards you, a bomb wired to the vest he’s wearing.

You see Soap’s blood on your palms, you feel it slicking your skin up your forearms, you hear his grunts of pain as you pack his wound.

You see Simon outside the tent after you left, staring up at the helicopter as it took you away. You remember the unadulterated rage that coursed through your veins, the overwhelming feeling of anger that consumed your entire existence.

You see the faces of the first infantry troop you deployed with in the desert. The fresh-faced lieutenant, begging you to make sure his wife and kids get his death benefits while he dies in front of you, torso blown open, organs shredded by bullets. The private, from Louisiana, whose parents were long dead, but he told you about how sweet his baby sister was while the two of waited for a field medic that would be way too late.

You see your dad, the last time you ever saw his face, putting you on a plane to a country you knew nothing about while you screamed, your mother crying in his arms. The silver of the cross around his neck glinting in the afternoon sun.

You’re home. You’re not in danger. Simon is here. Theo is here. There is nothing to fear. 

There’s a knock on the door and you snap to attention.

“Sass?” You fix your face in the mirror as well as you can before answering.

“Yeah, coming.”

It’s the familiar ring of a facetime call that wakes you, your head foggy with the cotton of deep sleep. You squint at the caller ID, Johnny’s name popping up across the screen accompanied by the soap emoji.  

“Hi.” You answer, voice still a little groggy. Simon is already lifting Theo from the bassinet, depositing him on your chest gently, and giving your shoulder a squeeze before he slumps back in the chair. 

“Sassafras, look at ‘im.” Theo’s just visible in the screen, and Johnny is grinning, hand partially covering his face because his eyes are suspiciously wet. “You did a grand job lass.” You smile at him in thanks, and Simon grunts from the chair right next to the bed. “Where’s the big guy?” 

“He's here.” You angle the camera, and Simon cracks a small smile under the mask. 

“Hey Johnny.” 

“Ghost! Yer a lucky man, LT.” Simon looks to you, something soft shining in his eyes before it disappears. 

“Yeah.” He reaches over, hand laying gently over top yours where it rests on Theo's back.

“He’s ready to meet Uncle Soap, whenever you get leave next. Feel free to come over this way.” You chime. “We, uh actually wanted to talk to you about being his godfather...” 

“No, we don’t.” Simon barks but you shake your head, moving the camera back to you. 

“Yes, we do. Ignore him. It was his idea, Johnny.” You shoot him a look. 

“Ah you two, I’m honored.” There’s a noise in the background, something loud, and Johnny looks away quickly, before returning to the screen. “Gotta run. Miss ya Sassy, and the grumpy bastard.” 

“Bye, Soap. Be safe, stay frosty.” Theo cries just as Johnny hangs up, and you pat his back slowly, murmuring above his ear. 

“What is it?” You soothe. “Hungry?” You bounce him slightly, all you can do from the bed, before looking up at Simon imploringly. “Si…” 

“C’mere” He pulls the baby from your arms, tilting him onto his back at a good angle for the bottle, before settling down next to you on the bed. “Like a champ.” He says proudly, and you can’t help the grin that tugs at your lips. 

“He’s got a good appetite.” You push your finger into his tiny fist, and he grabs onto it reflexively. “Like his dad I guess.” You tease and Simon smirks, leaning down to plant a kiss across your cheek.

Theo is screaming on the monitor. Both of you jolt awake, and Simon is out of bed before you can even say anything, hall light flicking on and floorboards creaking under his feet.

You glance at the clock. 3:32 AM. Well, at least he made it three hours. There’s a beeping sound inside your ear, and you cringe, shaking it away as you fully wake. Anxiety immediately blooms in your mind, and you take deep breaths to calm your heart. You’re home. You’re not in danger. Simon is here. Theo is here. There is nothing to fear. You sit up slowly, shifting your hips until you’re fully upright, and Simon comes back.

“Hungry, I think.” He’s got Theo against his chest, blanket over his shoulder. His hair is all a mess, like the baby’s, and the sight of them together nearly makes you start crying. Your boys.

“Here.” You clear your throat. “I’ll take him, you grab the bottle?” He rubs his face sleepily and you rock Theo, trying to get his cries to calm down while you wait for the formula. “Shhh.” You make the hushing noise near his ear, to no avail.

The song comes easily. It’s not a lullaby, and you’re a shit singer, but since he was born, singing works better than humming, though you’re not sure why. You rock him in time with the beat you’re conjuring in your head, closing your eyes and imagining your voice is not terribly off key.

