#the twins make me sad :O:

[fisherrprince]

oh so alisaie’s exaggerated bully behavior is 80% fanon. saying this she casually picks up a large rock

[cosmictheo]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 | feyd-rautha

(gif credits to @pascow)

— summary: an arranged marriage with feyd-rautha in the name of reconciling your houses was something you were not expecting, neither was the soft and light way he seemed to behave towards you and only you. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 3k —warnings: arranged marriage, feyd being gentle and calm because the reader is the love of his life (as it was written), probably ooc!feyd (sorry but i just love to see the most savage and feral men fall on their knees for their s/o)

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)

Your arranged marriage to Feyd-Rautha had been the reason for House Atreides and Harkonnen to strengthen their alliance, ensuring that neither would stab each other in the back, which was most expected from the Baron. Your Houses had been wavering on a faint thread that separated you from a war and this marriage arrangement had pacted a reconciliation. It had been your parents' idea and obeying your parents was the most important thing for you, right after protecting your family and indeed that was what you were doing, guarding your family.

Your twin brother did not like the idea, he was not very fond of Feyd-Rautha and his House, moreover, he found him rather... repulsive. For Feyd was a savage, a ruthless and bloodthirsty man.

However, he had to admit that, next to him, you would be basically untouchable, after all, it was like having a guard dog, the most possessive and protective dog, a dog that was ready to kill and ravage for you if necessary.

“He's scary.” Paul's voice echoed inside your head as together you walked along the vast hallways of the Harkonnen palace, at the end of it, Feyd-Rautha stood, engaged in a conversation with your parents, forever as stiff and somber as he had been since you had first met him.

“Just look at him, you'll have to wake up next to him for the rest of your life.” Your brother insisted, throwing you a knowing and concerned look. “We can fix this without you having to marry that man, sister. There must be something—”

“Enough.” you interrupted him, finally dragging your eyes from your betrothed to your anxious brother pacing beside you, you made an effort to offer him a reassuring, soft smile, grateful that he was always so caring and concerned about you and your well-being. “There's nothing else we can do. You know about my visions and what they foresee. Our House will not endure if I do not accept this offer.”

“We will do whatever it takes to survive for now.” You added, holding Paul's gaze, noting the sadness and pity behind his dark eyes, and like the good sister you were, you sighed softly, leaning closer to him to bring him some kind of reassurance. “Our turn will come to make our move and win, brother.”

“Whatever it takes.” He echoed, nodding his head, fingers brushing your clasped hand around his forearm, as you were accustomed to do when you walked side by side.

“The marriage will take place two weeks from now.” The Duke's voice gave out the news once you were all inside the assembly room, with the Baron at the head of the table, of course, looking uncharacteristically approving and pleased to hear the announcement.

The massive man showed his approval with a hint of a phantom, twisted smile, plump fingers taping the edge of the black table in front of him. “We will have the princess as a guest in our home for a week and then the na-Baron will visit her home for the last week, prior to her coming to live here.”

He planned the whole thing and there was absolutely no one in the room who had the idiotic courage to be against his command, so, it was settled.

Once you said goodbye to your family and gave a tight and emotional hug to your brother, you were left alone in the dark and gigantic planet of the Harkonnen family, feeling like an outsider, like a small prey surrounded by bloodthirsty predators. Although, the place possessed an indescribable and incomparable beauty, the sun was black, and the light that irradiated was whitish, giving it a beautiful contrast with all the black buildings rising majestically. But the place was rather... depressing, quiet and somewhat eerie, it was nothing like your home.

You soon felt out of place, and everyone who looked at you could see it too. It was as if you had some kind of golden aura, glowing among all the darkness and gloom of the place.

Feyd-Rautha watched you attentively, analyzing every expression and emotion you let be shown across your face, catching the look your eyes possessed, that special little gleam that flashed in your orbs as you admired Giedi Prime as if it were one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life, his home.

“Do you like it here, my lady?” His husky, raspy voice managed to snap you out of your trance, and your heart skipped a beat once you trailed your gaze from the horizon beneath the balcony to him, meeting his deep, dark gaze. He always seemed to look at you with those eyes, captivated, as if you were some form of strange spectacle.

And indeed you were, you stood in perfect contrast to the planet, your eyes were bright, lively, your aura was vivacious and hopeful. And because of that, he liked to look at you, study your face, your body language, every little reaction you had in response to something. You were fascinating.

Whenever you entered any room, his deep blue eyes were pulled to you like a magnet, drawn to orbit around you like his planet circling the dark sun.

Feyd noticed out of the corner of his eye how your hands clasped lightly around the balcony fence in front of you, skin contrasting against the blackness of the material. 

You nodded your head very slowly, twisting your body just enough to be able to look him directly in the face, big eyes looking up at him, not with fear, but with expectation. “I do.”

Even your voice was the opposite of his, keeping that soft and delicate tone, as elegant as you.

He seemed satisfied with your positive response, and so, he dared to lean against the balcony fence right next to you, but careful not to cause you to feel too uncomfortable or intruded upon. His eyes never left you for a second and he was quite pleased that you were bold enough to hold his powerful and intimidating gaze.

“Good, it will soon become your home too.” Feyd answered you, in a tone that oscillated between amusement and fascination, you didn't quite know how to decipher the expression on his face either, naturally.

He was very complicated to read, even if you tried extra hard, the many tutoring and lessons with Lady Jessica didn't seem to do much use, with him. Perhaps because he made you feel unnerved, he made your soul tremble like no one could, stepping beyond your walls and standing where none of your senses seemed to work. Where the eye could not see.

“Are you mocking me?” Still, you had the courage to ask him that bold question, one eyebrow rising on your forehead and your head twisting slightly, defiant face and all.

Your bravery made him laugh slightly this time, a noise that was heard almost unnaturally, with a small crooked smile on his lips that looked all too unusual and strange on him. For not even his strongest and most powerful enemies had had the courage to stand in front of him and challenge him like you were doing right now. You were a fierce girl. And he liked that.

“I wouldn't be likely to mock you, my lady.” Feyd-Rautha replied calmly, his tone of voice the exact same, as if you were a spectacle. Your eyes lowered to his hand, which snaked slowly to the edge of the balcony fence, fingers stroking the smooth surface. “I'm just stating the obvious. You'll be living here with me soon. It will be our home and you will reign with me when it's my turn.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at his response, not yet quite convinced that he would behave so calm and composed with you, when not more than two days ago you had seen him slicing men to pieces in the arena. “You are not bothered by me invading your space?”

You asked that question because you knew how... eccentric men usually behaved, you could see it in basically every man with any power you had ever met, in the so many meetings with the Duke back home. You could see how they treated their wives, how they looked at them and how they talked to them, as if they were dealing with a servant. You feared this marriage was like that too.

Even your parents' marriage was broken, since Duke Leto kept close to his heart another woman who was not Lady Jessica, he did not love her as he loved that unknown woman. You had grown up seeing an empty and cold marriage, merely to fulfill a duty.

You understood that your marriage would also have that basis, and therefore, you knew that duty was the death of love. But for some silly, innocent reason, you wanted to think there might be love here. As the naive, young girl that you were.

Feyd-Rautha shrugged, not taking much interest in the matter of the question, “You'll be my wife, my space is your space.”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw that his answer pleased you. You could begin to understand that to him the whole arranged marriage thing wasn't as important as it was to you, or maybe it was, but it didn't seem to bother him or disagree.

“Does this marriage bother you?” It was his turn to ask, staring down at you, noticing how beautifully your skin reflected the pale natural light of the black sun. He could see how frustrated you were now, to be there, with him. “Does it bother you to be my wife?”

You sighed heavily, peeling your eyes from Feyd-Rautha and returning them to the beauty of the landscape below, pondering the questions. His dark eyes followed your every movement as your body turned forward again, hands gripping the balcony fence as if your life depended on it.

“Do you care much for my opinion of you?” You decided to answer him with another question and that seemed to annoy him for his frown deepened and his fingers halted on the fence, devoting himself to glaring at you with his azure eyes, mirroring the pallid light of the gloomy sun.

“Woman, I will marry you and live by your side for the rest of my life, of course your opinion is important.” He took a couple of steps closer to you as he spoke, hand closer and closer to yours, managing to make you even more nervous. “Don't speak nonsense, it doesn't suit you. You're a smart girl.”

Seeing the expression on your face, he leaned even closer and out of the corner of your eye you watched as his hand rose to your face, resting on your chin and turning it ever so gently for you to look at him, but your eyes lowered, fleeing from his.

It seemed astonishing to him that you didn't even flinch away when you sensed the approach of his hand to your face, as if it wasn't the same hand that had slaughtered so many and slit so many necks by the same motion.

“Don't take your eyes off me.” He demanded in a low, raspy tone of voice, you could feel his breath brush against your face. “Look at me.”

When he whispered your name in that delicate, nearly pleading tone, you finally summoned the courage to look at him, allowing him to cradle your chin between his fingers and allowing him to be so close to you that you felt suffocated by the warmth of his body against yours.

“You fear me?”

He asked in that tone of voice, whispering, silently asking you to have mercy on him, not to fear him as everyone usually feared him, not to see him as the monster everyone saw, but as your husband, your protector and your lover.

He saw how your eyes watered slightly as fear peered into your usual stoic, cold face, and Feyd-Rautha was used to beholding that face, was used to fear, because it was always the last look of his enemies.

“I'm afraid. Of leaving home, of living on an unknown planet, of marrying someone I don't know.” Then you shook your head softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “But I am not afraid of you, Feyd-Rautha.”

“You're very bold... and emotional.” He whispered in a disapproving but gentle voice, fingers tracing barely a caress along your lower lip before he reached up and dried the couple of tears that had managed to escape from your pretty eyes. At the closeness, you could begin to see through the mask he always carried, hiding his emotions. “You can't let yourself look like this in front of your enemies, it will make you appear weak.”

“I can't let myself look like this in front of my future husband?” his dark eyes lowered to your lips as you modulated the question, pupils dilating slightly. You swallowed as you saw desire and lust darken his orbs even more when you referred to him as your husband. You sniffed, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your outburst of emotions. “I'm s—sorry. You shouldn't see me like this, my lord.”

“Don't apologize.” He again reprimanded you in that passive-aggressive tone of his, like a hiss of a snake, shaking his head a little. Even after he wiped away your little tears, his hands remained in the same place, cupping your face, each of his thumbs resting on your flushed cheekbones.His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against your skin, sending shivers all over your body beneath their path. “You can be like this only with me, you understand? You can trust me, I want you to trust me.” His fingers took a lock of your hair and pulled it away from your face, running it carefully behind your ear. “But I really don't like to see you cry, my wife-to-be.”

After barely a second of silence with his azure eyes again flicking down to your parted lips, he spoke again, muttering, his raspy voice indicating that perhaps it hurt his throat to talk like that. “Pretty girls like you should cry out of pleasure only.”

He studied your face once more, not missing the way you blushed at his open flirtation and suggestive words, how you bit your lower lip, pupils expanding in thick blackness. You weren't used to so much attention, let alone men saying those kinds of words to you, it was evident. You were so innocent that it provoked a rare feeling of tenderness in Feyd-Rautha.

Perhaps it would be the closest thing to an act of consolation you would get from him and it was likely the only time in his life he had ever done that.

Promptly, you managed to make him smile again. “You Atreides are so strange and delicate... but then again, you will soon be Harkonnen, the prettiest na-Baroness, my pretty little wife.”

From his voice, his careful choice of words and the way he was looking at you, you expected him to kiss you right there —perhaps that was what you wanted, amidst all the tumult of emotions that shook your little heart, beating in rumbling noises inside your chest, pumping fiery blood through your veins.

But after a few seconds, he pulled his hands away from your face and backed away from you, taking a few steps back and offering you a look that you managed to perceive as soft rather than harsh. You knew that he was controlling himself well in maintaining a good demeanor, perhaps because his uncle had ordered him to do so; to do his best to make a good impression and not bring shame to the family. And also because he wanted you to have a good image of him, he was a prideful man, he was used to boast of his virtues and his power, and he was above all, protective of his own person and his glory.

He made a short gesture with his head pointing to the open balcony door, his hands clasping together behind his back pragmatically, as if he were presenting himself in front of a superior. “Now come, pretty girl, I'll show you the palace myself. You're future home.”

You walked towards him, a little smile curving your lips, the first smile on your face during the entire conversation, and he admired it in all it's glory.

“You don't have to be all stiff when you're with me, Feyd.” You eyed his posture with light eyes as you passed him and made your way inside the guest room with graceful steps, him following close behind.

He wasn't very fond of being addressed by name directly, of having his name used so freely, but the way you pronounced his name made him so utterly proud to be called that, he suddenly was wishing you would just call him that, in that tone of voice, tongue savoring his name as if it were the most delightful thing to say.

You turned to look at him for a few seconds, your tone of voice becoming reassuring, something he wasn't quite used to, yet he heard and savored it as if it were the sweetest thing in the world.

“If you can see me cry, then I can see you relaxed. It is only fair, no?”

Feyd-Rautha received your words positively, causing him to deepen his breathing into a snorting chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement now behind your back.

“I'll try for you.” His response made you smile once more.

[mattslolita]

one of the girls - c. sturniolo

in which ... you're one of chris sturniolo's girls for the night of the versus tour. ( chris x black!fem!reader )

warnings ; smut, fingering, cowgirl, creampie, unprotected piv ( wrap it freak hoes )

"𝒊 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

every moment since you had bought the tickets, you'd been waiting for this day for months — the let's trip versus tour. you've been a fan of the sturniolo triplets since late 2022, and since you weren't able to make the first tour, here was your second chance in 2023 to make the versus tour.

you and your best friend alize had been trying to pick out the perfect outfit for you both to wear, having switched things up many times in between since you wanted it to be a perfect day.

even though as a nick girl she'd be wearing purple, you and alize wanted to match with each other to the t — her outfit contrasted yours only because she wore a cardigan instead of a puffer like you had. the amount of pictures you both took on the uber ride to the venue was insanity, as you both were twinning so hard.

when the day came, you felt excitement course throughout your body as you realized you'd soon be in close vicinity with chris sturniolo — you were a die hard avid for 'black girls 4 chris', something you and alize would joke about all the time. you liked to joke and say you were the number one chris girl ever, whilst alize said that she'd hands down be nick's favorite lesbian.

you knew sometimes your fangirling could get out of hand at times, as you found multiple occasions where chris was your wet dream or you often daydreamed about what it would be like to be with him. his voice, his hair, his personality, that smile, he had lived in your head rent free. you also knew chris probably had no issue at all when it came to hookups, but that wasn't something you cared about — even if it was for one night, one time, you wanted to be in their shoes. you wanted to know what it was like to be one of chris's girls.

the line at the venue had filled quickly, as you and alize had met several of your online friends you made from the fandom — the other girls were sweet and kind, and as you looked at the other chris girls in the crowd you briefly felt a wave of sadness as you thought that any of them could be the lucky one.

your worry dissipated though as you felt alize's excitement radiating off of her body, causing you to giggle. "girl, how are you feeling?"

"how you gon ask me that, y/n?" alize said in disbelief, causing you to giggle as she put a hand on her chest, "we literally finna be breathing the same air as nick sturniolo. hoe, i'm unwell."

some people shot alize dirty looks at her seemingly rude behavior, but both of you paid no mind to them — anyone who was friends with her knew that that's the way she joked around with people, the way she spoke in general.

"i'm so excited to see chris," you tell her dreamily, running a hand through your curly lace front you got done yesterday, "i hope i get picked as his teammate."

"laura's racist if she don't pick us to be one of they partners," alize whispered to you, causing you both to laugh as the line moved forward.

"remember, we get to get pictures and do small talk before the show starts, so make sure we're headed for that line!" you explain to alize who playfully rolls her eyes and swats your shoulder.

"girl chill out, i remember what our tickets said!" alize giggled, "i sure as hell remember how much we paid for them things, ain't no way i'm not speaking to them!"

"and then the merch," you whined, pouting your lips, "that shit was going into my funds for college next semester!"

"then you might wanna start looking for a j-o-b!" alize tells you knowingly, causing you to groan, "i told you, i can speak to my manager for you!"

"girl that man is a pervert, i'm not working there!" you say firmly, "how do you even deal with him?"

"why do you think i act like a dude every time i have a shift?" alize tells you knowingly, "you'll never catch me wearing stuff like this around him."

you felt yourself become excited again as you looped your arm with alize's looking at you guys' matching outfits. "i still can't believe how much we matched with each other!"

"what if we can get a group picture with me, you, nick, and chris?" alize wonders, "we'd all look fine as shit."

"i know chris probably looking fine as hell today," you whispered to alize, causing her to giggle at you.

"girl you always think he look fine," alize says with an eyeroll, causing you to nudge her shoulder playfully.

you could feel your nerves heighten as you got a view of the area where the triplets could be seen doing group photos with the fans. a nerve of both excitement and arousal coursed through your veins as your eyes landed on chris — stray hairs peaked from underneath his black backwards cap, his usual friendly smile painted across his features. you unknowingly bit your lip as you scanned his outfit, seeing as he was wearing an orange tasmanian devil shirt with black jeans white air forces — casual, yet he still turned you on so much.

you took a deep breath as the line drew closer, and you had an even better view of the triplets. they all looked so good, and you felt both excited and nervous at the fact that it would soon be you and alize's turn.

just as you had turned to whisper something alize, chris's eyes had somehow wondered over to you unbeknownst to you — his eyes wandered around the entirety of your outfit, drinking in your brown skin and your thick thighs which were somewhat hidden by your skirt. he almost smirked as he realized you had been dressed in all orange, letting him know you were a chris girl. his girl.

when you looked up from laughing at what alize had said, you could feel eyes on you — your breath almost caught in your throat when you realized he was checking you out. you bite your lip nervously as he swiped his thumb over his nose before giving you a small smirk, directing his attention back towards the fans who were next in line.

you could've melted right then and there, now having to clench your thighs at this. there's no way chris sturniolo was checking you out just now? your mind had to be playing tricks on you.

then again, you didn't doubt chris had thought some fans were were cute. he definitely wouldn't have had any problem hooking up with the older fans if they let him, you definitely would've wanted to hookup with him.

your nerves skyrocket even more when you realize you and alize are up next.

the security ushers you towards nick first, who offers you a warm smile and outstretched arms. "hi, love!"

"hi nick!" you say, hugging him quickly before you make your way towards matt. "hi matt!"

matt gives you a smile, hugging you back as you go to chris next.

his eyes are already on you, having watched your interaction with his brothers — a small smirk is on his face as he pulls you in for a hug, his hands dangerously close to your ass as they reside on your waist. "hi, gorgeous."

it comes out a sort of whisper, which causes your cheeks to warm as you pull away from him with a shy smile. "hi, chris."

you turn to see alize already positioned in between nick and matt, so you took that as the initiative to put yourself in between chris and matt as well. nick puts his arms around alize with a smile, whilst both matt and chris put their arms around you.

well, matt's arm stays around your neck, while chris slips his around your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze causing you to clench your thighs together.

the picture snaps twice, and you turn to wave a quick goodbye to both nick and matt. chris smirks, sending a subtle smack to your ass as you give him a shy wave and you leave with alize.

you still couldn't believe what just happened — you debated on telling alize, but she was so caught up in rambling about the fact that she just hugged and smelled nick so you just giggled with her and let her talk.

the show soon started, and unfortunately you did not get picked to be chris's teammate — but you and alize squealed of excitement when laura asked if she wanted to be nick's teammate. of course that girl was not finna pass that up.

you were front and center of the stage, watching as the show took place in front of you — you knew your eyes weren't playing tricks on you when you saw the glances chris kept sneaking at you. you couldn't help but let your doe eyes wander and stay on his, even when you were recording alize and nick. you had almost missed the perfect swish alize made with the basketball, causing you to cheer loudly for your best friend.

when chris had walked near your side of where the stage was, he gave you a subtle wink to which you smiled and blinked your doe eyes up at him. you were hoping other girls couldn't see it, as they would be quick to make stupid assumptions, because it's not like anything was happening.

the show soon ended, leaving you both nervous and excited once again since you and alize had the small talk with them now. unfortunately you and alize ended up being one of the last people in line, since she accidentally left her phone somewhere on the stage and spent time looking for it.

the small talk line up was in birth order, which you were extremely grateful for — alize had went before you, and now you were up next as you make your way towards nick again.

"hi again!" nick says to you with a beam, holding his arms out for another hug.

"hi, how are you?" you ask him excitedly, as you place one of your posters on the small table.

"i'm feeling good, it was cool to meet everyone," nick tells you, unrolling your poster of all three of them. you hold a pen out to him, which he gratefully accepts, "how are you tonight?"

"i'm doing good!" you tell him excitedly, "i can't believe chris won again, what's going on with you, stink?"

both of you laugh, and he shakes his head. "trust girl, i'm gonna win we just need to give it some time."

"period!" you say, holding your phone up, snapping a few pictures with him, "thank you so much nick, i hope you have a blessed rest of the tour!"