“I am not the only traveler, who has not repaid his debt. I’ve been searching for a trail to follow, again. Take me back to the night we met.” Theo cries, but more softly, a little hiccup shaking his chest. “And then I can tell myself, what the hell I’m supposed to do. And then I can tell myself, not to ride along with you.” You press a kiss to his forehead, stroking across the baby soft skin of his cheek. “I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met.” He’s gone silent, just looking up at you with big wide eyes now, and you smile down at him in the dim light of your bedside lamp. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, haunted by the ghost you. Take me back to the night we met.” 

When you look up, Simon’s standing in the doorway again, bottle in one hand, burp cloth in the other, frozen to the spot, staring at you.

“Hey.” He startles, like he was off somewhere else, and takes big strides until he’s sitting at your side, handing the bottle over. “Thanks.”

“Y-yeah.” He stutters, and you frown.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just tired.”

“I can put him back in the crib, if you want to lay down.” You gesture to his side of your bed, but he shakes his head.

“No, no. ’s fine.”

“You sure?” Theo sucks the bottle down with ease, and you prop him on your shoulder over the burp cloth. Simon leans forward, and presses his lips to your brow, hand resting on Theo’s back. He holds himself there, for a second, then two, and three, until he pulls away to touch his forehead to yours.

“I’m sure.”

The woman says your name, nodding at you from where she sits to the left of your bed.

“I’m Dr. Moreno. I’m a resident psychologist here, but I also do work for the VA.” You fight the urge to tell her to get the fuck out and choose to smile politely instead. “I understand you have some concerns about postpartum depression.” 

“Yeah.” Suddenly, you wished you hadn’t been so painfully honest on the questionnaire your OB gave you. 

“Are you currently receiving any treatment for your PTSD?” 

“No.”

“Are you interested in receiving treatment for PTSD?” 

“Not really, I’ve done therapy before.” She nods thoughtfully. 

“Did your doctor go over everything with you about C-section recovery?” 

“Yeah, she did.” Somewhere, in the very back of your mind, something tells you to be more forthcoming, to be more open with this shrink, but it gets shut down before it can become a full thought. 

“Okay. I am going to give you my card. It has my office number on it and my email. You can reach out to me anytime you need to.” You give her another polite, lackluster look. She sighs. “Being a new mom can be hard, even for those who don’t have histories of trauma. There is no shame in needing help.” 

“I know. Thank you.” You hold the card up like its proof that you’re listening, like you can be trusted to call if you think you’re in trouble. She gives you a sympathetic smile as she makes to leave, reiterating that she wants you to call her if you need to. 

A heavy knock sounds on the door, and then Simon is standing in the room, medical mask on his face, sleeping baby cuddled against him. Just the sight of him holding Theo cleaves your heart in two, and you hold your arms out to them both, anxious to be near them. He gives the doctor a look when she passes, and then raises an eyebrow at you. 

“You alright?” Theo cries and you motion with your hands so you can hold him. 

“Yeah. Just usual shrink stuff.”

“Alright, come off it. It’s not that funny.” Simon’s jaw flexes as you try to hold back the laughter and fail. It hurts your stomach, but at the same time, it feels great. It feels real.

“Oh my god. I’m so- sorry. For laughing, it’s just-“ you stare down at the mess of burnt food in the pan, eyebrows creasing in sympathy when you look back up at him. “You’re so sweet. Thank you.” He scowls.

“I’ll order takeout.”

“No, no you don’t have to. We can make something else.”

“No.” He turns to stalk away, and you’re hit with a wave of emotion out of nowhere, so strong that it nearly knocks you off balance, almost steals your breath. It feels familiar. It feels like Belize, and every second afterwards until he sent you away, it feels like waking up in the hospital to his face hovering over yours, it feels like watching him press his ear to your belly when Theo was still inside you. It feels like that night when the two of you sat on the roof of the safehouse in Belarus, after the botched extraction mission, the one that left him with twenty stitches in his thigh and you got that really bad burn on your arm. The roof where the two of you traded secrets, where he told you about his dad and you told him about yours. It feels like the night in Uruguay, when you and Johnny and him all went out and found a bar, when you got drunk and he pressed you against the brick wall in the alley, your legs wrapped around his waist, his face buried in your neck, whispering words you couldn’t quite hear under his breath. It feels like watching him cry in the operating room when he saw the baby for the first time, watching him become a dad, watching him beat the vicious cycle of trauma and abuse right before your eyes.

You wrap yourself around his waist before he can get too far away, molding your body to his back, and his hand comes down to where yours rests on his stomach.

“Sass?”

“Don’t. Just, stay here. Like this. For a minute.” He shifts, turning while keeping you pressed against him, until you’re resting your cheek on his chest, and he’s rubbing your back.

“You alright?” His voice is gentle, he’s always gentle with you now, and the realization makes the feeling grow even stronger.

“Yeah. I’m… Simon. I-“

Theo cries on the baby monitor. Insistent. Bossy, as Simon enjoys telling you, like his mum. 

You step away with a sigh.

“I’ll get him.” He kisses your forehead before heading up the stairs.

When he makes it back down, you’re scrubbing the pan out, charred food already deposited in the garbage can.

“There she is.” Simon says from behind you, and you turn to see Theo blinking in your direction, eyes wide and making little garbled cooing noises.

“Hi baby.” Simon shuffles him into your arms, and you sway side to side slowly. “You’re hungry.” You deduce, and he agrees with you, making an impatient crying sound, tiny fist swinging into the air. “I know, I know. Hang on.” You soothe. You settle yourself on the couch with a bottle, brushing against his cheek lightly to trigger the rooting reflex before plopping it in his mouth. He drinks greedily, eyes trying to slip shut once he’s had his fill, and Simon laughs from where he sits next to you.

“You’re good at this.” He says quietly. You balance Theo on your shoulder while you burp him, and then look at Simon like he’s off his rocker.

“Me?”

“Yeah, Sass.” He pauses. “And ya look good, holding my baby.” Your cheeks heat, and something clenches in your stomach. You shoot him a look and he grins like a fool, real happiness stretching across his face in spades. It’s beautiful, he’s beautiful, and you- “I know you’re struggling right now,” he pulls you out of your train of thought, eyes pensive, grin morphing into something bittersweet. “and it’s been hard, but… I’m here. For you. For Theo. I want us…” he trails off when Theo burps and you shift, cradling him back into a sleeping position. “I don’t know… what will happen, in the future, and I know I still got a lot, of making up to do. But I want this. With you. I want us to… be a family.” You study his knuckles, fingers bunched together with tension, the height of his shoulders under his ears. You expect to feel the unraveling force of your anger, the swell of rage towards him that has been lurking under the surface for so long, but it never comes. It simmers in the distance, cool and unprovoked, sitting silently and uneager. You wonder if it's temporary, if you’ll ever feel it again, the way you used to.

Instead, when you look at him, all you see is Simon. Theo’s dad. All you have is that feeling, the strong emotion that makes your head spin, and while you can’t get your mouth to form those three words, you feel the full force it when you look up at him with softness in your gaze and say,

“I think we already are, Si.”

[bonefall]

whats your take on the “palebird not caring about talltail leaving” scene? i always thought it was WEIRD, like yes she was a little distant because she was blatantly depressed, but not to the point where she would straight up not care about her first son leaving potentially forever?? it feels like one of those scenes the writers put in to make the The Woman look bad so the Bad Dad isnt aaaasssss bad.

I feel like many of my problems with it come from the end of TR being a mess. It sets up a ton of plot threads and either goes somewhere strange with them or drops them completely.

Palebird's is one of the ones that just gets dropped.

On one hand, I'm glad that Palebird isn't demonized, but they don't seem to know what to do with her. She's cold towards Tallkit and increasingly short and snippy as he gets older, reacts in a way that's pointed out as aloof and uncaring when he leaves and when he comes back, and Talltail takes it like betrayal when she moves on with a new mate... and then they just don't really have a thesis for that.

In the end, Talltail never stops and teases out his feelings on her, they never show a conversation where some characters talk about why she acts that way, Tallkit's upbringing isn't contrasted with his halfsib's upbringings... their last talk is actually about Shrewclaw and the kits his wife's going to give birth to. Talltail's BULLY.

This book that shows an abusive father and a nasty little jackass redeems both of these boys, making a sharp 180 to say they Weren't So Bad, but has barely any interest in Palebird. When she gives Tallstar one of his 9 lives, it's laughably short;

That's it. That's the resolution. She doesn't even act happy to see him return, they have a conversation about Talltail's bully, and then after she's dead he's like, "I'll never doubt she loves me ever again."

Like, ok? All right?? Did we just miss the falling action or did Ms. Hunter not feel like it that day?