"thank you so much for coming!" nick smiles as you both hug one more time, before you give him a wave as you're off to matt next.

matt smiles at you as you approach him, and you smile back as you set your things on his table. "hi again!"

"hi, matt!" you say calmly, "may i hug you?"

"absolutely, c'mere," he says politely, outstretching his arms towards you, and you slip into his arms.

"how are you tonight?" you ask him, as he signs one of your posters.

"i'm doing good, i can't believe how many people came," matt tells you, and you nod understandingly.

"i'm glad to know you're doing good! i hope you're having fun, too," you tell him sweetly, as he smiles and pulls you in for another hug.

"do you wanna take some pictures?" he asks you kindly, and you nod enthusiastically, handing him your phone as he snaps a couple of .5 photos of you both.

"have a blessed rest of your tour!" you tell matt as you collect your things, beginning to walk away as he smiles and waves at you.

as you're approaching chris, he already has that same smirk plastered on his face as he watches you walk up to him slowly — when you reach him and set your things down on the table, he's instantly bringing you in for a hug.

his hands skim over your skirt momentarily, causing your breath to hitch at the close contact. "hi again, chris."

"hey ma," chris says, swiping his thumb over his bottom lip as he eyes you up and down shamelessly, "did you miss me?"

"i'm a chris girl, of course i missed you," you purred, a sudden bold confidence striking you as you blink your doe eyes at him.

he licks his lips at you and hurriedly jots something down onto one of your posters, and you find yourself unable to look away from him as you take in the way his jawline is so sharp and how the light hits him. he looks so hot, and something inside you wishes he would take you right then and there.

"alright, wrap it up!" one of the security guards yells towards you, causing you to sigh as chris gave you an apologetic smile.

"it was nice meeting you, chris," you say shyly, going to grab your posters.

"you'll see me later, gorgeous," chris whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as he pulls away, giving you a wink, "see you soon."

you give him one last smile before you hurriedly begin walking to find where alize is at. as you're nearing the hallway, a buzz in your pocket causes you to take your phone out, seeing a message from alize.

alize🙈🫦

girl tell me why i left my phone AGAIN

i went to go look for it that's why you don't see me anywhere

you curse under your breath at this, silently shaking your head as you begin walking towards the exit — suddenly a hand goes out to grab your arm and carefully yank you towards the door.

"what the fu-"

"told you you'd see me again, ma," chris's voice smirks, and you could feel yourself gasp as you turn to see him, your hand still in his.

"where are we going?" you ask, looking up at him.

"giving you a private tour," he smirks, licking his lips as he looks you up and down once more before pulling you towards the door.

it's nighttime already as the both of you exit out of the door — you feel yourself giggle slightly as the wind whips your hair whilst he hurriedly makes his way towards their tour bus with you.

he looks around to make sure nobody saw or followed, and he quickly opens the tour bus doors. chris signals for you to get inside first, and he couldn't help but watch the way your ass jiggled when you walked up the steps.

as soon as you both were inside, you barely have a chance to look around at the tour bus before chris hurriedly whirls you around to face him, his lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss.

your arms find their way wrapped around his neck as he draws you closer to him, his arms slithering down to give your waist a gentle squeeze before he lands a smack to your ass.

you gasp into the kiss, allowing his tongue access inside your mouth — you moan when his hands roam all over your body, until he hooks his arms under your legs.

"jump f'me," he mumbles into the kiss.

you do as you're told, jumping and hooking your legs around his waist. chris walks backwards towards the sofa couch, sitting down on it as he continues to kiss you.

you move your legs on either side of his waist straddling him, as you whimper into the kiss — you detach your lips from his and bite down on his bottom lip, pulling away with a pop.

"fuck, you're so hot, baby," chris breathes, causing you to whimper again as you grind down on his hard on.

"chris i want you to do whatever you want with me," you breathe, resting your forehead on his as you catch your breath, "i'm yours."

"is that so, sweetheart?" chris grins up at you, running his hands up and down your sides which causes a shiver to run down your spine, "you gonna be a good girl f'me?"

"yes, always," you tell him, grinding down on him again eliciting a low groan from him.

chris reattaches your lips, tilting his head in order to dominate the kiss — he pulls away and leaves a trail of kisses on your neck, sucking on a particularly sweet spot causing a moan to escape your lips.

you shrug your puffer jacket off of your shoulders, as chris helps to take off your halter top as well. your tits spill out of your bra causing chris to groan as he takes one in his mouth, sucking and nipping at it whilst massaging and kneading the other.

"m, fuck chris," you whine, throwing your head back as you grind down on his erection, feeling your panties dampen.

"take this off f'me baby," chris instructs you, taking his hands off of you so that you could stand up.

you hurriedly pull down your skirt, revealing the orange lace panties you wore underneath — chris's eyes darkened with lust, immediately pulling you back onto his lap. "fuck, you had this all planned out, didn't you?"

"no, but i was hoping it worked," you giggled, biting down on his earlobe as his hand went down to rub across your slick.

"look at you, so wet f'me," chris breathed against your skin, rubbing his hand along your wetness teasingly, "take these off baby."

you quickly stood up and rid yourself of the panties, throwing them to the ongoing pile of clothes. chris pulled you back onto his lap, inserting one of his long, slender fingers into your hole, causing a lewd moan to escape your lips.

"f-fuck chris, feels so good," you moan, throwing your head back as his fingers work in and out of you.

"taking my fingers so well, sweetheart," chris rasps, leaving kisses along your neck as his fingers curl inside you.

"please, faster..." you whine out, his mouth leaving a deep purple spot on your neck as he pulls away with a pop.

he speeds his pace as he finger fucks you, loving the way you sound as he abuses your walls with his fingers — he added another, increasing the pleasure and you felt your orgasm approaching quickly.

"so close, chris," you moan, grinding onto his fingers, "m' gonna cum."

"cum on my fingers baby," chris grunts in your ear.

you quickly obliged, feeling your orgasm wash over you as a moan of chris's name escapes your lips and your juices coat his fingers, your legs shaking. you stand up as he licks his fingers clean, grinning up at you as he pulls his pants and boxers down revealing his throbbing cock — your eyes widened, now knowing that he was in fact huge as fuck.

"what's the matter baby?" he grins cockily, grabbing your waist again as you hover over him.

"you're s-so big, i don't-"

a loud moan escapes your lips as chris sinks you onto his cock, and you immediately feel him stretching your walls — tears feel your waterline from how big he is, your mouth fixed into a permanent 'o' shape as you adjust to his size.

"c'mon ma, i know you can take me," chris assures you, gripping your waist tightly as a groan leaves his mouth, "be a good girl, remember?"

you nodded, just as chris suddenly thrusts his hips up hitting your g spot which elicits a moan from you as you grip his legs while your head is thrown back — he grabs your chin as forces you to look at him.

"look at me while you ride me, ma," chris instructs you sternly.

your hands still gripping his legs, you begin bouncing up and down on his cock as it abuses your cervix repeatedly — the slapping of skin as well as chris's low moans and your high pitches ones vibrated throughout the tour bus, and you were pretty sure anyone close enough could hear what was happening.

"fuck this pussy feels so good," chris grunts, watching as your tits bounce in his face, his eyes staring into yours darkly, "who's pussy is this?"

"yours chris, all yours," you moan, throwing your head back as you continue bouncing, "m'close again..."

"hold it baby, i'm almost there," chris pants, his hips thrusting upward to meet your pace, "fuck..."

suddenly chris grabs your phone and holds it up, taking a live photo of you bouncing on his cock whilst he leaves another kiss to your neck.

with a few more thrusts, you feel chris's dick twitch inside you indicating how close he is — he finally releases inside you, painting your walls white. your second orgasm washes over you, as your legs shake whilst your juices release all over chris's cock.

chris helps you off of him, and you stand up immediately grabbing your clothes scattered around — chris lands a smack to your ass as you bend over to pick your shirt up. "chris!"

he just laughs as he pulls his pants up, then hands you your skirt as well. you smile up at him shyly as you slip it on — he rubs his thumb across your lip and plants another quick kiss to it as he holds your phone up again.

"sorry i couldn't take it earlier," he says, pulling your body against his.

"it's okay, taking it here feels more intimate anyway," you giggle.

you hold the side of chris's face as he snaps the camera once, then he places a kiss to your cheek as he snaps another one.

"can i use the bathroom real quick?" you ask him shyly, and he nods, showing you where it was.

once inside you hurriedly pee, letting out a sigh as you finish and wash your hands. you look in the mirror at yourself, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you look back at the girl who just got fucked by chris sturniolo.

walking back outside, you look to chris who has your phone in his hand, as he holds it out to you, which makes you smile and walk towards him, reaching for it.

he puts his hand on your waist as he holds your phone above your head, looking down at you with a smirk.

"boy, if you don't hand me my phone back!" you tell him, trying to reach for it which resulted in him holding it higher.

"few more kisses first, ma," chris grins, puckering his lips out making you giggle.

you press a kiss to his lips and pull away, but he quickly dips down to peck your lips a few more times. he hands you your phone back finally, and you smile as you begin walking towards the tour bus's exit.

"your posters!" chris says before you can leave, hurriedly handing them to you.

"thank you," you said, looking up at him, "i enjoyed tonight."

"anything for one of my girls," chris winks with a grin, planting one last kiss to your lips.

you exit the tour bus, looking around for any sign of life before you make your way around the building — you look around, your body trembling from the cold air before a honk of a horn grabs your attention and you gasp, jumping slightly.

"where the fuck were you, y/n?" alize's voice says worriedly, rolling down the window to the uber, "bitch i was looking for you!"

"shit girl, i'm so sorry," you apologize, climbing into the seat of the uber next to her, "i have so much to tell you."

"hoe, you better tell me where you disappeared to," alize whispers to you half angrily, the other curious.

before you could get a word out of your mouth, a buzz from your phone grabs your attention.

unknown

*one attachment*

y/n

chris ??? are those my panties ??? 😭

unknown

didn't fuck anybody else baby, yeah they're yours

need something to remember you by since today was our only la show

y/n

is this you telling me you wanna see me again?

unknown

i'll fly you out to another show if you're down

y/n

only if my girl can come too !

unknown

i'll get you both a plane ticket

y/n

i'll see you soon then😘

unknown

good

send me some pics to keep me company while you not here😏

"bitch what?!"

( lilly's section 💌 )

this didn't come out as good as i wanted it to, but i hope y'all liked this ! love u guys so much muah💌.

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @prettiest-poision @mrssturnioloo @mattsturniolosleftnut @sturnprime @thenickgirl @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter @eyeliketoeatpoosay @e1ias3 @sp3aknaur @middlepartmatt @summerssover @riasturns @sturn777 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @pinksturniolo @chrissturniolossidehoe @chris-slut @hoesformatt @raysmayhem-72 @whosthislyssbitch @lanas-doll @chrisssluttywaist @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d

[caemidraws]

M A S T E R P O S T

[General Tags]

₊˚.⋆ #dnd related art

₊˚.⋆ #comics and other funny things

₊˚.⋆ #tarots, full deck in progress

₊˚.⋆ #pettirossi content*, from full illustrations to session notes

₊˚.⋆ #marsilio (computer, show me pictures of the blorbo)

(*more links for the comic under the cut)

[Useful Links]

The other social

About me

Previous Asks

[Comic (TBA) - Prologue]

Cover | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[How to Support]

RB shop

Comms (CLOSED)

:･⚔ ||| P E T T I R O S S I ||| ⚔･:

[fantasy/horror webcomic written by @jonesylium, illustrated by me]

Inspired by our dnd campaign, the comic follows the events that brought a group of unfortunate characters together, in a city ruled by factions and tall towers, scarred by night runners and obscure legends.

 ⬇  ⬇  ⬇  Find out more on our comic here  ⬇  ⬇  ⬇

Serious business aside...if you ever wondered what's going on in my art or who are the characters I keep drawing without providing any context - you're going to find out (some) more!

⚠️DISCLAIMER⚠️

This is our first experience in the field, as it's the first comic (of more of 3 pages) we've worked on together,,, We just really wanted to make a media with our characters, and while we know it's a wonky attempt, the dnd urge to share blorbos is strong--

(TW list in the FAQ section)

[ ₊˚.⋆ Comic Pages ⋆⁺. ]

Cover | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

[ ₊˚.⋆ Session Notes and More ⋆⁺. ]

⚠️⬇ Spoilers Below ⬇⚠️

Misc | Side Tales | Colors | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30

[ ₊˚.⋆ Lore / Asks ⋆⁺. ]

⚠️⬇ Spoilers Below ⬇⚠️

Random Infos 1 | Random Infos 2 | Asks (WIP)

[ FAQ ]

☆ When are we getting new pages?

On every Thursday, at Midnight (Central European Time).

☆ Any trigger warning?

I'll be updating the tw list on here as the comic proceeds.

First chapter: blood, death, scars, burns, gang violence.

☆ Where should we send our asks?

You can send asks to me, @jonesylium or @pettirossiofficial! I'll do my best to reply any question concerning the comic but it'll may take some time in case I need to doodle something or need to wander the woods for 3 days to think about a good reply idk

☆ Who does what????

@jonesylium: writing and lettering (typos)

me: sketching, inking, coloring, crying

☆ Who are the characters???

Andrea [he/him]

Mars [he/him]

Misericordia [they/she]

the Twins (coming soon) [he and she]

Quarzaldo (best name btw) [he/him]

Solvi [she/her]

Toloc [he/him]

Ultima [she/her]

Will [he/him]

⚠️SHORT REF SHEETS COMING SOON⚠️

Special thanks ₊˚.⋆ to who's playing Everyone Else, aka @shaykan

☆ What is a pettirossi? Is it something you can eat or what

It's a pun about petti-rossi translating to red chests (red=rossi, chests=petti) and the italian name for robin (the bird!!!). We needed a gang name that sounded bloody and cool but not edgy.....

☆ Do you take requests?

You can hope to 'lady macbeth' me enough to make me think it was my own idea to draw something

☆ Why haven't you replied to my ask? :(

I either forgor OR your ask had a compliment in it and I'm safekeeping it in my askbox so that I have something nice to look at when I get sad

There are chances I go back to older asks so don't lose hope.....

[gazeofseer]

Soul Connection💙

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

'Love is too much glorified to ones dream

And quite petrified to savor it in life.........

Before you give up I want you to give in..

To your soul and find the other end of the

String that aches, arches, and embeds

you every night wondering

If there is no one for me what is this

love mourning for then..?'

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Pick A Image

And let your heart guide you allow that feeling to stir out and take you in the message calling upon you ;

Image.1

Best Friends, Platonic, Caring, Values, Spouse, Wrong Place with the Right Person

Message : The soul of yours is on a journey, of self discovery be it understanding what you truly want and need as an soul through life of human, to knowing it later after many lessons down the line that makes you see all the wrong things first and then things awaits on you to be corrected,

The connection you have is a Platonic one in this lifetime above mentioned are the forms you might have already met them or they are quite close but there is a wall of strangeness in between or a veil of unknown who is yet to arrive they are important part of your journey this makes you sad to not love like others, settle like others, but you are not one of them right? You are here for different things..they would be one of your greatest chapters that makes you worth the go towards the next.

Even if there is a separation it will be quite endearing and worth it. Because they would still wish the best from afar for you.

'Maybe love was about a moment of relief for the one who was on a quest of the living'

- S ✍🏽☘️

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Image.2

Karmic Bond, Purpose, Intent, Contract, Redemption, Salvation

Message : The dreams can weigh at times to, even if things seems enraging you hold it well behind a smile that a moment of ignorance and you would disappear amidst of the crowd to find your corner, comfort, of space where you shed all your emotions into a flow of thoughts that keeps you under greys before it rains.

There is a ache in your abdominal or chest, or a heavy guilt of feeling sorry towards something I am not able to see what exactly as I see you even feel hard to speak up like two Gulps down you take and sigh of eye rolls you go after doing any kinds of talk, your soul has a karmic bond it can be anyone in your family, but I see more in your social and friends group maybe even a colleague or romantic person, there is so much gloom, blues, and black here, a contract of hurt has begun that needs to be redeemed by the one who did to set the other person free with that state of feeling.

It will be really quite peaceful, refreshing yet painful as this heaviness will set both of your souls to move ahead in your life journey without holding anything back that can drown you at any time.

Timeline is near to 2-3 years it seems to be near the end by this year or next year's july.. monsoon is prominent and winter too.

The beauty of life is, there can be an end to whatever happens within it, but beautiful things hurt too badly like love

- S ♥️

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Image.3

Twin flame, Reflection, Transcend, Frequency, Attune, Trance, Mirror

Message : The idea or myth has a say that karma mirrors when it comes to twin flame but the reality has always been different and distinctive, You imbibe each other's nature timely..if you drink coffee now they might be having tea..

But the very same evening there will be a swap and you would wonder why did chose this when I am a specific this person; is how mirroring situations occurs in between you and your twin flame, I see you don't like to be too stereotypically girl but you have your own way to carry femininity same goes for masculinity,

To find a balance between the frequency of your energy will bring the space of mirrors into existence your twin flame is also seeking you the dreams you had about someone's safe touch but you have never been touched a dagger slashing something into two, all this is a sign of confirmation.

You will meet them when everything is balanced and attuned like a manifestation this entirely depends on how is your energy, divine timing, purpose, frequency, and attuning of your souls.

We exist under the same sky sharing the same breath, the day we will meet what exchanges is the trance of our being till date gets seen, heard and felt a dream come true.

- S🌊

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Image.4

Soulmates, Inner Knowing, Fidelity, Longing

Message : Everything speaks to you about love, hope and light no matter how much dark and cold things around may get there is warmth within, it is the longing towards your soulmate every songs remind you of the visions that you could possibly have with them not the delusions but the kisses on cheeks leaves a smile on your face by now for real as if you felt it happen for real but it is yet to.

I see you are quite pure at heart to see shades and imposters which makes you get influenced at a flinch but god's grace you deal with things very well that even through a mishap you come out like a boon.

It is a part and parcel of the growth towards enlightenment but just be cautious in case things can snap at you anytime even if you are ready for a war no need to invite one to prove everytime that you can do it. trust me this is from your soul mate you keep hurting yourself and they feel really helpless right now to not be able to help you through, so just let go of conflicts if it is around ignore..dodge deal it with grace or address it collectively instead of going and reacting rashly on your own.

To look feel and experience one's soul all you need is love inside your heart's core to connect beyond all the veils of falls and lows, that elevates you heightens you through grounding your roots of existence deeply in each other's heart through foot imprints.

- S🩷

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Paid Readings are Open Check my Pinned Post !!

[its-freaking-jordan]

Hihi!! First off all I hope you are having an excellent day / afternoon / night! May I request some headcanons of the hashiras seeing reader (who's also a hashira) as an older sibling figure (Gender Neutral if possible!)?? If it's possible all of them, if not that's alright! Please and thank you! ^^

-🌸✨

Hi! I can do this request no problem and thank you!!!

Hashira seeing you as their older sibling figure

Tokito Muichiro

First off, your 17.

He would be by your side 24/7, not giving you any type or space.

You are overprotective of him, because he’s 14 and a hashira at that.

You remind him of his twin brother a little, which he told you about one day.

Once he told you about his twin, it did make you sad, and you promised Mui that you will make sure nothing happens to him.

You take him out at night to just look at the stars and talk, or just sit in silence. Which neither of you mind.

He will try his absolute best to not forget you, but sometimes he does and say “Who are you..why are you following me?.” You just watched him in a shock but then remembered Shinbou said he has a bad memory. You’re very patient with him.

Once you both were making paper planes in your Estate he forgot what he was even doing and just walked out. It did make you confused but you laughed it off when he came back and remembered why he was even there.

He holds on to your uniform whenever he can, so he wont be “lost” but in reality he just wants to be close to you <3

Sanemi Shinazugawa + Genya

You’re 28.

He tends to be more comfortable around you, (besides Obanai.) He feels as if he can talk with you about deep things.

He interrupted the Master once at a important meeting, you glared daggers at him. You scolded him in front of everyone, he just stared at you, while the others were giggling.

He didn’t intend on bringing up Genya al all.

You found out about Genya regardless, you saw him with Sanemi, but Sanemi was yelling at him.

He slapped Genya, well almost did, but you somehow managed to stop him right before he could.

You demanded explanations from him, he wouldn’t tell you, but end up doing so because you kept nagging him.

You scolded the HELL out of him and, demanding he apologize to his younger brother.

He flipped you off, basically saying no and went on with his day. Thats when you ignored him.

You found Genya again but in the forest, and decided to talk with him as well. He was the opposite of his older brother.

He did end up apologizing to you and Genya. Now you three are a little happy family <3

Mitsuri Kanroji

You are 20

Please help her with her hair once in a while, she loves when you do her hair and style it.

She adores you 24/7. Literally every little thing you do, she gives a compliment.

Often ask if you would want to make food with her, and ofc you wouldn’t say no to her.

You both often go out shopping together, to buy gifts for the other Hashira’s.

She would tell you about her love life with a certain hashira.

You support her 100% and help her with anything she needs.

Once she came crying because she “thought” she messed up on Obanai’s gift.

“Y/Nnn! Please help me! Pleaseeee! I gave Iguro-san the gift I picked out and he just nodded and walked away!!! I think I did something!!!”

You just stared at her while she was clinging onto you sleeves as she was crying. You just smiled and hugged her, telling her she didn’t mess up anything and, maybe that Obanai was just shy to say anything and, that she shouldn’t be harsh on herself.

She suddenly looked at you, crying more and just tackled you to the ground hugging you tight. “Wahh! Thank youu! I dont know what I would do without you Y/N!!”

Obani Iguro

Your 22.

He would often watch over you as if he’s the “older sibling” Which you don’t mind at all.

He would do small talks with you before any Hashira meetings. He mostly tell you how he feels about the Love Hashira.

You support them 100%!

He would often ask you for advice because he doesn’t know what to say sometimes, which you gladly help him out with.

He did show you his scar before, but he never meant for that to happen. He is ashamed of it, but you told him that it was a beautiful scar, which he didn’t believe at first, until you had to show him how beautiful he was without his bandages.

He takes pride in it now, but still decides to keep the bandage on.

He came back with a gift Mitsuri gave him, being the nosy one that you are. You started teasing him about, which caused him to slap you.

“Are you actually older than me? You act like a child for your age Y/N.” He gave you a side eye when he heard you whine from the slap.

He ends up putting ice on your face, as a apology, which you accept fully, dragging him into a hug, he hesitated for a moment before he gave in.

Giyuu Tomoika

You’re 23

He feels more comfortable around you than anyone, minus Sabito and and his sister.

He’s still introverted but makes any effort around you.

He would often ask if you would like to accompany him during his missions, which you accept.

He would smile when you’re around him, but you cant see it.

You would try to make him not be introverted as much, which was a complete fail. You honestly didn’t mine trying though.

Whenever his haori ripped, you’re very quick to fix it up. He would try to tell you, he can do it but you didn’t listen.

“Y/N please, I can fix it myself..You don’t have to keep doing things for me.”

You told him, thats you we’re alright with helping him with almost anything, even if its small things. He simply signed knowing you wouldn’t budge, he just placed a hand on your shoulder with a genuine smile, which melted your heart.

“Fine, but let me at least take you out, as a Thank you.”

Gyomei Himejima

You’re both the same age, but you’re only older by a few months.

Jeez, you are WAY shorter than him, he ends up thinking he’s the oldest sibling just by your height comparison.

You would often meditate with him whenever you get the chance.

You both would go out just to walk and talk. That’s his favorite thing to do with you.

He has a cat, and once shows you his pet cat.

You both would always talk about your days,whenever you’re done with missions.

You’d often ask about his beads, which he would happily talk to you about.

“Y/N can you please put my weapon down..It’s not something to be toyed around with.”

You kept examining his weapon, asking how does he fight with it. You were just amazed by it. He was kinda stunned from you asking questions about his weapon and how he fights with it.

He took his weapon back, which caused you to stop smiling. He then sat you down by him and started to explain his fighting skills to you.

Shinbou Kocho

You’re 20.

You often hear her teasing Giyuu, which always make you laugh.

You then apologize for her teasing at the end.

You know about what happened to her eldest sister Kanae.

She would often do checkups on you everyday to make sure you’re not getting a cold.

You helped her around the Butterfly mansion a lot than needed which she’s very thankful for.

Which caused you to be her “sibling” now.

Whenever your both alone you would ask her, how is she doing. Which she replies:

“I’m quite alright Y/N. I appreciate you asking me.”

Which was bullshit in your eyes. You end up having that same talk with her, that she had with Tanjiro.

She honestly thought you didn’t know about her sister at all. Which caused her to stop “smiling”.

“I see…So I’m assuming you knew her then?”

You end up explaining how you promised Kanae that you would watch of her and Kanao both. Which caused Shinbou to actually smile.

You hugged her out of nowhere, not really sure of what to do about the silence in the room.

“Thank you..Y/N.”

Uzui Tengen

You’re a few months older than him.

This man had a-lot of energy, which drains you every time.

He always tease you and call you “Un-flashy”

Often mocks the smallest things you do, which ends up you hitting him on his head.

He introduced you to his wives, which caught you off guard, when he said that he has 3.

Expect dinner parties almost every week at his place.

He made you a headband like his.

“Ah! My dearest sibling Y/N! I made you thee most flamboyant gift you’ll ever receive! No need to thank me, it’s just something I thought of.”

He gave you a headpiece just like his but your stones had a heart on it.

You wore it almost everyday, somewhat matching with Uzui.

You both were close than ever.

Rengoku Kyojuro

You’re 21.

Expect to be woken up very early, by his crow.

Everyday he would compliment you once he gets the chance.

You help him with Senjuro, that he is thankful for.

You would make bentos before he leave for his missions and, he swore he will owe you back.

He never lets go of a promise, he always have a gift for you and his brother once he’s back from missions.

You him and Senjuro would all make sweet potatoes together, even if Kyojuro can barely cook.

One time he wanted to surprise both you and Senjuro, so he woke up very early than usual. He made your favorite food along with Senjuro’s.

A few minutes later you woke up to find Senjuro shaking you to wake up. You both made your way to the kitchen only to find it a complete mess.

Rengoku was done with the food he prepared, with the ingredients on him and on the counters. He had the biggest smile on his face when he served the food to you both.

“I made you both a treat! As a thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Even if it’s not the best, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

[emxisms]

Can you do the Sinclair brothers, thomas, Bubba, brahms, Billy loomis, and stu matcher with a s/o that is the illuminati? They make deals with people and if they break it they kill them? So they basically are a killer too. (Make sure to take care of yourself)

Hi my love! Yes ofcourse I can! I hope you're doing well, make sure to take care too. Xoxo 💋

𝕾𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖝 𝕴𝖑𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎 𝕸𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

FEM!reader.

Warnings: Harsh language, mentions of killing (duh), references to inappropriate acts

𝔅𝔬 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔯

At first, he was definitely alarmed. You know, nobody would really trust it at first. Especially Bo. He doesn't trust anyone, really. Not even his own twin.

When he finds out you kill people aswell, he would ease into the thought of you helping 'decorate' Ambrose.

"What, so, you basically do deals with the devil and shit?" "Um, sort of.. in a way.." "Shit, and I thought you couldn't get any hotter."

He would beg you to let him help kill the sons of bitches who break their end of the deal. Then proceeds to get angry at you when you refuse.

𝔙𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔯

Definitely shocked. Who knew someone so sweet was capable of something so harsh? You would never lay a finger on him, but to hear this news.. lord have mercy.

Is always worried about you when you go on trips. The last thing he wants is for you to get hurt when dealing with 'business.'

*Baby promise me you'll be careful, okay?* he signs, "I don't know what's careful about murder, but I promise."

𝔗𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔱

Lord does he freak out. You're telling him your job is to make awful deals and.. if they mess up, you have to put yourself in danger?! No thank you.

When you reassure him that you're okay, and safe, he'll calm down a bit more. He just wants you safe all the time. He hates having you around his home because of how dangerous it is, but love is one hell of a drug.

Huffs and grunts at you when you get mad at him for not being careful while 'hunting' knowing damn well you do the same on your business trips. He's a sassy man at heart. But he still loves you, ofcourse.

𝔅𝔲𝔟𝔟𝔞 𝔖𝔞𝔴𝔶𝔢𝔯

WHAATTT??!!!

Wants you to teach him some moves. He's open to learning a few things. If he has to kill, he wants to do it in style.

Is really excited about it at first, but the more he thinks about it, realization hits in. You could get hurt doing this. He doesn't like it anymore.

After some reassurance and cuddles later, he's calmed down and is okay with it. As long as his love is okay, he's okay.

𝔅𝔯𝔞𝔥𝔪𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔢𝔩𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔢

Oh, no.. No, no no..

You're putting yourself in risk?! EVERY DAY?!?!... Brahms doesn't like this news. Not one bit.

He will whine and beg you to stay home and will beg to maybe even... come with you? He wants to keep you safe. You're his one and true love, he wouldn't dare lose you.

If you get hurt taking care of business, he will definitely feel like it's his fault. Why would he allow you to go out and work knowing the harm it can cause?!

𝔅𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔏𝔬𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔰

"Well damn mama, I didn't know you had it in 'ya."

Thinks you are so incredibly hot. 10x more than he did before. He wants to see you in action, he'd definitely get a kick out of it.

If you come home from a 'mission' and you're covered in blood.. you'd best believe he's pouncing on you immediately.

𝔖𝔱𝔲 𝔐𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯

At first, he gives you more of a confused look when you drop the info on him, and then of ofcourse he'll stick out his tongue and do that crazed giggle of his. He doesn't believe you for one second.

That is until he sees the look on your face. You are dead serious about this.

"Oh.." he stops and thinks.. "OH!!" "Oh?.."

"Ohh~.." he grins. "You're a killer too, aren't 'ya!?" He's going to be teasing you about this for weeks, maybe even months.

Asks if you're interested in helping him and Billy with some tasks. He'll be sad if you say no, but he gets it.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

I apologize for not doing requests!! I have been incredibly busy with my personal life, and being honest.. I forgot I had tumblr installed.

I will do my best to get to your requests as soon as I can!

Requests ~ ☑️

↳ read my pinned post for further information! xx

[chrollogy]

Picture it: you have a favorite meal and Atsumu tried to make it but it turned out terrible!!! He couldn’t serve ya that! What is he, a chump? No! He’s gonna beg his twin to teach him how to make it well, and Osamu’d betta do a good job o’ doing it!!! He was NOT gonna serve his babe a sub-par meal!! Even if it meant helping his brother with take out orders…

nonnie omg u don’t know how happy i was reading this ask because its so true !! tsumu isn’t one to settle for less esp when it came to his baby >:(!!! i wrote a lil drabble LMAOOO

── miya atsumu was determined but as time passed, each monotonous second passing with every tick of the clock, determination embarrassingly dissipated before one could even spell it. earlier today, atsumu had a rather amazing idea of cooking up your favourite meal just because.

thing is, he wasn’t as gifted as his twin brother when it came to skills in the kitchen. despite following along a youtube tutorial of how to make your favourite meal, each of atsumu’s calculated move resulted in nothing but hopelessness, and it did a damn good number on his ego. the meal didn’t taste like how it was supposed to be and atsumu feared there’s only one person who could help him in the field.

miya osamu.

the amount of tease thrown his way—from his brother—was enough to make him quit, and admit defeat but he was doing this for you.

“samu, are ya sure this is how it’s done?! this better be right!” “shut up, ya scrub! don’t question me!”

it was a slow day in onigiri miya—a good opportunity for atsumu to finally learn from his twin about the basics of cooking, and hopefully he can apply those to make your favourite meal. oh, atsumu can already imagine the pleasant look on your face once he’s perfected it!

osamu looked at the hopeless creation pitifully nestled in his brother’s hands, heart weighing heavy at the butchered sight in front of him. illegal. it should be absolutely illegal for atsumu to even step foot in his kitchen—if he wasn’t related to the blonde by blood, he was sure he would’ve called the cops with that onigiri. if you could even call it that.

“what makes ya think customers will want ta eat that, tsumu?” he sighed. atsumu had rice stuck all over his hand, the nori seaweed crumbling beneath his heavy hands, and not to mention the sad, sad attempt of moulding it into a little triangle.

“shut yer trap! i’m trying my best!”

oh, he was determined. atsumu secretly spent his free time perfecting his skills, and the tips osamu gave him: ‘remember it’s a pinch of salt. ya know what a pinch of salt is, right? ya gotta pay attention or it’ll be too salty.’ ‘taste as ya go. remember that so ya know what to add if its bland, or else you’ll end up with a disaster.’

his hard work finally payed off when your eyes sparkled with hunger, and amusement. before you, a perfectly plated meal—your favourite meal—sat on the table of your shared apartment. everything looked perfect, nothing was burnt nor undercooked, and it looked exactly how it was supposed to look.

“oh, ‘tsumu it looks so lovely! i can’t believe you actually took time to make this all for me.” you gasped. he may or may not have asked osamu how to properly plate it via facetime.

atsumu gently ushered you to your seat, both hands on your shoulders, an excited smile plastered on his handsome face. he jogged around the kitchen to grab your plate, and utensils before pouring water on your glass, and sitting across you.

“‘ts nothin’ just wanted ta do somethin’ nice for ya.” he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, watching as you grabbed your spoon to taste the food.

atsumu’s head thumped against his chest as you opened your mouth to take a bite. it was going good so far, a small smile on your face. oh, thank goodness it was a success—

your smile faltered. just a little but atsumu caught onto it. this can’t be a good sign.

“baby?” “y-yeah?”

“i think you put too much salt.” you coughed, hastily standing up to go to the sink. atsumu’s eyes widened at the information, swiftly trailing behind you.

shit. he had forgotten about the two of the many things osamu taught him—knowing what a pinch of salt was, and tasting as you go.

—

tsumu is still in the progress of making himself comfortable in the kitchen !! he’s getting there </3

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 10 (Part 2 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

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

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

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

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; depression; feelings of stress and anxiety; feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; allusions to a dark, forgotten childhood; arguing; heart issues addressed (POTs); use of heart monitors; revisited, vivid memories of sex; jealousy; body changes as a result of pregnancy; suuuuper sore boobs; negative self-talk (stretch marks specifically); talk of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones...things get heatedddd; reader and jake are both stubborn + turned on, but can't be together and it's TOUGH; cheating; heavy petting; rubbing of bodies against each other (see: dry humping); hands on boobs oopsies (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 16.7k+

a/n: hi babes… <3 this is my personal favorite part out of the two… so, let me know how you feel… ;) love u all. busy day! i'm so sorry it's late. plz know i love you all sm <3

s/o to @joshym who is my favorite and the most wonderful encourager and sister in the entire universe. i love you more than i can say. you make life sunny and everything better <3

also, @alwaysonthemend, i love you so incredibly much and i’m so grateful for you and your unwavering support and texts that never fail to make my day <3

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

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

“The covetous man pines in plenty, like Tantalus up to the chin in water, and yet thirsty.”

-Thomas Adams

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 25, 2022

Friendsgiving. A standing, solid tradition since the first Thanksgiving you’d spent as Josh’s friend. It had always been you, Elsie, Josh, Sam, and Daniel.

But this year, you’d be entertaining new people. One you were incredibly grateful for. Jake. And one you weren’t even slightly sure about.

Maya.

She was the last person you wanted to celebrate a holiday all about Thankfulness with. But, you had to. Stupid ass shit that you couldn’t control, so you had to just pretend to be fine with it. 

To your benefit, you had a distraction – a fantastic, welcome one in Elsie. Elsie and a morning of grocery shopping.

For Friendsgiving, in a group chat between you two and the rest of the boys, Elsie had insisted that you two be in charge of pies. So, you two were currently wandering the aisles of Walmart with Pinterest up, recipes open to several flavors of pies that Elsie had decided the two of you should make.

And the way to make homemade crust since she refused to use store bought. 

“It will be a fun thing to try,” she’d sworn, aggressively pinning a couple to your shared board.

You were the one in charge of grabbing things off the shelves, while she pushed the cart and bossed at you what to grab for each recipe. The makings for apple pie and pumpkin pie already rumbled around in the cart. So, now you were on to the final pies and their ingredients. The few cans of cherry pie filling had just landed in the cart when Elsie decided to confront you about Jake. 

“What’s going on between you and Lover Boy?” She asked, trying to sound absentminded in her question, but you knew she was not thinking of it randomly. She’d most definitely waited for a moment to hit you with the question when you were forced to respond. 

And, you were. You were currently completely stranded at a Walmart with only her and one car to get you back to the apartment. There was no escaping the question. So, you decided to do what you could and only answer halfway.

“Well, he knows,” you started, grabbing a bag of sugar off the shelf, avoiding her eyes. “And things are going good.”

“What a vague response,” she hummed. “Why don’t you grab a couple cans of blueberry filling and hit me with full honesty.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the can and turned to face her. A blush painted your cheeks that you couldn’t avoid. “I am being honest. He knows and things are good.”

“Yeah, that answer works for a random Joe, but not your sister. I’m not here for the fucking cliff notes.”

“I don’t care what you’re ‘here for’, Elsie,” you grumbled, turning to walk ahead of her toward the flour. “And why didn’t you ask me this yesterday when we had the entire day at Grandma and Grandpa’s?”

“It didn’t really feel like the right time to ask,” she defended, pointing to a particular bag of flour, which you grabbed and put in the cart. “I also didn’t want to stop talking about the ridiculous fangirl experience because that shit was hilarious,” she paused, gasping. “Oh! Speaking of fangirls and the other guys. . . When are you planning on telling Josh? I'm dying to start planning a baby shower and I want him to help me.”

“He didn’t tell you that I told him before my first–?”

“You told him?!” She asked, astonished. The cart squeaked to a halt behind you. 

Turning around with a laugh ready at your lips, you gawked at her. “What is wrong with you, Dramatic Ass?”

“Um,” she sharply started, hand on a hip. “My sister and my boyfriend are keeping me in the dark, that’s what’s wrong.”

“Josh is busy and I’m busy,” you responded slowly. “We’re not 'keeping you in the dark'. Also, he just found out a few weeks ago. It’s not like he’s known for–.”

“A few weeks?!”

You swiveled fully around to face her completely. “Els. Josh has never been one to talk about other people and their lives to shoot the breeze. You know this. He wasn’t going to bring it up if it didn’t concern him.”

“Well, it does. It concerns both of us. Aunt and uncle? Hello?”

“It’s also just a giant ass thing that I’m sure he’s still processing,” you argued. “Give him a fucking break.”

“I’m bringing this up to him,” she stubbornly stated, huffing and everything. “I’m going to make him own up to not telling me he knew.”

“You knew and didn’t tell him,” you reminded her. 

“That’s different; you didn’t want me to tell him.”

“And what if he thought I didn’t want you guys talking about it at all? He’s very sensitive to stuff of that nature.”

“I don’t know. I’m still asking him,” she firmly stated, continuing to push the cart forward, effectively ending the conversation with her tone. 

And, much to your joy, dropping the other part of the conversation as she went on a sassy rant about something Josh had done recently that pissed her off. 

It lasted all the way home and you were damn happy. . .

Although, you did have to work a little magic to get her to stop being such an over-thinker and asshole when it came to Josh. You had to give a plentiful amount of examples as to how he was all of these amazing things wrapped in one and not the person her mind was trying to convince her that he was. 

She had trauma and abandonment issues, too. . . she just didn't always show them like you.

But. . . it made you pause. Made you think of yourself and Jake. . . . your mind went to the clouds as you thought of your feelings towards him. You were still like this as you helped her carry in groceries, and only snapped out of it when she started bossing you again. Except this time, she was annoyingly giving you jobs around the kitchen to prepare the blessed pies.

-🌼🌼🌼-  

Jake had been the main chef for Friendsgiving.

All day, the apartment smelled heavenly thanks to his wondrous cooking. He'd started way early in the morning, and had awoken you with the incredible smells. . . but you had forced yourself to lay in bed rather than going about your morning routine. Truthfully, you really hadn't had to force yourself too much as you heard Maya's voice make unwelcome waves around the apartment through your door. You weren't in the mood for any of it this morning considering last night. Last night, when you'd seen him and Maya. . . . . Yeah, you'd still been in the process of blocking that the fuck out.

So, you'd only caught a little glimpse of him buzzing around the kitchen before Elsie and Josh had shown up. At which point, Elsie had been ready to hit Wally World.

But, now that you were back, you'd noticed that he'd taken charge of a few very important tasks. He'd roasted a giant turkey in the oven, made rolls and mashed potatoes from scratch, and a delicious gravy to accompany all of his dishes. Josh had been in charge of casseroles, and the other two hooligan men had been in charge of drinks and salad (a big bag of lettuce from Walmart with a bottle of Ranch and a plastic container of cherry tomatoes). 

Maya had been in charge of nothing, claiming via Jake that she would be helping him. But all day long, she’d just sat around, looking way too stupidly pretty, and watched him cook. Lazy ass. 

While you and Elsie slaved away at dessert, thankfully Jake was done with his preparations (save for the turkey that still cooked and created the most appetizing aroma). Meaning that Maya had followed him and wasn’t looming in the background as you made pie.

Which was good because you really did not need her around you any more than she had to be.

As you made pie after pie and sat them on top of the oven to go in once the turkey came out, you filled Elsie in on everything else that had taken place in your life as of late. Told her about the emergency room visit and everything you’d found out at the E.R.; how you’d come up with a solid morning routine to attempt a healthier pregnancy; and any intricate therapy detail that came to mind. 

The boys had been sitting in the living room, playing music on a few guitars (Josh, filling up the apartment with old Elvis tunes). Then, opting to talk for the majority of the time.

So, you'd been able to gain precious time with your sister. She had encouraged you and supported you just like you knew she would. She’d also gotten onto you for not taking better care of yourself and not taking prenatal vitamins sooner.