In general I have so many feelings about Tallstar's Revenge... I can't say I HATE it because it is fun to read, and I like a lot of the things it lays down, but I can't LOVE it for how every step forward it feel like 2 steps back. And the differences in the narrative's sympathy towards Sandgorse (emotionally abusive and committing child endangerment because his son is disappointing him) vs his wife Palebird (completely unsupported while displaying a near textbook case of PPD) are like a tiny little microcosm of the problems in WC.

Sandgorse gets a whole journey dedicated towards finding out he was actually a hero who gave his life saving Sparrow, abuse forgotten, but Palebird... exists, and Talltail's mad she had new kids until he's suddenly not.

So in a nutshell, my take is that this soup is bland and watery. Look at all these complicated potential feelings they just cast out the window so they can talk about Shrewclaw the Bully and his Very Sad Death.

There's much better individual examples of how the narrative tends to treat their male and female characters (which is why I compare Sparkpelt and Crookedstar more than I compare Crookedstar and Palebird), but Palebird's a good place to talk about the pervasive disinterest that WC has in its girls. And how much of a waste it is.

[mugentakeda]

azula and lu ten things because i am insane

-lu ten does that shit where he appears at azulas door randomly with a bowl of fruit. he cuts them and peels them himself (<-frequent kitchen invader). he kinda floats in and drops it off at her desk silently while maintaining intense eye contact with her like a weird ghost

-they do a lot of “parallel play” together. azula didnt go to the fire nation academy for girls until after lu ten died, so while she still was being taught within the palace, theyd do their work together in the palace library. shed do her studies, lu ten would pour over his scrolls. when lu ten does this stuff with zuko there’s always chit chatting, but when its azula they just do their thing in each others company and in silence. lu ten likes to bring blankets and pillows and tea so they can do it on the floor instead of slouching over the tables

-when bad summer storms roll around the three like to sleep in lu tens room because his bed is the biggest. azula likes to whisper menacing shit like “cousin when youre firelord i will usurp you and make you and zuzu my court jesters” when zuko falls asleep. and lu tens just like Okay💯

-whenever they see each other with snacks they like to make it a goal to snatch it and run off as fast as possible. one time lu ten snatched a mooncake right out of azulas mouth and hauled ass through the courtyard. ursa and iroh were playing pai sho together and he kicked the whole table over just to slow azula down

-azula spontaneously appears in lu tens room to annoy him when shes bored and cant find zuko or if zukos busy. she stands outside his door complaining until he lets her in and then she just wanders around his room and messes with his stuff and stands there menacingly. And rhen she just leaves and lu ten will call after her like “and stay out WEIRDO” and azula will respond like “YOURE BALD”

-when azula was a baby and lu ten was still looking after her for ursa, he eventually had to teach her how to eat on her own. everytime azula ate shed have to bathe cus shed get food Everywhere. face, clothes, hair. under her clothes. eyelashes. up her nose. it was disastrous

-lu ten was always someone azula knew would be there for her but. he was only her cousin. and lu ten taking care of azula while ursa suffered from her ppd is a secret that lu ten kept to the grave for the sake of ursas pride, so while lu ten loved azula a great deal and to a very intense level that mixed and complicated the love and older sibling has and a parent has (complicated because lu ten was only 15 at the time lol), azula never knew. and unless ursa tells her in the future then she never will

-itll always be one of the things azula hates her uncle most for. what she finds most disgraceful and pathetic about him. she’ll have to spend more years remembering lu ten than she did knowing him, and its all her uncle’s fault. and all they have are ink portraits and paintings. so eventually, his features, his human face, will slowly ebb from her mind. and the minds of everyone that ever knew him.

her father never talks about him, never talks about any of the phantoms in their family. they don’t do anything for his birthday. so she just lets herself in his room, and messes with his stuff to find proof of his existence.

its dusty. clean but untouched, like he’s just left for a long vacation and tidied up a bit before going out the door. the robe he last wore is still slung over his desk chair. his sandals are still kicked across the floor with one flipped on its side. the lounge chair on his balcony has marks on its seat and back from how much he sat on it.

but theres no humming to nonsensical tunes just to fill the silence (because azula used to swear he liked to hear the sound of his own voice). there’s no scrolls and papers stacked madly on his desk. the scent of spiced saffron tea doesnt linger in the air anymore. it’s not strangely lived in. it makes sense where the servants tidied some areas up, when lu ten never made sense in how he did anything. it’s not right.