“You fucking idiot,” she laughed, bumping your shoulder with hers as she passed you in the kitchen with the last pie. “No, but really. I’m sorry that you’d been so stressed and overwhelmed to the point of forgetting to do shit like that. I wish I’d lived closer to you for the beginning of it all.”

Your ears perked up at that. “Yeah. . . Me too,” you said slyly, considering options as they filtered through your head. “What would it take for you to move closer? I don’t want to be selfish, I just don’t want to do this without you.” 

But, after the words came out  of your mouth, you heard just how selfish they sounded. Though, thinking about her being with you for the baby had been something at the back of your mind that you’d been contemplating for weeks. It didn’t mean you needed to drop that fucking bomb on her though. . . The baby wasn’t her thoughtless decision that she needed to change her life for. . . It wasn’t fair to her. 

“I’m sorry, Els,” you slapped a hand to your forehead, shutting your eyes to avoid any further self-induced embarrassment. “I didn’t even think about that before it slipped out. You don’t have to change any—.”

“Well,” she started, coming close to you and removing your hand from your head. As she held your hand in hers, she continued speaking. You opened your eyes to her. “That was actually my thing that I was waiting to tell you. . .,” she paused, trailing off. A slow smile lit up her features as her eyes brightened. “I put in a request for an office job attached to the company I work through. An office job for a branch of the company - based here in New York. . . Told them I didn’t want to travel any longer and that I’d appreciate something steadier as life changes. . .”

Your ears filled with excited static. “What?!” You gasped, eyes lifting with hope. “What did they say?!” 

“Well, a few people talked to a few people, and the director of the program I’m in gave his permission and then recommendation to that part of the company,” she rushed out. “So, in a few months, I’ll finish out my contract for this job and be living here full time for the new one.”

There was almost no time between the moment she’d said the words and the moment you’d leapt from your spot in the kitchen to give her the tightest hug you could muster. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

She looked fucking gorgeous today. Everyday, in fact. But for the past couple of days, all I could think about was how thankful I was to have her in my life. Tis the season. No matter what, I was very thankful for her. . . For so many reasons. 

Though, the most prominent reason in my mind at the moment was how thankful I was to her for carrying our baby. So selfless and motherly and lovely. . .

So, I couldn’t help stealing repeated glances at her. I just hoped I wasn’t being too obvious. She was always beautiful, stunning—actual perfection walking—but the fact that our baby was in her belly just made matters much worse for me. She glowed in a way that she never had before. . . Drew my eye to her in a way that couldn’t be stopped.

It was wrong for me to look at her like this. I was in a serious relationship with someone else. . . I definitely shouldn’t have been eyeing her the way I was through the open layout, into the kitchen from my spot in the armchair. And especially not while I had my arm wrapped around my extremely hot girlfriend, and her nice fuckin' ass sitting halfway on my lap.

And, really. . . y/n had effectively broken—no, shattered—my heart all of those months ago in the kitchen. She shouldn't have drawn my eye to her the way she did after what she'd said. But, I really couldn't hold that against her any longer. It didn't matter as much as it once had. . . not anymore.

But, we weren’t meant to be. Honestly, I wasn't sure if I wanted us to be. . . It seemed too difficult for the two of us to manage. And, I had Maya. . . Mayamayamaya.

I would've been lying, though, if I said she wasn’t the most incredibly created human being. She was sculpted by the gods. . . Meticulously made to ruin me. When she really shouldn't. Fuck.

And now that she held my baby. . . The way her tummy rounded out more than usual, under her sweater—that shit left me completely speechless.

The way she held pregnancy was unparalleled to every other woman that had ever done it before. She was ethereal. And as great as Maya's ass was, there was truly no comparing it to the way y/n's ass looked in those leggings I’d seen her wear no less than a million times before. . . And just like every time before, I wanted to walk up behind her and feel the curve of it. Rip them the fuck down and bend her - dammit. I was so fuckin’ weak for her.

But anytime I felt Maya move against my arm, or lap, or smelled her perfume wave off of her with an action, I was reminded of how completely wrong it was for me to be checking y/n out. It was wrong how I couldn’t get her out of my head—all the time, she was there. Even in the most intimate moments with Maya, she kept creeping the fuck into my thoughts. 

But, truly, it just happened. Couldn't control it.

And, even when I got up to check on the turkey once more, I couldn’t help my reaction when I passed her. When I'd accidentally brushed past her on her way out, the way my heart pounded in my chest as our bodies touched for a millisecond. She smelled so sweet—just like a damned sugar cookie. And the way she’d passed so delicately against me. Her top half had pressed against me for a stolen moment in time, her eyes catching mine as her precious bump skimmed my waist.

And her breasts. Felt those, too.

My chest tightened and my dick twitched—it was almost too much. The air was stolen from my lungs. 

We were so close for those few seconds.

“Sorry,” she hushed, her eyes flicking up to look at me. A small smile was sitting on her lips, more out of embarrassment than anything. Her cheeks were the prettiest pink under my gaze.

But she wasn’t the one to be embarrassed. I was the only one who should have been embarrassed — for how I was instantly a teenage boy again, just because of a little brush from her body. 

“Don’t be,” I mouthed, like we were sharing a secret. My lips lifted to reassure her and my eyes lit up with an emotion I couldn’t explain if I tried. 

Her face softened at my expression, and then she was gone. 

And once I’d gotten the turkey out of the oven, I was mostly back to normal. I’d forced myself to think about sad images of roadkill enough to ruin the mood I’d set in my head. 

After breathing a few deep breaths, I called out that dinner was ready and all I could do was hope for the best for the rest of the day. 

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

Thanksgiving carried on from when lunch started at two in the afternoon, to the evening, and saw your friend group (and Maya) sitting around the living room.

You were all bouncing back and forth with the Roku remote. Rotating around your semi-circle, every person took a turn choosing a YouTube video to cast.

It had turned into a sort of game of who could play a song that meant something to someone else in the room. Jake had just had the remote, right before Elsie, and had played a song for Josh. It had been some song from Seussical The Musical, to which Josh had sung along to every word. He’d even gone so far as to get up to do a little performance of the song. 

“That’s exactly how it went,” Josh had chuckled heartily, the sound starting deep and lilting at the end. He dropped his arms from an obviously rehearsed dance routine, the song ending on a final high note. “I swear to God.”

“Oh, Joshua,” Sam’s eyes bugged as he looked at Jake with a laugh, who shared the moment of humor with him. “Trust me. We remember. Every single high school theatre production,” Sammy shook, as if reliving a traumatic memory. "All of it is seared into my poor, poor brain."

"Samuel, shut the fuck-," Josh started, before getting interrupted by his twin.

“Day in and day fucking out, Josh. That’s how often we heard those songs at home— for the months leading up to that damn musical,” Jake raised a thick brow. It made your tummy do somersaults - he was so handsome. “And I was lucky enough to hear it from backstage as crew. . . Every single rehearsal.”

“Yeah, you really fucking hated those songs,” Josh noted with a bubbling laugh, sitting back down next to Elsie, his arm falling around her shoulders. “Why would you make yourself suffer through that again?”

“Just playing the game,” Jake shrugged, rolling his eyes with a smile. He handed the remote over to Elsie, who sat on the couch, next to where he sat on the floor, in front of the couch. “But goddamn if I don’t ever hear it again, it will still be too soon.”

Sam agreed with a toast, raising his beer bottle as Jake lifted his. They nodded at each other from across the room. And you stared on, getting distracted by the woman who sat on the couch, criss-cross-applesauce, behind him, braiding his hair. 

Fuck that bitch, you thought hotly— ridiculously.

Admittedly, it took too far too long to look away from her pop-up salon. But you eventually did, and watched the screen as Elsie started typing something into the search bar. 

You knew better than to feel jealous of her. But, you couldn’t help eyeing her from your place, as you snuggled into the armchair with your favorite fluffy blanket covering you. Just wanted to let the chair swallow you, so you nestled deeper and closed your eyes to imagine it.

“This is one of y/n’s favorites,” Elsie said, the pre-video ad starting on the television. “The first time she watched this, her life changed. The perfect mix of her love for classic rock and soul music.”

Instantly, you knew exactly which song she was talking about. And when the video started, your heart expanded in your chest, making everything feel fuzzy and light. Everything felt okay. 

Change the World. . . . the Unplugged version. Eric Clapton and Babyface. . . . so many memories.

“This is our childhood,” you said, voice thick with emotion. The amount of tears you cried on a weekly basis was nothing short of humiliating. The baby hormones were vicious in their attack.

“I can’t tell you how many times we heard this as kids,” Elsie affirmed, looking over at Josh. 

“Grandpa is a strangely huge fan of Babyface,” you giggled, throat loosening a little as the laughter bubbled from your chest. “This Unplugged vinyl played on a loop for a period of time.”

“It was that year we bought it for him for Christmas,” Elsie added, agreeing. She was watching the screen with tears in her eyes, too. “But you ended up loving it so much,” she looked over to where you sat. “That the next Christmas you got your own vinyl of it. From yours truly. You're welcome." She winked, blowing a little kiss your way.

“I do take partial blame for the constant looping on the living room record player,” you smiled, winking at her. 

She winked back. “Yeah, you and Grandpa had equal hand in his Unplugged record warping on this song.”

You grinned, sticking your tongue out at her as she did the same. When Eric Clapton started singing, you gave the screen your full attention. The sound of this song only brought back the happiest memories. Even before hearing Babyface’s cover, it was a family favorite. It was a song that made you feel whole. 

It was the one song your Grandpa loved to sing to you. . . Before this version had ever come to your family’s attention. He'd sing it in those soft moments that felt like glowing rays of sun hitting your skin on a hazy summer evening.

But when your Grandpa had heard the Unplugged cover on the radio, the Earth had shifted for him. . . And even though it didn’t top your Grandpa singing it, the cover featuring Clapton held a special place in your heart with how often you’d heard it bouncing off the walls of the living room. It played so often that you associated it with some of your best days. . .

You'd still been innocent enough, still, to enjoy the world through a rose-tinted lens. And, far enough away from the trauma with your Mom that life had felt new. Ironically, the cover of the song had come around when your world was finally feeling like it had changed. It had been an intricately timed re-release of the lullaby your Grandfather had once poured over you as you’d drift to sleep on both restful and restless nights. The song felt safe – sort of like your Grandmother’s cooking felt for you. 

“You know, it’s funny,” Josh’s voice cut through your drifting thoughts. You kept watching the two men on screen, but tuned in to your best friend’s dialogue. “Jake loved this version, too. When YouTube came around, he would watch this version back to back, trying to memorize the way Babyface and Eric complimented each other on their guitars. He always wanted–.”

“To play both parts and record them on top of each other," Jake finished, watching the screen intently. You’d let your eyes wander from the screen momentarily to see his expression after hearing Josh’s story. He still looked utterly invested; just like you imagined he had looked as a kid re-watching it over and over again on YouTube. “It’s not really an intricate piece. . . I just found it at a time when I wanted to try everything I could on guitar. I knew how to play better than most 14 year olds, yes, but I still didn’t know half as much as I do now,” he explained, never looking away from the musicians. 

You saw movement at his waist, and when you looked down to observe, he seemed to be playing a guitar part in the air. And you knew if he picked up the instrument right now, he’d match one of the men in time. Whichever one he was currently studying - you couldn’t tell. 

“I don’t know why I never recorded myself playing both parts. Synced them over each other,” Jake mused, still playing in the air. “I used Garage Band like it was an addictive fucking drug–.”

“You can say that again,” Sam inserted, acting annoyed but still grinning so wide all the same. 

“But I just forgot about it, I guess,” the older, long-haired brother continued, as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I’m getting the urge to do it again now – it’s coming back strong,” he chuckled, looking down at his fingers with a brow raised–just like he’d do if he was actually playing. 

It was fucking hot to watch him play so intently with nothing there to support him. Only his mind, full of the memorized chords from years ago. And to a song that meant so much to you. 

“I’m sure the guys at the studio would let you do it with their recording equipment,” Danny offered, also watching the famed musicians with intrigue, glancing over at Jake. 

Jake sucked in a breath, dropping his air guitar before leaning back against Maya, closing his eyes and sighing with one particular scratch of her nails against his scalp as she tugged out the french braid to start another.

Gag. You could vomit at the sight of their mushy-gushy behavior.

Your hand floated to your stomach to remind yourself of one thing you had that she didn’t. 

“Nah,” Jake sighed, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “I feel like it has to be done without the expensive stuff. It has to be recorded in a way that baby Jake would have recorded it. . . I just–,” He wrinkled a brow, releasing a grumble under his breath.

There was something he was concerned about. . .

And, as he sat back up to watch the men finish out the song, Maya made a little huffing noise, crossing her arms over her impressive chest. But, in all of her perfection, she covered the noise with a small smile and a shake of her head. Just seemed to be joking with her little bratty act.

Oh, how cute and funny.

She’d looked over at Sammy, who’d made a little sound at Jake’s words. You followed the line of sight.

“What’s the deal, brother?” Sammy questioned, leaning forward to emphasize his care for Jake. 

“I just don’t have the time to do a little side project like that–can’t even think about prioritizing it,” he replied, combing a hand through his hair, untangling anything that resembled a braid. Maya did outwardly pout at that. She whined his name and said something about her hard work. You couldn’t help the tiny smirk that lifted your lips at the scene. You tried your best to hide it, and just focused on the screen again. “And even calling it a project sounds silly with everything else going on in life right now.”

Before you could feel too guilty for the situation under your palm that added to everything going on in his life, Josh spoke up with a giant gasp.  

“Baby Jake!” The curly-headed twin exclaimed. You all looked in his direction, equally confused with knitted brows. “That’s just it; record it like you would have back then with the intention that it’s for your baby. Something fun to do. But. . . You’ll prioritize the time if it’s for the baby. If you look at it that way, it won’t seem silly at all," he wiped his palms, arm back over Elsie as he finished with jazz hands. "Ta-da!"

As the song concluded and the next ad started (an ad for baby diapers, of all things), Maya was urgently pushing Jake out of the way, claiming she needed to pee. And as she passed between your line of sight and Jake’s, you realized you were zoning out on him when your eyes met his, just as she rounded the couch. 

He gave you a small smile, his eyes staying on yours, floating down to where your belly hid under your blanket, and then back to your face when he responded to Josh’s idea. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a good plan, Josh,” he said, gaze never once leaving yours. 

The fire that rose from the pit of your tummy, all the way to your cheeks was not a new feeling with Jake, but for some reason. . . this time, it felt unlike any time ever before. 

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Everyone had stayed, having decided to lounge on couches for the night to sleep. They were all in equally deep slumbers (save for Maya, most likely still completely awake and waiting for Jake in his bed). 

You’d all stayed up until the wee hours of the morning–much later than you had in a long time. The only way you’d been able to make it, the tiny cat naps you’d dozed in and out of. As you’d done that, everyone else had continued on with their little YouTube game. 

Now, here you were, completely exhausted, practically dragging yourself to bed, ready to sleep. Just barely managed to wash your face before Jake had hopped into the bathroom, right after you, to brush his teeth.

But before you could make it inside your room, he passed by behind you. You weren’t even looking. You’d just smelled his heavenly cologne, a favorite scent of yours (and the baby’s, apparently) flood the space around you. You knew he wasn’t actually drenched in the smell of sandalwood and vanilla, but your baby-powered-super-senses could’ve convinced you otherwise. He smelled delicious and you could easily drown in him. 

Though, instead of focusing on that, you let yourself act on something that was threatening to leave your lips. No matter how hard you tried to stop it, your tired brain wouldn’t let the words halt. 

“Please don’t stop pursuing your dream or any other thing just because of everything that’s happening with me and the baby,” you rushed out, peeking up through your lashes for a moment before locking eyes with your hand on the knob of your door. “I don’t want you to ever feel like this is taking up too much space in your life or causing any unnecessary stress. You can back out whenever you want if you feel like that’s what you need and I won’t be upset with you for—.”

“No,” Jake responded, soft and stern, moving to stand in front of you. You had no choice but to look up at him, he was standing so close to you. His eyes bore into yours. “I’m not going to back out. I couldn’t do that–wouldn’t ever do that. I want this. I promise. It’s everything else, I think, that’s stressful. The baby is something I get to look forward to,” he reassured, his voice wavering just enough to worry you. 

But you didn’t let it get to you. Tiredness prevailed above any doubtful emotion you could’ve mustered. You could only sleepily nod your head at his words. 

“The baby inspires me even more to make it all happen,” he rasped in a velvety tone, assuring you. After, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Your sleepy eyes slowly followed the motion. You wished it was you. “Everything else is still exciting, too. . . But it’s a lot and it gets me thinking about how different everything is about to be. It’s scary. But– it’s. . . the baby makes it all seem brighter. Better. I’m not just doing it for me anymore. Not even for my brothers. It’s for my baby,” his full lips spread into a loose, close-mouthed grin. “Our baby.”

Your tummy flip-flopped and all you wanted to do at that moment was kiss him. You felt the slightest inkling that he wanted the same, with the way he’d brought his body in front of you, closer than he needed to. But. . . you blamed it all on tiredness. There was no way you could trust yourself to make actual, coherent assumptions. You were getting carried away, and even though you wondered of the possibility that he could want it, you cut off the idea. 

Tired or not, you knew one thing. He didn’t want you. He had a girlfriend. A real relationship with a woman much more beautiful than you. So, before you could get trapped in his big, beautiful brown eyes any longer, you decided to bid him goodnight. 

Though, just as you’d opened your door to go into your room, he stopped you. “Hey, real quick,” he cleared his throat. You looked up at him, confused at the sudden stop. “Maya–um,” he shook his head, brows furrowed as he messed with his bottom lip. “She told me that she wanted me to help however I possibly could. She wants me to be attentive and helpful in any way I can be.” 

He was right there - a step away. His breath, fanning over your face. You could smell the mint of his toothpaste. “Obviously with limits,” his voice lowered a bit as his eyes peered down at you. 

What was that supposed to mean? Surely he didn’t mean. . . But, you responded the only way you could think to.

“Obviously. . .,” you trailed off, raising a brow out of complete confusion for the conversation’s direction. “I wouldn’t want you to cross any sort of boundary. You’re in a relationship with her. Not me.” 

“Yeah. She’s my girlfriend,” he replied, voice rasping on a hitched breath. His body felt as though it was wrapped around yours in an act of protection. He’d brought his hand up, above your heads, as his body curved in towards you. After a pause, he continued. “But I don’t want to make any boundaries with the baby ever. Not at all. I want to be present. From now until always.” 

Suddenly, the moment was gone for you. There was no way he’d ever meant it as anything more. All he’d meant was you needed to remember there were boundaries. This was all about the baby. It was selfish to ever think any different. 

You knew better than to believe any different than that. Your thoughts got out of hand so damn easily these days. Why did you let them wander so far when you fucking knew better?

You backed up, your back touching the doorframe behind you. He scrunched his brows, but you weren’t sure why he was acting confused. It was late. You were definitely imagining things. He was just tired, too. . . that was all. 

“So. . .,” he cleared his throat. “Just let me know however I can help with the baby. Please.” 

“Okay,” you whispered with a quiet nod of your head.

“Okay,” he muttered with a gentle, distant grin. He nodded his head as well. And right before he opened the door to his room, his words barely touched the air as he told you goodnight. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 28, 2022

Covid. Gia had Covid.

Your heart broke for her having to deal with that absolutely terrible illness. And your nerves were climbing up the wall at not being able to see her. She wasn’t so bad that you couldn’t email her if you had questions or needed advice. But, you also knew better than to bother someone who was sick with something like Covid. 

So, you were spending the time that you would have been gearing up to go to Gia’s office, on this chilly autumn day, pacing back and forth in your living room. Cuticles thin from chewing and perspiration accumulated at your hairline and under your arms, you weren’t sure what to do. 

The idea of losing time on healing before the baby arrived was stressful to say the very least. You didn’t want to be any less of a mother than your baby deserved. He or she deserved a mentally stable mom. . . and in order to get there, you required several hours on Gia’s couch. 

All that could wave through your one-track mind was how terrible you felt for being so stressed about your healing while Gia was so sick. She was the one who needed to get healthy sooner rather than later.

You tried to remember the words Gia had put at the tail end of the email she had sent. She’d put in a few words that reminded you how well she knew you.

Don’t stress too much about the session being cancelled. :) Things happen and we have plenty of time, y/n.

Those words, typed specifically to assure you. Except, you’d worked yourself up too much for it to work very well after you’d read the title line of her email. Just a few, simple words: Out Sick – Sorry!

If even Gia’s words weren’t helping to calm your nerves, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through to the next appointment.

After an hour of feeling unsure about literally everything, you decided the only way you were going to make it was by doing some other form of self care. And the first thing that came to your mind was food. Food always sounded good these days (nausea taking a backseat thanks to your meds and second trimester), and it would help you feel better while also supporting the baby’s health in the womb.

But it took you no time to get sad because you didn’t know what kind of food you wanted. . .

You’d resolved to just not being able to win at life for the day when you heard the front door jingle on the other side with the sound of a key unlocking. 

Jake was home. Fuck. He was home to take you to therapy and you hadn’t even thought to text him and tell him– shit. Instead of doing what he would have rather been doing, he’d made a useless trip home. 

It didn’t take him long at all to notice you sulking next to the window, face-palming next to the it, where you’d been people watching minutes ago, from your vantage point a few stories up. 

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, concerned, as he came right up beside you. “What’s going on?”

Whenever you looked up from having your eyes pressed into your hand, you refocused your eyes on his worried ones. “I don’t have counseling today,” you sullenly stated. And rather than going into any more details, you just apologized. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. There was no point in you coming home.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he calmly reassured. Again, you found his line of sight. His eyes felt like the sweetest reassurance. “You look like you could use someone to talk to.”

“Don’t waste your time on me,” you waved him off, scrunching your brows in an effort to seem nonchalant. “Just go back to doing what you were doing.”

“Well, I don’t have any plans because I was planning on being with you all night,” he laughed just a bit, under his breath. He flicked at the tip of his nose with a pointer finger. 

“All night?” Your stomach swirled at the thought, but you also felt incredible guilt at stealing that time from him. “God, I’m so sorry, Jake.”

“Please don’t be.” It was his turn to wave you off while shaking his head. He swept a hand through his hair. “I’m glad I was here– glad that I am here.”

You didn’t really know what to say. There wasn’t anything you two could do that wouldn’t get completely awkward after a while. Right? It was only four o’clock and he planned on spending the rest of the evening with you? What were you going to–?

“What do you want to do?” He asked, adjusting his jacket over his shoulders. “Wanna stay here? Order in? Go out and do something?”

Going out sounded like a date. . . and that felt wrong to do. But you also absolutely despised the idea of staying inside of the apartment to wallow for a second longer. . . . 

And it didn’t take you very long to realize you were still wanting food, hunger starting to feel like empty weight in your rounded tummy. 

“Food?”

“Food,” he agreed with a grin, winking at you before turning around, effectively making your brain turn to complete mush as you grabbed your own jacket and followed him out the door. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

The night was one of the best you’d had in a while.

He’d taken you to get Panera. Weird, yes, but their tomato basil soup had been calling your name the second it’d come to mind, as you'd searched places to eat.

And after sitting across from each other and just talking about his budding career and your classes, at Panera Bread. . . he'd told you he wanted to take you somewhere special. And, just as the sun was setting, you’d pulled up to a Barnes & Noble on your side of Brooklyn.

“Tell me why you’re stressed,” he’d said, putting his car in park.

A used, four-door (hard top, thankfully) Jeep. An all-black, mid-thousands model. After riding around in it all evening, you’d noticed it rode really well. It was just slightly strange that he had a car. He hadn’t had one when you’d been. . .

You cleared your throat, back on the subject at hand. “I never said I was stressed,” you stated, feeling ready to combat the truth. For whatever stupid reason. 

“You didn’t have to say it,” he breathed deeply through his nose, turning down the classic rock station he’d been playing. “I know you.”

Deciding it wasn’t worth a debate (because it was the truth–you had been very stressed earlier), you sighed; running a hand through your loose, natural waves, you responded. “Well, I’m just. . . this therapy is for me, yes, sure. But it really is mostly for the baby,” you explained. He sighed and you placed the hand you’d combed through your hair on your rounded bump, covered by your favorite oversized sweatshirt. “And having one session lost that I can’t be working on getting healed for the baby stressed me the fuck out. Still kind of is,” you admitted, glancing out of the small, rectangular windshield. “I just want to be completely better by the time the baby is here.”

“What are you most worried about?” He softly pondered, prompting you to talk through it. 

“That I’ll be just like my mom and project my hurt onto my baby,” you said wetly, swallowing the thickness in your throat. “I have so much in me that I don’t understand and it scares me how much I don’t remember – can’t remember,” you blinked to allow the new tear to make its way down your cheek before quickly reaching to wipe it away. “And it scares the shit out of me. It makes me. . . this terrible person to other people. I need to understand all of me, so my baby gets the best parts of me.” Sniffling, you swiped at your cheeks to rid yourself of the few more tears that cascaded down your cheeks. “And I don’t even remember the last time I saw those best parts. . . . so if I can’t see,” you huffed, your eyes finally piercing his, which stayed on you, intently listening “H-how is my child going to see them?”

Jake hummed, rubbed his chin. He never took his deep-set, amber-brown irises from yours. “It’s funny,” he started, a little grin ghosting over his lips as he spoke, “I’m seeing those best parts of you right now. I see those 'best parts of you' quite often.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you unzipped and reached into your belt bag for your heart monitor phone, willing it to not go off. There were butterflies wreaking havoc in your tummy. Naturally, your hands found their way to your tummy. His eyes followed that particular movement.

“How do you–?” You sniffed, shaking your head, zipping your bag back after a moment. “How do you see those things? I haven’t seen them since before you came into my li–- for a long time. And never consistently. . .,” you rambled, eyebrows drawn together, thumbs rubbing circles over the tight bump. “I’ve always been a bit of a wild card with my emotions. And finding out more of what I'd done from Elsie. . . I'm just way too similar to my–.”

“Do you think she was as self aware as you are?”

“I don’t know,” you answered, honestly. You would go with no, but. . . “I don’t know her well enough to make that judgment.”

“Okay,” he nodded, sticking his bottom lip out. A grin found its way to his plush lips, looking so kissable in the cramped space of the car. You leaned further into the door so as to not tempt yourself of anything. He continued, “Well, I would say she probably wasn’t. Or else you wouldn’t be wracked with so much significant trauma. She wouldn’t have left you hanging with so much to deal with. . . she would have been there for you. Helped you because she would've wanted to help herself. Would've been self aware enough for that,” he emphasized. “Parents say stupid shit. They do stupid shit. They’re humans. What matters is how they ultimately react.”

“But I react so brashly, Jake,” you argued, needing to be heard. “What happens if I do that to our–?”

“You won’t. I know you won’t,” he consoled you, his eyes so earnest as he conveyed the words. “You struggle with saying stupid shit. I do, too. So does everyone. You’ll figure out how to handle situations better, but it won’t be as hard as you think,” he shook his head, taking the keys from the ignition. “Not for you. You are determined. And you’re not this monster you’ve made up in your head.”

“Well, –,” you started, interrupting him, only to be cut off. 

“And your best parts are too many to name right now,” he surmised, winking at you once more. You rubbed wider, nervous circles on your tummy. “But one of my favorites is your determination to help others. The way you care for others. And if a mother has those qualities,” he pointed a finger at your tummy, and trailed the finger up to point at your face. “She will be one helluva fantastic mother. I’m glad our baby will have you.”

“Thank you,” you replied after the words had actually cracked the surface of your mental warfare. No voice appeared to combat what he’d said, so you let them sink, all the way down into your brain to truly consider for later. You didn’t fight them. . . which you viewed as progress. “Thank you so much. I–I needed to hear those things. And you were the perfect person to hear them from,” you blushed, crinkling your nose with the words. A smile settled on your lips, eyes drying. “Because I know you’re going to be the best daddy to this baby. I’ve known it for a long time. . . So, it means a lot that you think the same. Seriously.”

“Of course I think so,” he smiled, glancing once more at your tummy. “And the way you're always holding our baby. . . you love her so, so much. You’re already so intentional about loving her.”

“Her?” You asked aloud, wondering why he’d chosen that gender. Your hands held tighter to your tummy at the assumption. “Why girl?”

He hummed, looking out the windshield, past your head, with a wide grin. “It just feels right,” he concluded, before motioning at the windshield, nodding towards it. “Look.”

You did as he said, turning to see a mother and son (presumably) traipsing up to the store, just past the nearest cart corral. The little boy was skipping, and the mother was watching her like the entire world started and stopped with the child. The sky was bluer because he was around. You felt that. 

“The way you’re watching them says enough, honey,” he concurred. There was that nickname again. . . Honey. Your heart skipped a beat at the term. “I see it all over you. You’re going to mess up. Parents do. My parents did a lot and I still think they’ve been the best parents.” When he gave a small, breathy laugh, you looked his way. He rubbed a finger over his bottom lip. “But what good parents do after they mess up is– they have humility and apologize. They show integrity to their child. You do that. Already. For me.”

Sitting across from him in the still air of the Jeep, you let your eyes bounce back and forth between his. His smell, warm, sweet, and woodsy, was enveloping every sense of your body, in the taut air of the vehicle. His breathing laced with yours, your heaving chest kept up with the rhythm of his. He was steadier than you. . . he seemed fine. 

You felt anything but. Your emotions were going haywire at everything he’d just said. The man he was to you. . . he was too good to be true. 

But, instead of letting yourself get sad that he wasn't yours, you looked at the store behind you and cleared your throat. It opened up your mind and the air in the car. He blinked a few times, tilting his head slightly, watching you. 

“Wondering why we’re here?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I thought– let’s get out,” he said, pausing the conversation to unload from the Jeep. You followed his lead, taking the tall step as gracefully as you could to get down and out. The slip almost happened–but didn’t. Thank god. 

Joining him at the back of the car, you waited for him to lead the way and continue. You wrapped your jacket tighter around your body, over the sweatshirt. There was a bite in the air that hadn’t been there before. Jake tightened his jacket, too, tucking his hands in the pockets of it. “I brought us here because I knew you were stressed. I knew it probably had to do with the baby,” he started, looking down at you. You felt his stare, looking up to meet it. “So I thought maybe coming here to get some books to study and prepare would help you feel more at peace about whatever was on your mind,” he drew in a breath before blowing it out into the cold, dry air. “And now that I know it had to do with preparedness, this was kind of–.”

“Perfect,” you finished, nudging him with your shoulder. 

He looked down for a second, his eyes read an unknown emotion before he kept on. “I know you probably have a lot of books already, but–.”

“There’s no such thing as too many,” you replied, leading the way through the automatic doors. 

“Precisely,” he agreed, coming to a stop as soon as the two of you had entered. Raising a brow, he looked down at you before throwing a thumb over to the in-store coffee house. “Want something?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” you responded with a light smile, walking toward the smell of comforting coffee and cakes. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

He’d footed the bill the whole night. . . including the surplus of books from Barnes & Noble. It had been a hefty bill, but he’d refused to let you pay. He had convinced you it was part of co-parenting – sharing purchases. And this was one of his first purchases to make for the baby.

“This was a good idea,” you mentioned at the end of the evening, juggling your one bag of books that you’d insisted Jake let you carry (the lightest one, after compromise) as you led the way up the stairs of your complex. “Focusing on other ways we can prepare for the baby, rather than worrying about what we can’t control.”

“I have a decent idea every now and then,” he chuckled, out of breath as he handled the bulk. 

Once you made it to the door, you unlocked it for the two of you.

And, for a moment, it felt so domestic.

It felt like a dream you shouldn’t dream. Arriving home after a big shopping run, walking through the door together as you laughed at the heaviness of bags and discussed a few of the books you’d chosen.

And as you made your way through the door finally, it broke your heart to see the night go. He wasn’t necessarily acting ready to end it, but the impending ending made your stomach turn. You wanted this for longer. 

He was going on and on about all of the things he’d researched as of late concerning babies and pregnancy and everything in between. You decided on grabbing a Canada Dry from the fridge, letting him sort the books on the counter into categories as he kept conversation easily.

Every now and then, you offered a small response to show you were listening, but otherwise, you let him talk. You loved listening to him talk about all of this. 

It made your heart feel ten times bigger. Though, as you took a sip of your ginger ale, watching him sort the books, your heart began to sink instead. 

You couldn’t help how much you adored his desire to learn about all things ‘baby’. He was already so good at his job as dad.

The way you’d felt all night–so peaceful with him. . . you knew it was good for you. He was literally your mental safe place (you hadn’t told him that though. Absolutely not). But. . . you knew it couldn’t go past the feeling of good friendship. Co-parenthood.

The unfortunate part, though, was that you really felt unable to stop the way you were feeling for him. It felt new and familiar all at once.

Though, you knew you couldn’t let yourself feel that way. You shouldn’t.

But with the way his eyes lit up when you looked up at him again, after staring at your feet in your whirlwind of contemplation, you knew you were doomed. 

There was no stopping the way that you felt about him. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

One morning at the very end of November, you woke up with a cold. A terrible one. The same cold that every other person in your classes was seeming to come down with. Theo had been gone with it all week, and you saw him more frequently than not to study. You’d decided on one or two days a week after class. There were also the few people who sat around you in class, who’d come down with it.

So, it was due time for you. 

Normally, you would have tried to make it through the day. But, you’d done enough reading to learn that coming down with a serious infection like the flu or Covid could lead to a baby’s fetal development getting stunted. So, you played it safe and decided to stay home until you felt better.  

You had called in to work that morning. And just after that, you’d emailed the professor you had that day to let  him know. Everyone you had spoken to was understanding, luckily, which helped you to sleep very peacefully. You only hoped that the extra sleep wasn’t just helpful to you, but also–mostly–to the baby.

Sleeping off the sick seemed the best option. You hadn’t really had the mental energy that morning to look into safe medicine to take for colds during pregnancy. So, sleeping it was.

Your colds were always intense–all of your sicknesses were. When you got sick, it never failed to knock you on your ass. So instead of stressing over it all that morning, you’d chosen sleep as the easier route.

You had been hoping that you’d wake up from a long nap feeling refreshed and better. . .but. . . you were not so lucky.

When your eyes fluttered open for the second time that day to find what was left of the evening sun peeking through your curtains, you officially knew it was time to figure something out. Your eyes were burning–hurt to open. There was an ache settled firmly in every bone in your body–weren’t sure if you were cold or hot. . . 

You were definitely sick. More than a cold. No two ways about it.

When you turned to your bedside table for a drink from your Stanley, you found your bedside table had a couple new additions since you’d fallen asleep. There was a brand new Stanley sitting next to your old one. One you’d eyed for a few minutes online a week or so ago, and then decided against due to the monstrously obnoxious size. . . 

You’d talked to Jake about it after he’d noticed your pensive face looking at your phone screen for longer than necessary. . . And now, there it sat on your white, wooden night stand. A 64 ounce, rose quartz Stanley, in all of its glory. 

And leaning against it and next to it were a concoction of helpful remedies with a couple of sticky notes to explain each of their benefits. The handwriting gave him away. Jake. In his scrawl, he detailed what to take and when, which ones you could take together. He’d even written out the link to a website talking about pregnancy-safe cold meds. There was also a fruit punch Gatorade. When you reached out, it was still cold. He’d been in recently.

Moving on from the drink and meds, you glanced at the Stanley and saw it had a sticky sitting underneath it, waiting to be read. 

Plenty of water will help you and the baby stay healthy. It was worth it 

It had perfect timing and came in the mail today of all days

:) –Jake

The note effectively had your head spinning from something other than sickness. . .his kind gesture, making your stomach do soft flips. Your hand floated to touch your tummy at the idea of him doing so sweet for you (and for the baby–his baby).

After reading his advice on what to take, you went ahead and took some Tylenol for your headache and body aches, then used a nasal spray to help loosen up whatever drainage you could. The Vicks rub he’d left had been a welcome solvent on your chest, temples, and under your nose. 

But, it didn’t take long for your stomach to start rumbling, so you took that as your sign to find something that would ease the scratch in your throat and warm you up. 

You went out to the kitchen for food, holding your brand new Stanley, taking several healthy sips of the iced water from it. When you bent down to pour food in Stevie’s dish, you realized there was already kibble in there. . . that Jake undoubtedly left for her.

You were sure your heart monitor was picking up all kinds of strange palpitations at his gestures. 

Around the time you’d noticed Stevie’s food, you went to text him to tell him thank you. Only to find he’d sent a text about twenty minutes ago saying he’d left for the night. And while it made your heart sink, you knew you had no right to feel sad about it. . . especially when he’d done so much to help you before you’d even woken from your nap. 

To add emphasis to that thought, you noticed at just the right time that he’d also left a couple Panera soups waiting on the counter for you. God. . . he was wonderful. You read the note he’d left with the two little sealed containers.

Soup is the best when you’re sick :) 

–Jake 

Your body was already hurting a little less after you’d heated and almost instantly downed one of the delicious soups. A warm shower sounded more than tempting, so you didn’t waste time throwing away your trash and making your way to grab the shower steamer pods he’d left for you on your bedside table (they were a pregnancy-safe brand, he’d assured on a sticky, which made you softly smile). 

After placing them in the heating shower to begin dissolving the comforting notes of lavender and rose, you padded back to the kitchen for your new Stanley when you noticed something on the counter.

In an arranged group on the counter sat a few books you'd bought the other night. You recognized them. They sat with a notebook, stickies, and pens. Two of the books were closed, stacked, and tabbed with stickies–all bright pinks, greens, and blues.

Though, there was one more, face up and open, as if he’d had to leave unplanned and hadn’t had time to shut it. There was a pad of stickies sitting atop the page it was opened to. A pen was on top of the pad, which, when you walked closer, realized there was plenty of Jake’s scrawl already written on it. The page had a heading that read:

Props and pillows and sleep, oh my! 

And he’d written the following on his sticky, which lay upon the page: 

–Look into pregnancy pillows for y/n

–Be patient!! 

–Do what you can to help her find the right set up for sleep or rest 

–Adhere to her sleep schedules (no loud sounds or bright lights when she’s asleep, etc) 

–She needs sufficient rest (has healthy outcomes for her and the baby)

You went to look at the cover of the book, but before you could look at it, you stopped yourself. For some reason, it felt like an invasion of his privacy. Even though he’d left it open on the counter, these were his notes, not yours.

But just before you could walk any further to the bathroom and ignore his notes, the book stacked on top of the other had a note stuck to the top of it. And, written in bold, black sharpie, were the words Remember: Do WHATEVER you can to help y/n – it’s for the BABY!

The words it’s for the baby being written with finality at the end of the statement reminded you that chances were, all of this was not really for you. . . definitely not. You didn’t deserve that from him. No, whatever was for you was done for the ultimate benefit of the baby.

All of everything he did was for the baby. All of the words of reassurance. The trip to the bookstore. Panera. The meds tonight. Taking you to counseling. . . ev-ery-thing.

And that was fine. . .

So why was a tear drawn to your eye as you sped away from the book that sat on top of the counter? And why had you felt the need to go back to your room on the way to the shower, to get the Stanley cup you’d bought yourself? Why did the thought of using the one Jake bought for you make your stomach feel all tangled and weird?

Because he doesn’t care about you, a voice nagged, reminding you. It was a familiar voice, filtering in from the dark tresses of your mind. He doesn’t care about you. This is for the baby. So if you feel like it’s for you, know it’s not. Let him help the baby. Don’t be selfish. The baby matters most. 

You couldn’t help but agree with the voice. The baby did matter most. Not you.

So, you resolutely chose to wait out the calming scent of the steamer, until it all pooled down the drain. Stepping in when the scent was gone seemed the only option, as the way the shower calmed you was only for your benefit and not necessarily the baby’s. 

Yes, it sounded fucked up and foolish in your head. But you were trying to navigate these thoughts the best you fucking could and you were grasping for something that made sense. But all you were doing was making no sense. 

God, what the fuck, y/n?

And, stupidly, for whatever fucking selfish reason (because you knew for sure you were selfish–evidence proved that), you found yourself hiccuping on tears that hurt your already-aching body, under the lukewarm spray of the shower.

He didn't truly care about you. Not really. It was all for the baby.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Once your mind was lucid after your little cold-sickness stint, you noticed stretch marks had started showing up. One by one, they’d started becoming stark and apparent and made you feel gross. 

The creams and oils you’d ordered seemed to help the slightest bit with the new darkness of the few tiger stripe-like lines. They truly looked heinous against your otherwise unmarred skin. You’d felt insecurities really begin to kick in after you’d cried in the shower on the first day out of three of your sickness. 

During the latter three days of your cold (or whatever the hell it was), you’d sulked and avoided Jake’s help in whatever way you could. You wanted his help with the baby. Only with the baby. But the baby wasn’t there yet. 

So, you didn’t need his help. He didn’t need to care about you. Only the baby. It was common sense. And it would be fine. 

But it still made you feel oddly unwanted. The feeling didn’t matter. 

But, for you, with your utterly complicated past, feeling unwanted came hurtling towards you, without any sign of stopping.

Since you were a child, feeling unwanted in your mother’s grimy home, a whole range of other negative emotions accompanied that familiar feeling. Most call it depression. Your oldest friend.

And, it had officially lit up for this new stage of your life. Why enjoy things for too long? It wasn’t worth it. Right?

So, the way your skin was beginning to scar due to growth you absolutely couldn’t control. . . it just set misery aflame in your amped-up insecurities and dispirit. 

On the first night of December, the depressive thoughts persisted. You stood with your big sleep t-shirt tucked up under your heavy-ass boobs as you lathered your tummy up with the last oil in your new, nightly anti-stretch mark routine. As you did so, tears pooled in your eyes at the sight of yourself. 

And, seemingly out of nowhere, your thoughts picked up on a different train. . . something you hadn’t really taken time to be super upset about yet. The thought slipped in amongst the rest of your woes. 

It was the thought of being a single mother.