it doesnt feel haunted, though- the dread she feels when she goes into mother’s room doesn’t exist in lu ten’s. the sunshine from the always open drapes warms her. the dips in the mattress from when the three of them would cram together, where she and zuko would crawl all over him and dig their elbows and knees into his lanky limbs, they call to her welcomingly. like the silence after the whisper, like he’s under the covers telling her to quit standing at the doorway like a weirdo and to just come in already. like if she pulled the blanket back he’d be there to listen when she’d tell him about the horrible dream she had.

its not dread. its warm feelings and nostalgia lingering, but slowly becoming infected by her own bitterness. a gentle reminder of something she’ll never get back. a question wondering what she did to the universe for it to take away the one person that always corrected her, but never while also judging her or scolding her simultaneously.

and as she looks at the knick knacks on the shelves, she knows that lu ten wasn’t meant for a soldiers death. it’s not just because he was a prince. it wasn’t just because it was down in the trenches, among filthy barbarians in a far off city. it was because she just knew lu ten was meant for the long and simple life, and then a simple death. in his sleep. leaving happy memories like the ones azula has, with tons of kids and grand babies that he loved to pieces and helped raise. by the beach at sunset. leaving an imprint everyone forever, a fond memory brought up at every turn. he didn’t deserve to just be known by a family and a palace that liked to suffocate everything within it.

when she takes ba sing se in her fist, she still knows that. and knows this is probably not even what he wanted, because her cousin was gentle and fair. but he’s also dead forever. he’s her gentle and fair, dead forever cousin. she’ll never stop thinking about how happy he would’ve been to be surpassed by her with lightning, because winning never mattered to him. he’ll never be older than twenty three.

so she will do what she wants in his memory rather than doing what he would’ve wanted. she will do everything shes wanted to do since she knew he was crushed out of existence like a dying star. she will find her uncle and make a wound in the shape of her bitterness, right in his chest, and twist the dagger until he howls like a dog. she’ll rip his arm off for his disgrace, for coming home with only a limb of her cousin’s, and no rage to show for. no want for anything.

[daggerspare-standingby]

THE CHASE - PART 4 | Hangman x Reader

first off, HAPPY NEW YEAR!! and second, thank you so so so much for your patience with this next part! As some of you know, I was between 36-37 weeks pregnant when I started writing and posting this story, I gave birth at 39 weeks (Nov 9) and have been soaking up all the time with our little girl that I can. However, I was also suffering from a HUGE bout of writers block - I wasn't happy with how this part was turning out and actually deleted a bunch of it and re-wrote it. On top of that, I was (and still am) going through some PPD and PPA - I am doing better but I know it's still there, so your continued patience is ridiculously appreciated. Then the holidays came and I'm sure you all know how stressful those can be!

Anywho - Here's 1475 words of a little filler and some fluff and Jake realizing his feelings are stronger than what he originally thought.

--

A frustrated groan slips past your lips as you swipe the clothes hangers in your closet from one side to the other “how am I supposed to dress appropriately if I don’t even know where we’re going.” 

After their game of dogfight football, the daggers had brushed off the sand and returned to bar, Jake sidling right up to the nearest barstool to you “so, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at 7.” for a hot moment, you’d forgotten what he was talking about and cast him a confused look as you were pouring beer for another patron. His smirk didn’t falter “for our date, of course.” You nodded and set the beer down for the other guest and turned to him “beer or whisky tonight?” His grin stretched, showing off his pearly white teeth “Beer, and I’ll see you tomorrow at 7.” He took the opened bottle you handed him and almost strutted over to the remainder of the group by the pool tables. 

So here you were, standing in your closet wrapped in a towel from the shower, your hair pinned up in a clip, and wondering what in god's name you were supposed to wear on this date with Jake and it was already 6pm. There was a little black dress that was staring at you from the rack with flutter sleeves and an open back, short but not too short to be deemed too risque, you could never go wrong with a little black dress. You grabbed it, and laid it on your bed as you got to work with your hair and makeup. 

Jake was nervous. More nervous than when he realized he was the one who threw his CO out of the bar the night before meeting him officially, more nervous than hearing the mayhem that took place on the dagger’s mission while he was sitting on an aircraft carrier as the spare and unable to do anything about it. He glanced over at the bouquet of flowers in the passenger seat and took a deep breath before pulling up in front of your house. Shutting off the engine he checked the time, just before 7, he was nothing if not prompt. He grabbed the flowers, wiped his hands on his dark jeans once more and got out of the car, making his way up your path to the front door, one more deep breath, and he knocked. 