And while it didn’t matter and wasn’t completely true, because Jake would be there, you’d still be doing it on your own in a sense. You would be on your own. The two of you definitely weren’t together. He wouldn’t be there with you. He would just be there, doing his own thing for the baby, with Maya by his side. (Nausea crept up at her name alone. Gag.)

You were going to be a single mother. Just like your own moth–. No. You locked eyes with yourself in the mirror, momentarily stopping the massaging of your belly. 

I will not let my mind go there, you asserted silently, staring daggers through your reflection. I am not her. I am not. I can’t be. I won’t be. What would Gia say? What would Jake say?

Amidst your crying and sorrowful thoughts, the knock on the door of the bathroom kind of spooked you. And, in the depths of your despair, you couldn’t really care fucking less who saw you right now. That was just how pitiful you felt. 

“Come in,” you said, sniffing and trying to cover the sound of tears in your voice by swallowing them. 

When the door began opening, you had to scoot over a little to let Jake in. You knew it was him. He’d been home all night with you, while Maya was busy doing whatever the hell she needed to do for her job. 

He’d spent a couple hours catching up on New Girl with you and it had been nice. Except, anytime you thought about how it wasn’t really for your benefit and rather him just being your friend for the baby. . . It just wasn't the same.

“You okay?” He carefully pondered, coming to stand slightly behind you in the mirror.

But, as soon as he appeared next to you and saw your current state of dress, his eyes went immediately to your bare tummy. He stayed trained on the bump that continued to grow, day by day. Still not huge, but definitely not small.

Insecurities were instantly blossoming at his stare. He was not looking away for anything, lost in a trance. He was probably in shock at just how big your belly had gotten, compared to the last time he’d seen you like this. Chances were, he was repulsed by what he saw. 

You effectively decided the stretch marks had been tended to enough for the night. You went to pull your Pratt shirt over the exposed skin. But to your surprise, his hand was shooting out, around your body, just as quick, to stop you before you could pull it down too far. 

He definitely succeeded in stopping you, holding your wrist. You were in shock – skin flaming at his touch . . .felt it everywhere. 

“I want to see,” he requested, sort of breathless. What? He wanted to–? “You look–this is–.”

“Ugly? Fat? Disgust–?”

“Beautiful,” he firmly stated, his eyes finally locking with yours in the mirror at the word. “This is beautiful. You are beautiful.”

His hand still held your hand over shirt, not daring to touch your belly. You couldn’t move to make the position change. The fact that he’d just called you beautiful was like a lightning bolt to your entire nervous system.

“I’m not–,” you shook your head, at a loss for words. You did not fully agree with him. Was it beautiful that you were holding the baby? Was the baby beautiful inside? Yes. But were you loving your body these days? Absolutely not. “The stretch marks. . . I’m so fucking big. . .”

“You aren’t,” he suddenly dropped his hand, and you were missing his touch as soon as it was gone. He went to lean against the bathroom counter, facing you. His eyes bounced between your belly and your eyes, settling on your irises as he continued. “You are not any of the things you called yourself. I don’t think any of those things when I see you. . . I don’t even understand how you could–,” he shook his head, blinking once before finding your eyes. “I just see a woman who is special to me. A beautiful woman who is carrying my baby.”

Carrying my baby. 

Those words. . . they did something to you. Your palms were sweaty as you held tighter to your shirt, rolled under your boobs.

“The baby is beautiful,” you concurred. And surprisingly, you didn’t trip over your words. “But I am–.”

“You are beautiful. I am talking about you right now,” he stated, with no room for disagreement in his tone. “Don’t discount that. Please.”

“Are you just saying these things because I’m carrying your baby?”

Where did that come from? Shit. Nothing like baring your most vulnerable feelings to the very person you feel most vulnerable in front of. . . 

“No,” he said without pause. He sounded sure. “You have always been beautiful. It’s just. . . enhanced now. I can’t. . .it’s hard to explain.”

You wanted to ask him to try to explain it but you didn’t.

All of a sudden, you felt confident to ask more. 

“You don’t just think so because of the baby? Do you just care about me because of the baby?”

Jesus. There it was. 

“We’ve gone over this,” he sighed, rubbing circles against his temple. He didn’t keep on with the action, instead stuffing his hands in his pockets as he found your eyes with his. 

“I know, but I just. . . I feel like I don’t matter. I mean, I really don’t right now do I?" You sarcastically laughed, eyes watering. "All I’m good for is being the big, fat incubator who hates her body and has ugly fucking stretch marks because my belly won’t slow the fuck–.”

“It’s good that it won’t slow down,” he reassured, amber-brown irises smiling with his lopsided grin. “It means the baby’s healthy and growing.”

“But you do think I’m an incubator,” you stubbornly persisted. “Didn’t say anything to argue that.” Your tone unnecessarily snipped with your next words, “Jake, you just want to help the baby. I know this. So just wait until the baby’s here. Don’t worry about me or making me feel better if you just want to help the–.”

“Where are you getting this from?”

You stared at each other for a few moments. . . . He gave you a look that told you he could see you.

“My mind is a really twisty place,” you huffed a humorless laugh, rubbing your own temples now. “It never shuts the fuck up,” you paused–didn’t want to say anything about the sticky note on the book that had spurred the thoughts. The same thoughts you’d voiced the night you’d told him. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve already been insecure about all of this shit. It’s just–.”

“I don’t view you as an incubator,” he insisted, crossing his arms, strong fingers wrapping around stronger biceps. “I view you as a brave fucking woman who is being selfless as hell. You’re growing a fucking human, y/n,” he said, grin widening. You felt your lips lift, too. He continued, “And I can’t help but be amazed by that alone every. single. day. And while that is beautiful, yes - I won’t say it isn’t because it is,” he unwaveringly asserted. 

“But. . . it’s more,” he kept on. “You’ve been this woman-the one in front of me - for a long ass time–before I ever knew you. Though, since I’ve known you, I’ve had the privilege of seeing this woman. I knew your heart right off the bat–since the day Josh told me about this girl who was letting a man she didn’t know move into her fucking home. Just because she cared about the situation. Didn't even know me," He raised a brow, lips quirking as yours did the same. “You’re selfless and–,” he paused. 

His eyes shut briefly before opening to yours. Except this time. . . they were wet with emotion. Yours were, too. Your heart was pounding and you felt warm with a blush, from your chest to your face.

“And kind. So thoughtful when you don’t need to be. You care a whole fuckin’ lot for others and sometimes it gets you in trouble because you get in your head and it hurts you,” he said, brows dipped with a shake of his head. “But the fact that your heart is the way it is in spite of everything you’ve been through–I can’t even imagine, y/n. All of that and so much fucking more makes you beautiful,” he tucked his hair behind his ears before they went back into his pockets. “So, no, it’s not just because of the baby. It’s just one more thing that makes you beautiful.”

You were utterly speechless, and you couldn’t stop the wetness in your own eyes, a tear trickling down your own cheek. . . How could he even begin to say all of those things about you when you’d been so terrible to him? Always made assumptions?

You weren’t sure how much time passed when you finally swallowed down your own tears and found the most simple words you could mutter. “Thanks, Jake,” you whispered.

“Don’t thank me,” he winked. It clicked with you that you could faintly hear your heart monitor phone going off in your room. It was alerting you of unusual heart activity. No fucking wonder - with the poetry the man had just spoken. He heard it, too, apparently, brows wrinkling. “What is that sound that’s been going off for the last few–?”

“My heart monitor phone. My heart is beating really fucking hard in my chest right now and the monitor picked up on the palpitations,” you blushed, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as you finally pulled your shirt down. “I’m not used to hearing people say things like that about me. It just catches me off guard when you–,” you coughed, blinking as you located some sense. “When anyone says sweet things like that to me.”

Then, you were back in time. Yet again. On the living room floor. That day it'd rained. . . a quiet, gray morning. He'd said things so like what he'd said just now. The same day those Aretha Franklin songs had sealed a place in your heart. Well– both of your hearts, apparently. . . according to Jake at the bar.

A comfortable silence had crept over the two of you that morning, he’d so obviously been watching you– admiring you–not to be mistaken for anything else as you'd laid atop him.

His next words confirmed it. 

“Even in the grayness of this morning, you shine so bright,” he said, almost absentmindedly. “You fucking glow, y/n. You’re just brilliant.”

All you’d been able to utter was a measly, “Thank you.” The sound of tears in your throat, behind your response, had surprised you.

“Has no one ever told you?” Jake had pondered, his warm chest breathing steadily and comfortably beneath you.

You’d explained how Josh and Elsie were kind to you, but. . . “hearing you say something like that. . .,” you’d emphasized to him. “Those words. . . It just feels good. I don’t know,” you’d shaken your head, a tear falling to meet his tanned chest. “And no one has ever said those exact words to me, no.”

“You are all of that and more, my lo—,” he’d cleared his throat, stopping himself from saying a word your heart was now longing so badly to hear. “You are so many things wrapped in one, y/n. So many fantastic things.”

“Stop,” you’d sniffed, more tears falling onto his chest. “You don’t have to say things like that. I promise I’ll still want to have sex with you if you don’t,” you’d laughed, wiping your leftover tears. The words had sounded funny (true, but still funny) as they’d left your mouth. 

“I want to tell you those things,” he’d said, firm in his response. “You deserve to hear those good things. Sex or not.”

And tonight had proven that he truly meant that statement. No sex, and still. . . .

But . . . goddamn. The sex. 

With that thought in mind, you couldn’t help but watch the sway of his ass in his tight black jeans as you followed out of the bathroom behind him. You bit your lip after bidding him goodnight– only able to think of how fucking badly you missed the sex. 

“I fucking love you,” he'd once told you - on the very night that had gotten you in this predicament. “And god, do I love fucking you. . .”

Not that word. . . Where had it come from just now?!

Love. Love. Love. Love. You hardly ever thought of him saying it to you–tried not to because it hurt and you knew it wasn’t true anymore.

But when he’d said those sweet things about you being beautiful just now. . . apparently, your mind couldn't help but chant the word . . .and the sound of him saying it to you. Why?! He was just being kind.

It was so hard wanting him and not being able to have him. . . Not like you ever actually had him - but before you fucked everything up with your stupid, hurtful words.

And, god, did you still want him. 

You couldn’t have him like that – all of the reasons were plain as day. But. . . at least you still had the memories. The wonderful memories. But being pregnant made the memories so much worse. . . because one little thought of how he felt inside of you had you actually throbbing for him.

As soon as you got to your bed, you were reaching into your bedside table for your favorite little vibrating instrument. The thought of that morning. . . the idea of having your breasts pushed against his bare chest again as he told you things just like he did tonight. . . You knew it wouldn’t take long for you to be unraveling. 

Before long, you were feeling all of the tremors you craved from Jake’s mouth, from the little toy held just right against your quivering bundle of nerves. And in less than five minutes, you were  shuddering, body tensing and releasing as you breathily moaned his name into your pillow.

-🌼🌼🌼-

December 4, 2022

Your week ended with a particularly exhausting day at the Black and Gold. 

Inventory had come out of nowhere. And, with Josh busy with his new career, it was mostly on you to prepare for it.

The two other girls who worked with you couldn’t give two shits and it showed when you’d shown up for a shift after theirs. Nothing was ever prepared in the evenings or the following mornings if they were in charge—and inventory week was no exception. 

In fact, it was glaringly more obvious when it was such an important week as inventory week. 

And having to do all of that after your few solid days of feeling like complete and utter crap and while being pregnant? It had been one of the longest days you’d had in your whole life (dramatic? Maybe. But whatever.). 

And to top it all off, you’d come home to the apartment being very warm to accommodate the cooler weather outside. 

For normal people, it probably felt nice to come into the warmth. And, most likely, it would’ve felt great to you before your pregnancy.

It was just too damn hot in the apartment tonight. You’d wanted to come home and take a warm shower to wash off the day and relax your sore muscles, but the temperature of the place had you throwing that idea away real quick.

So instead, you hurriedly went about feeding Stevie before rushing to your bedroom to dig out the box fan stuffed at the top of your closet. You’d bought it the summer the A/C had let out on you and your sister, and had kept it handy ever since for fear of it happening again. 

And at this exact moment, it felt just as hot to you as it did that summer the A/C quit working.

The fan was plugged in and blowing at full blast, towards the bed, in no time. It was sitting on top of your vanity seat, pointing right at your side of the bed. The speed at which you’d gotten it situated was astounding. And your sheets were cool and crisp and tempting you to climb into them when you pulled your covers down. 

But you couldn’t climb in yet with the way your bladder was squeezing and hurting with how badly you needed to pee. You’d put it off at the B&G, ready to get home. And then you’d come home to an uncomfortably steamy apartment.

Before heading to the bathroom, you stripped completely of your tight bra (thank you, God), your stuffy sweater and your leggings. Then, changed into a thin pair of pajama shorts and the first camisole you could find in your chest of drawers. And thankfully the thin strapped shirt had no built-in bra to constrict you. 

You’d welcomed Stevie into your room, her soft purrs and shaggy fur rubbing against your ankles as you promised her of your soon arrival back. 

Finally, after peeing and washing your face, you were ready to lay right in front of that fan. 

You stopped by the kitchen to quickly grab a Stanley from the counter– to find nothing. No Stanley. Neither of them.

Shit.

Slapping your forehead, you remembered almost instantly where they still sat on the counter at the Black and Gold. Both of them. Your rush to leave and rest from your long day had prompted you to forget a couple of your most prized possessions. 

Without your go-to water tumbler, you felt naked. And even more thirsty. 

Your day had been long and hard and now you were paying for it. Ugh.

When you scanned the kitchen for a quick alternative, your eyes immediately landed on the case of waters that Jake had recently bought for rehearsals only. You didn’t give two shits. You were bound to steal one to satiate your thirst. 

The one problem was. . .

It was sitting atop the fridge. Out of your reach. And with the few inches Jake had on you, he’d stacked it up there so it would be out of the way. You remembered him saying those exact words as you eyed the package now. Hated those words. 

Because not only was it out of the way, it was out of your reach. Out of your reach when you were dying of thirst and needed a drink of water. Stat.

Without thinking of risking anything, you went to grab a table chair quickly and quietly.

You had to be quiet because Jake was home and you did not want to wake him. Not when you were in cavewoman mode. . . and especially not with the way your tits and ass were flashing in your current choice of clothing. Or with the ugly heart monitor that was attached to your chest.

So, as carefully as possible, you sat the chair next to the side of the fridge with the waters and climbed on top of the seat to grab the case of Pure Life. Briefly, you worried about handling a heavy object while pregnant, but put it to the side when you realized pregnant women all over America handled water cases like this. You were fine. 

In the lapse of time it took you to contemplate holding the waters, and getting it off the counter, you misplaced the package on the counter top. And right as you silently stepped off the chair, the waters came crashing down onto the floor of the kitchen. The harsh sound of plastic smashing against the ground, filled with several heavy bottles of water, seemed to linger in the air around you as you stood there. One foot still on the chair, one off ready to go. 

Not able to change the fact that it crashed onto the ground, you just stood there and stared at the offensive case of water for a moment and cursed it for its loudness. But before you could silently wish harm for too long, you were bending to pick it up. 

Once it had been safely placed back on the counter with careful hands, you glanced towards Jake’s room. No movement or sound from it. He probably hadn’t heard — deep in sleep. 

And then. . . Your pregnant brain was sparking to life. 

There was a fucking Brita in the fridge. Filled to the brim with ice cold water, versus the room temperature water in the case. You’d just filled it this morning before class. And ice cold water sounded so much more appealing than lukewarm. . . 

If only you’d remembered before that you had the filtered water waiting in the pitcher. . . There wouldn’t have been a giant crash to possibly wake your roommate. 

Putting all of the irritation out of your mind, you went to grab a glass quickly from the cabinet, then hastily pried the pitcher from the refrigerator. With nervous hands, you poured until the glass was literally overflowing. 

“Shit!” You whispered at the mess, anxious to be rid of this situation. Tired and thirsty and still feeling warm even in your cami and shorts, your ears rushed with white noise.

This was not ending up like you’d planned.

The pitcher had safely found its spot back in the fridge and you were finally taking a drink from your (overfilled) glass, when you decided to multitask and grab a few paper towels to clean up the counter.

But when they wouldn’t rip off the roll, you yanked too hard. And that resulted in the water you were still drinking, to spill. It dripped down your chin, down your top mostly, and into the top of your shorts. Sensory overload was doing what it did best, overwhelming you—making you lose grip and had the glass falling from your hand and to the ground. 

That shatter was much worse than the water case falling, the shards thankfully large, but the few sparkling pieces of glass had you shushing Stevie away when she approached with curiosity. 

And if Stevie was approaching, then surely someone else had heard—

“Y/n, what’s going on?” Jake hushed, his voice close behind you, sounding like it was coming from the entryway of the kitchen. 

You stilled. Of course he'd woken up. You’d made a fuck ton of noise. Real nice.

You turned on your heel, just the slightest bit, to peek over your shoulder at him. And with the luck you’d already had with the night, the action made you effectively slip from the bit of water that had made its way under your foot. 

Falling, more like—and not using the counter to catch yourself like a sane person—towards the hard ground and glass, bump—baby— first—fuckfuckfu—.

Jake’s arms immediately wrapped around you, effectively stopping your fall. He hugged you tightly to him. One arm wrapped fully around your stomach, hand secured to your side, firmly in place. And the other hand— gripping your breast. . . fully. 

He had you wrapped up in him, ass pulled into his crotch to keep you steady.

And ho-ly fuck.

Your nipple hardened instantly at the feeling of him holding your chest. You’d been waiting to feel his hand hold your sore breasts. . . And your assumption had been correct. His touch eased the pain in them, felt deliciously good—his touch didn’t hurt them like everyone else seemed to do on contact. 

But then he began moving his hands away. 

No.

“I’m sorry— I-I didn’t mean to—.”

“Stay.”

The word just slipped out as you grabbed hold of his hand, keeping it secured where he’d initially placed it, carefully situating his fingers over your nipple for the sensation you longed for. 

And when you did, he squeezed the flesh through your thin shirt. His other hand gripped your hip, exposed just a bit by your shirt – the way his fingers held you there made you fearful that he’d leave marks.

You fucking hoped so. 

And fuck, if he didn’t like it, too. You could feel it against your ass.

The way he continued to massage his other hand on your chest, wrapping his fingers securely around your breast, feeling it, told you so, too. The impulsive urge to pull down the top of your shirt and give him full access was becoming more and more appealing by the second. 

But you didn’t do it. Didn’t want to do too much and scare him away. 

You just let his arm come to rest where he apparently wanted it to, fully over the other breast. He comfortably situated his arm, rubbed a purposeful thumb over your sensitive nipple. 

“Jake,” you whispered. Couldn’t help it. He elicited this feeling. “Please.”

With your words, he pressed his front harder against your ass. God, you could feel the shape of him.

Letting the moment take over, you decided to let your body lean into his, rested against him and pushed your ass purposefully into his hardening dick. The breath he sucked in was not lost on you, and you craved hearing it again, so you repeated the action against him. 

His hand tightened around your breast, and he began massaging it as he used his grip to pull you even closer to him. His thumb moved to rub tight circles around your taut nipple. It felt so good. . . your head fell back against his shoulder, sucking in your own breath between your teeth. The way he gently kneaded the flesh in his strong grip had electricity shooting through your chest, all the way down to your toes. 

Your heart was going crazy, beating frantically, barely letting up with its assault against your chest. The feeling of him against you was enough to make you lose your breath with the way your heart was clenching in your chest, all the way up to your throat.

And then you heard a familiar, faint beeping from your bedroom.

The blessed heart monitor phone. Tracking when your heart rate would increase. The stupid phone didn’t need to tell you that it was beating hard right now. And so what if you fainted? You would do it in Jake’s arms. No better place to be. 

All you knew was that you were elated that it was still in your room – and quiet enough to the average ear that it hopefully didn’t break the air of want between you and this man you wanted so. badly. 

Jake hadn’t heard it - or didn't care to stop if he had, that much seemed to be clear.

He angled his hips, pressing so cozily into your backside. You could feel all of him – moving in slow circles, while still pressed tightly to your ass. That continued on for a while until he nudged himself, right in the middle of your ass. You felt him pulsing. Tucked into you, making your core throb even more for him.

Your nerves were on fire, and when he began rolling his hips, thrusting into your ass. . . you released the tiniest moan. It was such a small sound that you briefly thought you’d imagined it. But then the hand that had been holding your hip came to wrap around your throat briefly, and then up to your mouth. 

His breath came in hot waves against your ear, his voice gravelly with need. “It’s late. We shouldn’t make noise like that. It’s too late.”

After making his point known, his hand moved to sweep some hair over one shoulder, leaving your neck exposed for him to breathe hotly against. . . and then lick. Your breath hitched at the sensation of his wet tongue, making loose circles against your hot, sweating flesh.

“You still taste so good,” he moaned with the words, ever so quietly. “You always will–but it’s like you taste sweeter than before. I can’t even–.

But he never finished what he was saying, choosing instead to press sloppy kisses against your skin. His lips and his tongue, moving together to suck gently. 

Fuck! What had gotten into–?

Your body relaxed into him all on its own, moving near enough to him that you felt like one. 

Your ass ground against him, pressing so close. He kept with his motions as he angled his lips to hover above your bare shoulder, breath hot on your skin.

Though, his kisses stopped. But, he still released puffs of overexerted breaths, over your skin, wet from his mouth. It made your toes curl and your eyes fall closed. He didn’t give your neck any more attention as he used his position to lean up and look over the front of your body, effectively pulling you even closer to him. 

“God,” he breathed, his breath hitting from exposed shoulder, onto your collar bones. Your motions continued, but just a little slower to keep him where he was, not wanting to somehow push him away. You felt him, throbbing steadily against your ass. “You’re soaked.”

You have no idea, you silently, hotly responded, moving to rub your thighs together.

But you remembered your predicament. What he was talking about. Your clothes were completely soaked through. There had been so much water. He was talking about your clothes.

“I spilled my water,” you breathed back, so quiet. 

“I can see that. Y/n– fuck,” he rutted against your ass, his hand moving to the bottom of your full breast to hold it in a steady grip. You realized he was moving his hand to see the entire breast, your straining nipples through the soaked white fabric. “Your tits. . . they’re so fucking– Goddammit.”

“Sore,” you moaned back, your body arching in need against the hardness in his loose pajama pants. “Heavy.”

“God, I’m sor–,” he went to move his hand again. And you once again brought your hand up to stop him. 

“No, Jake,” you held his hand in a tight grip, rubbing your thumb over the back of it. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?” He questioned, raspy and needy. 

Then, he was suddenly letting go of your chest to move your strap to do what you so desperately wanted.

Once it was draped over your shoulder, he moved a hand slowly over your sternum, into the front of your shirt. When he grazed his fingers over your oversensitive nipple, you whined, knees buckling. And, finally, he pulled your breast out to touch the air. 

And just before he could hold it with the hand that was readily going to grasp it. . . his bedroom door was creaking open. 

“Jakey?” Maya’s voice rang through the apartment. “You okay?”

Of course she was here. Why wouldn’t she be? 

You hadn’t heard the tell-tale sign of anyone taking steps towards the kitchen from the slightly creaky hallway, but you still decided you needed to get the fuck away from Jake. He was not yours.

You pulled away harshly and quickly, turning around all as you went to pull up your tank.

When you fully turned around, he was standing stock-still, watching your every move with your top, not letting his eyes fall away from your breasts. Your hard nipples. You felt the blush spread across your entire chest.

Then he bit his lip, your entire body heating at the motion, before he was responding.

You moved forward to hold his cheek, trying to wake him from the daze he was in. Your words barely hit the air, you were so quiet. “Jake, go back to your room. I’ll clean this up so she doesn’t–.”

“I’m good, babe,” he called back to her in a low tone, still honing in on your eyes. Your brows dipped, confused. He looked to the fridge, his hand coming to hold your bicep, keeping you there. Why was he not getting his ass back to his room? “Y/n’s asleep and I really don’t want to wake her,” he lied, eyes still glued to something to your left.

She could walk in and see he was lying! Why was he being so fucking careless? 

“Just go back to bed,” he continued, leaving no room for argument or worry. “I dropped something when I was getting up to get some water.”

“Okay,” she responded, not using the same near-whispering tone as him. “Just don’t be long, baby.”

“I won’t,” he simply said, amber-brown irises, tracing back to yours in the dim lighting of the kitchen, highlighted by the moon, shining in through the kitchen window. Full moon. Anything can happen. 

And what was happening was wrong. 

When you heard his bedroom door click closed and a little squeak from the bed to indicate someone had placed weight on it, you pulled away from him, his arm slowly dropping back to his side. The eyes that stared back at yours had a question behind them, but you didn’t give him time to ask it.

“Jake,” your tone clipped and quiet. You didn’t want to break the ridiculous cover he’d mindlessly created. “Why the fuck did you lie like that?”

“I didn’t want her to come in here,” he cut back, his inflection reflecting the same hot energy as yours. “If she would’ve known we were both in here, she would have come looking. I don’t need that,” he insisted. “And neither do you. Especially with your tits on full fucking display like that.”

You glanced down, after he’d motioned momentarily at your chest. And, his words rang true when you realized your entire fucking nipple and areola was visible through the material. Even in the darkness of night, you could tell as much. Your arms flew up to snugly cover them, flinching at the way it felt like sharp needles were pressing into your chest momentarily.  

When you peered down to where you saw his hand moving, you realized he was palming himself through his pants. You felt yourself release, the slightest bit in your panties.

Your hands tightened closer to your chest, doing the opposite of what you wanted in that moment–you wanted to bring your shirt down over yourself and let him finish on your waiting ches–.

Suddenly the pressure against you was too much and your arms were falling from their place across your breasts. Thus, standing there, on full display. Right fucking there for stupid ass Maya to walk in at any moment. 

Honestly, you were the stupid ass. And it seemed like Jake was, too. 

Maya was the innocent one in all of this.

“Go wait in your room for me,” he whispered heatedly, his words piercing your heart at the anxious energy floating through your veins. “I’ll clean this up. And then I’ll be—.”

“But–,” you brought your arms up to your chest again, covering yourself. It was a brainless move to flash your chest like that. You didn’t want to tempt him in any way. “This is my mess just–.”

“Y/n,” he all but spit in your direction with the harshness in his whisper. “I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself on the water or glass. Please.”

Good point. 

So, you decided you’d do as you were told, though not without the last word.

“Fine,” you practically growled, stepping over water, his hand reaching out to you, trying to balance over a puddle pooled at your feet. You grabbed his hand, one arm covered your heaving chest, as you made your way over the mess, and finished your thought. “But don’t come to my room. Go back to bed. I don’t want Maya to–.”

“I don’t care right now–,” he cut you off, but you didn’t let him continue before interjecting. 

“You will in the morning, Jacob,” you bit back, making fiery eye contact, crossing your arms. The hiss you released at the feeling of both arms covering yourself again was embarrassing. So, you tried to play it off. “You will. Just don’t make the mistake of coming to see me ton–.”

“It wouldn’t be a mist–.”

“Jake. Yes it would,” you insisted with a tense whisper, taking one step towards him, not taking your eyes from his once. “I’m not going to have you ruin what you have with her just to make a fucking mistake with me.”

Throughout the span of that small conversation, you saw his eyes go through every possible wave of emotion. His beautiful, deep set eyes had started wide with excitement, to now being filled with white hot frustration. He was mad. 

The last emotion made its way straight to the pit of your tummy and to your panties as you felt them draw even wetter. Damn. You’d take any sex with Jake right now, but angry sex? Dammit if that didn’t get you–. 

No, y/n. Stop it.

“Do you not want this? Why were you—just minutes ago if you don’t–?”

“I never said I didn’t want it.” You flat-out said, without a second thought. Why even lie when you’d just exposed yourself with whatever you’d just done with him? To him?

The two of you stood there, watching each other with flushed cheeks, hot breaths, and equally heaving chests. 

God, you would not be able to hold onto your momentary flash of integrity if you didn’t finish your thought and leave him. 

“We just can’t do it. It wouldn’t be right,” you sniffed. Shit. Your throat was tightening, eyes collecting tears. “I don’t want to be the reason you leave a woman–the woman you love,” you choked, foolishly, on the emotion that quickly made its way from your throat to your eyes. “I just want you to be happy.”

His own expression matched yours, his eyes pooled with tears of dejection. There were once more a couple moments, filled with silence.

Silence, aside from your deep breathing, and wrought with an energy you couldn’t place. You had to get away from him.

“Just go to bed. I won’t fucking bother you,” he said, swallowing thickly. He then spoke your words from earlier. “And let me clean this up.”

Again, you sniffled, but nodded, looking down, to cover it with a barely there 'goodnight'.

He didn’t say anything else, just went about his business in the kitchen to put things back together, turning his back on you altogether.

Suffice to say, you cried for a good chunk of time as you laid in bed, after changing into a big t-shirt.

Cried big, fat, somber tears.

The crying had even lasted long enough, keeping you up to hear the bed creak much more than necessary when Jake got back to his bedroom. . . The sound of soft, pleasured moans from both of them, accompanying the groans of the bed as they moved on top of it.

Lucky fucking you. 

The bed that used to be yours when that room was yours. . . The acts being made against it that made you want to punch something - someone. Someone with long, black hair and a too-sweet expression.

Like a child, you growled and used a spare pillow to cover your ears until you couldn’t hear anything through the plush filling of the pillow.

You also tried to distract yourself with TikToks, but you couldn’t focus on your feed filled with BabyTok. It just made you sad and wistful as you thought of your day of book shopping with Jake. . .

About 30 minutes later, you figured the coast was clear. It had occurred to you after lying there, doing aimless shit, that you were still very thirsty. . . your tongue felt like cardboard in your mouth. 

When you opened the door to go to the kitchen, though, you found a tumbler that didn’t belong to you, waiting for you. And when you picked it up, you realized exactly who it belonged to. . . the words told you as much. 

Merry Christmas, Jacob Thomas! 

Love you, 

Mom 

The Cricut-vinyl lettering was placed carefully across the front of the black off-brand Yeti. What you found when you looked through the clear lid was a cup full of water. Iced water.

The crying that ensued as you closed the door and placed the cup on your nightstand was no surprise to you. The sweet action made your heart thrum with unbridled admiration for him. 

You hated how things were now. . . how simply interacting with him the way you had was a mistake. When you compared it to the way things had been before the fateful day in the kitchen, it made your stomach sink and your eyes well with more tears. 

Then there had been what you’d heard through the walls. . . it made you want to fucking vomit. But. . .you’d brought it on yourself. No question about it. 

Aaand, more of the damn tears. . .

After taking a few healthy swigs from the cup, you felt sleep find you without warning. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own.

And, as you faded into a well-earned sleep, the only solace you found that night was the smooth bump of your tummy, which your hands held protectively–longingly–as you wandered to sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hmmmmm what do you think will follow that night in the kitchen?????

Change the World from Friendsgiving :)

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

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

Taglist:

@joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend

@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf

@torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me, @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles

(i think i figured out the tags limit! woooohoooo!! boo, tumblr. you're not getting me down today lmao)

[thesimpsbasement]

How do you think Azul would deal with having a s/o where he would say they would do crimes to people who would bully their s/o and s/o is like “That’s illegal, but awe 🥹”? Like if he paybacks someone, s/o is trying to be the voice of reason, but they’re smiling so it ruins it?

You're so right. omg, he'd be so extra about it, too

Azul is definitely the type to beat the shit out of your bullies no questions asked

But only after making sure you're okay of course,he has to take care of his precious angelfish before he gets his hands dirty

Even if the bullies didn't bother you that much, Azul is not having any of it.He's not going to let people disrespect you like that.He'd pamper you even I'd you protest,shower you in affection and after he's certain you're feeling better he excuses himself and leaves the room

You begin to worry when he still hasn't come back, that is until you hear a familiar voice or rather voices shriek in pain as 2 other familiar voices laugh hysterically. Rushing towards the VIP room,the scene you're met with was truly something.

Floyd and Jade holding your bullies still,said bullies bruised and bloodied.One might think the twins were responsible for this but as soon as you see the now injured bullies the dots connect. Despite not being the tallest or the most muscled man,Azul's physical strength shouldn't be underestimated. The damage on the now crying victims’ of Azul's wrath made you wince

Azul simply turns to you “hello darling,sorry for making you wait for so long,just have this mess to clean up” he says with a menacing smile. You want to feel bad for them especially when being held in a death trap like the tweels but you can't help but smile,letting out a chuckle. “Azul you can't just beat up people to a pulp like that,it's mean” you say.A part of you is telling you to be the voice of reason,to somehow convince Azul to not strangle anyone who dares to badmouth you,but at the same time another part of you is all over the moon.Seeing them in such a pathetic state made you feel giddy almost. “Nothing is too mean when it comes to protecting you” Azul simply replies “Now be a dear and wait for me in my room,I'll be back shortly” he says in a sweet voice.The bullies turn towards you with a pleading look but you simply smile,waving “Alright dear,don't bully them too much” you tease “Oh don't worry,I won't bully them, I'll just give them a piece of my mind” he says as he watches you leave.

Eventually, you hear the door opening,revealing your darling boyfriend.He sheds his outer layer of clothes,leaving him in his white button-down as he plops right beside you on his comfy bed. “Hope you didn't miss me too much” he says,pulling you towards him “you know I always miss you” you reply,pressing a kiss on his cheek,not missing the way his cheeks are dusted pink. “And I always miss you”, he replies,kissing your lips softly. When you pull away, you stare lovingly at him,admiring his beauty. You both stay in comfortable silence before you speak once more “you know you didn't have to do all that. it could've gotten in trouble”.Azul chuckles,hand cupping your cheek “Don't worry about that,angelfish ,besides even if they were to report me to the head mage I have my own ways of getting myself out of trouble” he says,almost menacingly. You sigh,shaking your head at his antics “Do you really have everyone wrapped around your fingers?” You ask “hmm not everyone” He says ,eyes locked on yours “You're the one who has me wrapped around their finger” he says before leaning in to steal a kiss.You sigh again,giggling as you cup his cheeks “mhmm just don't kill anyone next time alright?”.Azul smiles “I'll think about it” he says,causing you to roll your eyes ,hands moving towards his waist to pinch his sides,making the octopus yelp. “I protect you, and this is the thanks I get? Siiggghhh” he says in a fake sad voice. “Thank you, Azul, for your service” you say in a sarcastic voice before pressing your lips against his once more, “It's my pleasure”

[george-weasleys-girl]

Second Chance Soulmate Pt.2

Season of Love Event

Start here:

Summary: George debates the wisdom of getting into another relationship

Warnings: a few curse words

~•~

"When are you planning to ask her out?" Fred asked, rummaging through a mountain of paperwork.

"What??" George snapped up from his own pile. "Who??"

"Y/N," his twin rolled his eyes. "The bookshop girl."

"What makes you think I want to ask her out?"

"Oh, I dunno," Fred answered with an absent-minded air. "Could be because you're over there every chance you get... "

"Mira loves the place," George interrupted. "She'd probably live there if I let her."

"Perfect! Mira already likes her. So, that's one hurdle you don't have to worry about."

"I. Said." George reiterated, enunciating each syllable. "THE. PLACE. Not the owner."

"Don't give me that crap," Fred huffed. You know as well as I do, Mira talks about her all the time. I'm surprised she hasn't talked your remaining ear off." Fred argued.

George leveled his eyes at his twin. "Just get to the point."

"Oh, I am, Georgie boy," Fred grinned. "You're avoiding reality. That's the point."

"Oh?" His brother leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "And what reality would that be?"

"That Mira likes Y/N. A lot. And so do you."

George's shoulder sagged, and he heaved a heavy sigh. "So what if I do? I've already fucked up one relationship. I'm not about to give a repeat performance."

Fred scoffed. "As I recall, you weren't the only one in that marriage. It takes two to tango, you know."

"Doesn't mean I wasn't a bad dancer," George mumbled and bowed his head back over his paperwork, completely ignoring his twins exaggerated sighs and eyerolls.

~•~

One month after the divorce

"I don't know what to do," Carlee sighed. "I've tried everything, but nothing works."

George looked down at his daughter, who lay curled up on his lap. "She eats fine when she's here," he glanced up at his ex-wife, then back down to Mira. "Why won't you eat for mummy?"

Mira shook her head and buried her face in his chest.

"Can she stay with you?" Carlee blurted out. "Just for a while... until she's eating properly again."

George didn't hesitate. "Yeah. Of course. She can stay as long as she likes."

Mira looked up and beamed at her dad.

~•~

"As long as she likes" turned out to be two years, and counting with Mira spending every other weekend with her mom, though it was supposed to be the other way around. That's what they'd agreed upon in the divorce. George thought it'd be best. A child should be with their mother. That's what everyone says anyway.

But Mira had other ideas.

He knew it hurt Carlee that Mira chose him over her. And, honestly, he was never really sure why. Whenever he asked her about it, Mira would only say, "You're my favorite. But don't tell mummy." It was a phrase that put him on cloud nine every time he thought about it. And he wasn't going to question it, lest his daughter think too hard on the matter and change her mind.

~•~

Present day

George sighed and poured himself a hefty shot of whiskey, wishing his daughter was here right now. Of all the days for Fred to zero in on his brother's sad single status, he had to pick today. Though, knowing his twin, the timing was probably strategically planned. George had just dropped Mira off at her mother's for the weekend, a long weekend, no less. Carlee was taking her to visit family, and they wouldn't return until Tuesday.

"Damn it, Fred," he muttered. "You knew exactly what you were doing today, didn't you?"

~•~

After downing the first shot, George poured himself another and headed upstairs. Kneeling next to his bed, he pulled out the box that held a few mementos from his marriage, including a photo album. He hadn't thought about it in months. But, tonight, with his twin's words haunting his mind, the past came rushing back. He took a heavy swig of whiskey and cracked it open.

Except for a few photos with only her and Mira, Carlee had left behind all their pictures. "I have what I want," she'd told him. "I don't care what you do with the rest."

For the first few months, he couldn't bear to look at them. But as time went on, it became easier, and eventually, George began the long process of sorting through them, saving his favorites in this photo album. The rest he burned in a fiery Unbonding ritual.

George's fingers traced over their smiling faces. It was all there, his and Carlee's time together. From beginning to end.

Their very first picture as a couple, taken in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Standing in front of the joke shop on the day of the grand opening.

Sitting with Fred as he recovered in the hospital after the war.

Dancing at their wedding.

Making funny faces on their honeymoon.

Both of them smiling, misty-eyed as they held Mira for the first time.

And so many other moments in between.

George sighed and took another swig. Once upon a time, they were happy and so very much in love. Then, bit by bit, over the years, it all crumbled into dust.

He turned the final page and smiled wistfully at the last picture. It was taken on their last vacation as a family. He and Carlee stood on the beach, smiling, standing side by side, their arms around each other's waist as Carlee held a giggly and squirmy Mira. They looked like the perfect little family.

A little over a year later, his world fell apart.

~•~

"You should burn every photo that doesn't have Mira in it," Fred had argued the night before the burning ritual. "Otherwise, I'm afraid you'll never truly let Carlee go."

George, of course, ignored his twin's suggestion, reasoning that he should at least keep some for Mira. Carlee was still her mother, after all. He shook his head and chuckled at the memory, then closed the album and slipped it back in its box under the bed. Fred was annoyingly right about a lot of things. But that was not one of them.

He did let go of Carlee. And though it had been a long, painful process, George's heart no longer ached for her. He no longer dreamed of a reunion. Even now, looking at those pictures, he didn't miss his ex-wife, so much as he missed having a partner.

Y/N suddenly flooded his thoughts, and he couldn't hold back the smile that spread across his face. Everything about that woman sent him flying over the moon. The way she always lit up whenever he and Mira came into the store. The way her hand would brush his when she showed them the newest books. The way she would always make a point to stop and chat with him whenever they saw each other on the street.

And her laughter.

He knew all her laughs. From her delighted giggles when reading to Mira, to her unrestrained belly-laughs when he told her one of his stupid jokes, to the occasional snort that sent an adorable bright pink blush blossoming across her cheeks.

Dear Merlin, he could so easily fall head-over-heels in love with her.

If he wasn't already...

George's heart clenched painfully, and his knees wobbled beneath him. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. How could his stupid heart go off and fall in love without him noticing? He wasn't ready. Not yet. What if he and Y/N got together and it didn't work out? No one needed to tell him that love doesn't always last forever. He'd experienced it firsthand.

Even so, he was tired of being alone and lonely. Mira helped. Of course she did. But she could never fill the gaping hole in his heart that yearned for the love of a partner. Despite what he told himself, George so desperately to be happy and in love again. And he had no doubt that he and Y/N would be happy together.

But for how long?

That was the question.

Two years? Five years? Ten? Twenty? His parents' neighbors, once regarded as "perfect for each other," recently divorced after 21 years and three kids.

~•~

George collapsed back onto the bed, suddenly bone-weary and soul-sick. The future terrified him. Too many possibilities. Too many what-ifs. It damn near destroyed him when he and Carlee split. Another heartbreak like that might end him once and for all.

Part Three

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1Lellykins @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe

@Smallsweetvanillabean @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @el-de-phi @lizzytrees @spididerman @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @theimpossible-girl-whowaited @ceehance @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @charmedfandomgal @loca4moony @whotfskai @netflix-addict

@moonatician @lunacurlclaw @sierraluvzz @min-aaa @now-that-we-dontalk @lillisummers @lovesanimals0000

[rzyraffek]

I have a request! Can you do Eddie gulskin,brahms hellsire and Billy lenz (idk I'd you do the twins from outlast but if u do them to if not is chill) with a S/O who has an anxious attachment style?

- like there s/o asks If they hate them and kinda follows the characters around like a shadow!!:>

Ong! I love it!! This s/o is so me😭 also why i got 3 eggie gluskin requests at once i never even played outlast! But he seems like goofy fellow!