You looked frantically at the clock on your bedside, it was already 7pm, and he was here. “Shit” you hissed as you hastily grabbed a clutch and slipped on a pair of trusty wedge sandals before making your way down the stairs. You opened the door, not fully taking in his appearance “sorry, give me just a second, have to switch some stuff from my purse” you turned so quickly you didn’t even really give him a chance to appreciate your attire either. Grabbing your larger bag, you grabbed your ID and some money from your wallet and slipped it into your clutch, and as you were buttoning it closed you finally looked up to see him standing in your doorway, holding a bouquet of flowers, in a button up that showed off his muscles just enough to know he had them and jeans that you were sure if he turned around would frame his ass perfectly, your mouth went a little dry. “Hi”

Jake felt like he was staring, he probably was, you looked so beautiful. He couldn't help but smile as you fluttered around taking things out of your other purse to put into your smaller one, his tongue swiped across his bottom lip when he saw the open back of your dress and your legs stemming from the tasteful hem of the dress down to your very cute wedges, he could get used to this. When you turned around to finally face him, his smile grew. “Hi” Your eyes widened a little as you took in his appearance as well and he held the flowers out to you “these are for you, should probably go in water before we leave…” You nodded, lips still parted slightly as you approached him and took the flowers from him “of course, come in just a minute.” You turned and walked towards the kitchen, Jake walked into the entryway and closed the door behind him, and he took in your decor as he waited.

Flowers. He got you flowers, and how did he know hydrangeas were your favorite? You took them into the kitchen, smelling them with a small smile on your face as you set them next to the sink and grabbed a vase to put them in. Snipping the ends and setting them in the vase, you left them on the kitchen counter as you picked up your purse and returned to where Jake was standing at the entrance, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He smiled at you as you approached “you look incredible” holding out his arm to you “ready to go?” A light blush covered your cheeks, as you took his arm and he led you out of the house, allowing you to lock up, before leading you down to his truck and opening the passenger door for you. 

This was more than you expected, he was being quite the gentleman. The radio was playing softly in the truck when he started it up after closing your door for you. You stole the brief minute it took for him to walk around the front of the truck to take a deep breath and calm yourself. It never occurred to you that Jake would be a complete southern gentleman, even though he’s never shied away from being Texas born and raised. Thinking back to what you’d always heard from everyone, Penny, your predecessors at the bar, several other scorned women, his name on the bathroom stall, Phoenix… Hangman only cared about one thing. But this wasn’t Hangman tonight, this was Jake and you promised to give him a chance.  You were shaken from your thoughts as he hopped into the truck himself and turned the engine. 

Jake took a deep breath before climbing into the truck and heading towards the San Diego bridge that would bring you both into downtown San Diego. He had made reservations at a restaurant overlooking the marina that wasn’t cheap, he really wanted to impress you. As he drove, the music playing off the radio softly in the background, he looked over at you again “Penny for your thoughts?” Your eyes snapped up to meet his “truthfully? This is a lot more than I expected, the flowers, opening my door, you’re dressed very nicely and not in a cocky way” a very small smile graced his lips for a moment as he turned his attention back to the road “this is a real date, darlin.” 

You didn’t know what to expect, when you told him you wanted to be wined and dined you hadn’t expected him to take it seriously. But you were pleasantly surprised with how he was taking it, and before you knew it you were heading across the bridge into downtown San Diego and down the highway towards the Marina. The lights from downtown reflected on the water and you rolled the window down slightly to let the salty air into the cab of the truck and allowed it to calm you as Jake pulled into the parking spot.

Jake’s hands were still sweaty, he was still nervous - uncharacteristically so. But he stilled the engine, and turned to look at you sternly “don’t you dare reach for that door handle, I know you’re an independent woman but my momma would hang me by my bootstraps if I didn’t get the door for any woman - independent or not.” You blinked at him in surprise and stifled a small giggle as he got out of the truck and jogged around the front to get the door for you and unbeknownst to you, wiped his hands on his jeans again before offering one to you to help you out of the truck. “Thank you, Jake” you whispered as you took his hand and stepped down from the truck. As he held your hand and walked into the restaurant, he realized the feeling of your soft hand in his felt better than any throttle of any plane he’d ever sat in, giving him a feeling of euphoria he didn’t want to ever fade. There was no doubt in his mind, as you both followed the waiter to the table near the window set for two, and as he pulled out your chair for you and watched you sit, face alight with the flickering glow from the candlelight, he was totally, utterly, and completely hooked on you, and he never wanted the feeling to end.

--

Jake's got feels and he's got them bad!!

Let me know if you want to be added/removed <3

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