They/them, sfw, mostly meowmeow fluffy. Requests are closed for now due to huge numbers in my inbox

Slashers with s/o who has attachment issues

Billy Lenz

Oh me oh my they are sure something else

He is the one that usually walks behind his parnet like stray cat so he doenst really know how to react?? Especially if s/o asks him stuff "do you like me?" And is clearly worried about Billy abandoning them. Billy will be like ??? Bestie why would you even think like that!! S/o is great he would never!

He stares at them when they sleep, like it would help him figure out how to feel them more loved

Pls dont vent to him tho! He cant take this type of stuff sirously

Eddie gluskin

😳😳

His guy will blush so hard

When they fallow him, his ego will grow so much! Oh darling what you worried you'll get lost? Huh o- well of course i love you! Your my wife!!!

He can spend as much time with them as possible! As far as they don't mind gory backround and screaming people

Like somone acually cares about him?? Frfr?? With consent?? Gee didnt know s/o was chill like that

Once he found them crying in one of hospital beds, he though somonr attacked them but when he realised they were worried about him, Eddie promised to him self that he will never leave them

Asa emory

Bbg wym??? He spends huge amount of money on them and they still think he doesnt like them??? I mean yeah he spends a lot of time away but like😔😔no no s/o you cant go with him to his workplace nono its too gory for ur lil mind

Alrightttt if they ask him nicley he might allow them to sit in his saferoom there for few hours. But dont try to explore this place pls!! S/o gonna explode in real time irl if they leave saferoom(agressive escape room)

Also if they ever feel bad, he has few dogs so im sure s/o can vibe with doggos if they feel bad

Bro asa really doenst know how to make them understand HE LOVES YOU PLS TAKE HIS MONEY AND DOGS AND STOP BEING SO SAD OML

Brahms Heelshire

Vice versa

This guy sometimes doesnt sleep at night because hes worried that they accualy dont love him, and they are just too scared to leave

But his worries fade away as soon as they snuggle to him while sleeping

He would love s/o that fallows him around!! He has attachment issues too!

Oh please dont worry love! He totally loves them

[respectthepetty]

do you happen to have any other bls with toxic kings up your sleeve? i’m as giddy as you when it comes to ming! i’m newer to bls, so there’s a good chance i haven’t seen whatever you suggest.

Anon, I have an entire roster of toxic characters because

I LOVE TOXIC BITCHES!

Like 2 Chainz rapped on one of my favorite songs, "I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem" which is why I HATE when a story won't allow characters to be toxic. Like we all know the character IS toxic, but the story keeps telling us he isn't that bad or he is only that bad because reasons. Regardless of the reasons, the character is a bad bitch so why not just let him fucking own it, which is truly the reason Only Friends pissed me off so much.

Case and point, my favorite characters were Ray and Nick. Ray was calling Sand a whore every two seconds and throwing money at him, while Nick was recording non-consexual sex tapes, yet the narrative wanted me to think they were just sad dudes who were slightly problematic.

NAH! Nick straight up said he was trash! THEY WERE TOXIC just like everyone else in that damn show!

Which is why I liked Kang in Dangerous Romance because I don't feel like the narrative eased up on his toxicity. In fact, I feel like the story said Sailom was into it with that master/servant scene at the very end.

So in order for me to love a toxic character, they must 1) be considered toxic by the story, and 2) stay toxic, so I'm going to give you a list of ten of my favorites, but know that spoilers are coming your way too. Also know that I do not recommend anything, ever, so these are not recommendations. These are merely my favorite toxicitos.

Mis tóxicos favoritos

presented in no particular order

Todd - Not Me

This man had his lover (it's canon to me) beat into a coma. Then, he went and grabbed that man's twin brother and made him take on his lover's persona all so he could overthrow his competition and be the number one evil capitalist. And then, AND THEN, he was excited to see his lover, Black, return even though he knew that meant he was probably going to die. Honestly, his entire relationship with Black was toxic, and I desperately need more of it. Not Me 2: Blackout when? WHEN, GMMTV?!

Rio & Kido - The Novelist Series

Rio blew Kido in front of an old man in broad daylight, so they could get a book deal. That's just one of the many fucked up things these two did together, but they were even worse apart. Rio lied to a college student for months about his arm being injured and writing pornographic novels just to turn on the college student and fuck him because . . . he was bored? It's deeper than that, but it kinda ain't. Rio and Kido did toxic shit to feel alive and that's my special brand of toxic. I will never make excuses for them. I like them this way.

Yai - Big Dragon

The very beginning of this show, as in the very first scene, is Yai and Mangkorn having sex AFTER Yai drugged Mangkorn in hopes of sexually assaulting him and recording it. AND MANGKORN IS INTO IT! Yai tries to steal Mangkorn's phone and ruin his life too, but Mangkorn is so in love with Yai, that he is willing to play along with whatever Yai does including fighting Yai. This is one of my favorite BLs for a multitude of reasons, but the biggest is because instead of trying to tame Yai, Mangkorn just decided to match his toxic energy! I love that for them.

Songpol - Club Friday

Bank plays toxic very well, which is why he has two characters on this list, even though this show isn't technically a BL. Club Friday is already a hot mess express, so to be the most toxic character in a show filled with toxic characters means that Songpol was TOK-SICK! He cheated on his boyfriend with multiple men. When his boyfriend left him for a woman, he showed up outside of that woman's house calling her a whore. He then went to their wedding just so he could fuck his ex in a bathroom (on his wedding day). He continued to hook up with his ex, and sent a video to his ex's wife of them having sex, only for her to tell him to move into the house and continue having sex with her husband! AND THAT'S ONLY THE SECOND EPISODE! He was serving telenovela villain, and I want him back.

Vegas - KinnPorsche

The scene: Vegas' beloved hedgehog has just died and he has carried out a tiny funeral for him while the bodyguard he has been holding hostage AND TORTURING comforts him, but instead of sitting in that grief, Vegas tells the bodyguard that the bodyguard is probably turned on by seeing Vegas weak, then proceeds to fuck him. Skipping over the fact that Vegas drugged Porsche, killed Tawan, got Big and Ken murdered by extension, and a plethora of other horrible shit, Vegas was a HUGE red flag from the very beginning, and I wanted him to choke me so badly. *bites knuckles*

Charn - Laws of Attraction

He had his reasons, but the story and his husband didn't let that be an excuse for his toxic behavior. He tried burning down Tinn's house, with Tinn and his grandmother in it, and Tinn was very upset about it. Not enough to not sleep with Charn, but enough to get his point across that if Charn wanted to burn something down, he needed to focus on burning down the oppressive heteronormative government, so we could all have basic human rights. Toxic, but for the cause.

Chalothon - The Sign

I knew he was a problem because the way he handled his patients, but he truly proved how toxic he was when he told Phaya he would kill Tharn before letting Phaya have him. I'm mad that the show made him good in the last episode, with most of if being off-screen, but I'll always remember how he committed psychological warfare on Phaya for eleven episodes in hopes of making Phaya seem crazy, and actually made Tharn, Phaya's soulmate, question Phaya's sanity.

Mol - 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us

The only woman on this list and she isn't even queer. That's how toxic this chick was that she made it on a this list being a heterosexual, which was a major part of her toxicity. She is a top-tier gaslighter to her son. She doesn't actually consider Inn her friend. She uses feminist rhetoric to be homophobic. She manipulates every situation in her favor by using tears. I could write a list just about her being lead paint toxic, but the most fucked up part is that she got to ride off into the sunset with her son in the passenger seat being miserable, which is what she wanted. No other BL parent could reach her level. Korn and Gun from KinnPorsche exist, yet this woman would eat them alive without hesitation, then go throw a party for herself. She really is that bitch.

Yong Jie - HIStory 4: Close to You

I'm not going to bullshit around him being a whole ass problem. This motherfucker is the most controversial pick on this list, and I am well aware of why he is hated by the people, but the story told us he was the devil. The show treated everything he did like stalking, physical assault, and sexual assault as horrible, and he got knocked out for it. HIStory 4 is my favorite BL, ever, and part of it is because the story let this toxic motherfucker BE toxic. I love how much I hate him, and I love how much the story allows me to hate him.

So - House of Stars

This show was a mess, so I was not expecting this man to come out as THE toxic king to rule over every other toxic character. What made him so toxic is that I had no idea just how toxic he was until the exact moment I realized it, and that's why he is one of my favorites. He was sneaky. He was playing everyone against each other. He was letting the bodies stack up. He was Tan from Dead Friend Forever without anyone figuring out he was Tan. One person realized part of his plan, but even then, that person was not aware of how committed to the bit So was. This smile was the very last scene of the show, and it really proved that this boy ruined everyone's lives only to walk out of it completely unbothered. You know, king shit.

[gabessquishytum]

Okay we’ve had a very sad lack of pregnant Hob here lately so I must fill the gap with a silly idea!!! So imagine it takes Hob getting knocked up for Dream to realize he loves him. It’s in one of those in-between moments where Dream hasn’t been to the waking world in months, too busy rebuilding his crumbling kingdom to check in on his favorite mortal or nurture this strange sort of friendship they’ve started up after hundreds of years. But Dream thinks of him often, more often than he’s willing to admit. So often that the second he’s done cleaning up his kingdom he doesn’t waste a second before he’s materializing in front of the pub (their tavern, it’s always been theirs) and walking in

Hob seems fine at first. He’s sat down at the back of the pub in a booth up against the wall. He looks a little tired, hair a little longer, strands brushing up just at the tips of his shoulders, the rest of it up in a messy bun that’s half falling out. And Dream is immediately so taken with him as he always is, something warm and soft and secret beginning to bloom in his chest. And then Hob sees him, his smile doing a strange little wobbly crease before smoothing out into a too-tight smile, and he’s about to say something, something that looks important, but Dream is already rounding the table and he sees Hob’s obviously pregnant stomach resting in his lap, stretching out one of his silly professor sweaters—

Either trans Hob times or maybe a little fuckery from everyone’s favorite Endless, Desire. Maybe it’s a demonic curse, or a gift from a lesser god. Either way it doesn’t take long for Hob to explain himself when Dream’s soul has been shoved back into his body and he finally relents and sits down. Hob explains that yes, he’s fine; yes, he’s taking care of himself and sleeping well; yes, it’s twins, thanks for asking; no, the other parent isn’t in the picture. And Hob looks so sad when he says that last bit that it makes something stupid and protective swell up in Dream’s chest, the same sort of feeling he gets seeing empty bird nests and children’s nightmares. Dream can’t get the way Hob says I guess it’s just me out of his head for a long, long time

But most of all Dream can’t ever burn away the image of Hob standing up and pressing his hands to the soft small of his back and arching forward with a groan. And for the first time in almost a thousand years Dream imagines silk sheets and bodies in between them. Maybe his offer to help Hob out around the pub and at campus is more selfish than he lets on

Omg, Dream falling in love with Hob/realising that he's been in love with him for ages WHILE HES PREGNANT is so perfect for them <3

Once his pregnancy is out in the open, Hob begins to see quite a lot of his favourite dreamlord. He's a little hurt that Dream might be seeing him just out of pity, but in the end he's grateful to have a friend. And someone to carry his bag around campus. Dream follows him devotedly from lecture to lecture, brings him nutrious lunches, and dotes on him so much that people begin to assume that he must surely be the baby-daddy! And Hob, well... somewhere along the line he stops denying it. Its kinda nice to fantasise that Dream is the other parent of his children.

And Dream, who can naturally sense fantasies and daydreams without meaning to, has to stop his heart from trembling when he realises that Hob wants them to be a family. Not just friends, but partners and co-parents. If he keeps making the right moves, he might actually be able to have Hob?! It seems crazy that such little inconsequential things, like running him a nice soothing bath or organising the shifts at the New Inn, should be the foundation for one of Dream’s legendary cosmic love stories.

With his undeniably changed physique, Hob can't help but feel that he'd never be attractive to Dream. Not when he's so round and swollen and all kinds of weird things are going on in his body. He never dreamed that he'd go through the humiliation of peeing in front of his centennial stranger, but here he is! What he doesn't know is that Dream has never been so aesthetically attracted to anyone. When he sees Hob sleeping on his side with his t-shirt riding up over his belly, Dream nearly melts into a puddle. He just wants to hold, touch, love and worship his body.

Thank goodness they get their shit together around the time Hob hits his third trimester, so he can get those life-saving pregnancy orgasms. He still can't quite believe that his massive belly, messy hair and eye bags were what attracted Dream to him....... but he's never going to complain. His twins are going to be luckiest babies in the whole damn multiverse.

[mossyivy]

Leon’s wife is the type of wife to pick at her husbands face and back all day. He’d be watching TV in the living room and suddenly she’s sitting on his lap plucking his eyebrows because she’s bored. All while he complains that it hurts. (That man was been beat to death yet can’t even sit still while getting his eyebrows plucked. 🙄)

Or she’d make him do some stupid silly skincare. He’d get a silly headband to push his hair back of course, he’d just be half asleep as she gently spread the clay mask across his face.

Violet and Lia would probably mess around with his face too. They’d drag him over to Violet’s room and make him go to their “Salon.” A place where they literally torture him with girly things.

They’d put his hair up in little pigtails, probably beat his face to the gods too. He’d come out of Violets room looking like a pretty princess. His left eye filled with dark colored eyeshadow from Violet and his right with pretty colors and pastels.

- Anon! 🎀

Suggestive Moment Below Cut

No literally she'd be an absolute menace with grooming him. He has no idea why she loves it so much.

"Ow!" He flinches as you rip another long hair from his brow.

"Oh it doesn't hurt that bad you big baby." His grip on your waist tightening as you lean back to assess your work so far, not wanting you to fall back and crack your head on the coffee table like last time.

"You're not the one having hair ripped o- ow! I thought I married a scientist not a beautician..." He huffs as you giggle at his pain, putting the tweezers back into the small brow kit on your lap.

"I'm a woman of many talents." You reach in pulling out the brow scissors, grabbing your wrist he stares at them.

"What are these for?"

"To shape, relax I'm not gonna cut your eyebrow off." He stares, raising his freshly plucked brow, you sigh. Leaning into his ear to whisper.

"If you let me use the scissors I'll let you do that thing you like." Your tone is teasing, his head turns to you.

"As long as I want?"

"Mmhm, and I won't even complain." He lets go of your wrist immediately, leaning back like he's in a professional chair ready for someone to do their worst to him. You smirk, going to shape his brows. His arms pull you closer as he watches you work through slightly cracked eyes.

"For the record, I like when you complain. Makes me know I'm doing it right." You flick him in the chin making him chuckle as you continue to work carefully.

You sit back, nodding to yourself.

"Oooh, we have twins!" You gasp staring at him.

"What! What!?" Your voice is barely above a whisper as you lean back in.

"You have grays in your beard..." You immediately reach for the tweezers, he pushes them onto the couch.

"No! It's bedtime!" Standing up, he lifts you into his arms, making his way towards the stairs.

As for the mask thing I personally think Leon has sensory issues when it comes to stuff on his face, when clay is chunky it makes him think of... the past.

But I could see him being okay with those sheet or charcoal masks that peel. But you'd always fight him on doing the peeling because let's be real it's gross but super satisfying. An it's always funny watching him cringe at how nasty his pores were.

Putting the little creams on him after is his favorite part! Because that means you use a jade roller over his face. He loves that thing. Wishes they came in the size of a paint roller for his back. Every time that little roller touches his face he melts. He'd almost be purring it feels so good to him.

Not only is he getting to do a routine with his adorable wife but that damn roller nearly makes him fall asleep standing up at their his and hers sinks. You'd kiss his chin once he's nice and clean, pull off the cute little tabby cat headband off his head.

"We're done?" He looks so sad. But you always end up having him cuddled up to your side by the end of the night, using a wooden rolling hand massager on his back. He'd be out like a light, snoring away in 20 minutes tops.

But the skincare routine definitely started after his girls loved playing salon with him (not mommy because daddy always listens to the kid gossip and gives the best feedback)

Violet's talking about her 2 friends arguing over who gets to play with her at recess or sit with her at lunch while putting his hair up in tons of tiny pigtails with different colored hair ties. All while Lia would be just clipping on any little beret or cute clip she could find from her collection to his bangs.

Leon would walk out of there and into the kitchen while you're doing the dishes. You look at him and grin.

"Rough day Leona?" You joke, making him groan as you laugh. "You look like that doll from the Rugrats if she got into a fist fight."

"The girls thought I looked beautiful!"

[idv-sunsxin3]

can i request a scenario with pavia, horropedia, and diggers saying i love you to them for the first time 👀👉👈

Horropedia, Pavia, Diggers // "I Love You."

Note// Yes, I finished writing this on April Fool's. And no, I don't feel like getting pranked, but I don't mind being booped by moots/ih😇✨️

___

"Y/N, come check this out!"

He was just about to talk to you more about the twin dolls he had on his gun at the moment he saw you enter the room. Noting the little details of their design, and even how he managed to make these mechanisms behave in such a complex manner of mischief to make them seem as unpredictable and intimidating to enemies.

He didn't expect you to suddenly say something much more intimate during one of these casual conversations you both usually share.

You were silently admiring the sight of his focused, intelligent eyes, the way his head tilts once in a while to inspect his work, and his incoherent mumbling to himself as if having some occasional internal debates. Until you blurted these words out.

"I love you."

His fingers halted for a bit once he heard you. His eyes stopped being fixed on his firearm to look at you. His features were notably shocked for a moment, yet it wasn't for long that they returned back to grinning once again. It isn't unsure whether it is because he's playing his cards again or not.

Nonetheless, his cheeks are lightly flustered with a soft hue. It could have been more noticeable if the lamp on his desk wasn't the only source of light in the dark room.

"I know." he replies calmly while throwing a sneaky look, "That’s very dangerous of you to say, though."

His observant eyes stare through yours as his face creeps closer to yours to the point your noses nearly touch. The statement indirectly reminds you of the several times he told you about how love stories tend to get disturbed by certain means of phenomenons, tragedies, and terrors caused by ruthless antagonists.

It is not often that lovers would end up happy together at the end of a horror movie. Sometimes, Horropedia would adapt these kinds of survival principles to real-life situations.

Yet even so, his hands find itself resting on yours. A strange sense of comfort sneaks through your skin by contact.

"It's bad for me... but I don't mind testing the waters with how long we can keep this up."

He interwines your fingers with his, as if they're meant to be that way... Just as the way your lips collide with his, the second he moved the last inch towards you.

______

"I love you."

You softly said it as you played with your lover's hands. You were talking about a sad day that happened to you with him. In the end, Diggers managed to cheer you up a bit with his words of affirmation.

"I fancy you more, darling."

He wasn't hesitant on replying sweetly, his eyes half-lidded and droopy, but his smile warmth as the sunrise. He rubs your cheekbone gently with his thumbs while gazing at you lovingly, as if his hands were holding the world itself.

Once noticing you finish drinking from your cup, he unspeakably pulls away from your hold to fetch the jug of juice for a refill. Knowing you well, a single cup of juice won't quench your thirst in a sunny day at a van.

...

"... it's quite new to hear that from you."

Diggers realizes that you finally say the magic words for the very first time. The thought of hearing these words from you crosses his mind, noting how he hasn't heard them from somewhere at all until now.

He had this dumbfounded look for a moment until he made a tiny "o" shape on his mouth. Before not wasting a second to turn around and face back at you.

He was wearing that same glance as if he fell in love with you all over again. Seemingly, they rather looked happier than shock.

"Oh, my muse... my love, my sunshine, my moon, and all my stars."

He gushes delightfully in a low whisper, clearly impacted in the most wonderful way he has never thought of himself. He has this urge to embrace you and flutter you with smooches until he can't feel his lips -

Yet having this tiny fear of scaring you away with any sudden advances, he only surrounded you slowly in his arms before he planted a lingering kiss on your forehead. Connecting your foreheads once he closes his eyes and hums with a soft smile.

"You're the loveliest gift god has sent to me..." He whispers as he cradles your head with his hand in an adoring manner.

______

You said it without thinking twice. Seeing him eat gelato with a spoon while still holding your hand with his unoccupied one was something special.

You slowly learn that he never had the plans to pull away at all. Not even whenever you take the initiative to hold hands, embrace one another, and start sneaking these whispers of affection in dark alleyways.

So after finishing the cold dessert, he walks you through the dark streets wanderlessly before turning to a corner. You pull him by the arm close to you so you can lean on him, but this gesture made Pavia pull you back and swing you towards the wall- pinning you against it.

"Now what, bella? Do you really want to stick around here?"

He sounds a bit annoyed by the tone on his question, yet the way he gently brushes his jewelry from his knuckles on your cheek says otherwise.

"Aren't you quite a crazy one?"

"Mm.." You hum as you lean on his touch, "I get that a lot."

"What are you trying to say to me now then, mm..?"

"...I love you."

You now sounded quiet but clear enough to the other. Your lips were close enough to his ear that he could feel you breathing softly against him.

"...?"

The mercenary finds himself dropping his hands from the sides of your head to wrap his deadly arms around you. They rest firmly on your hip and lower back while his back is now leaning on the brick wall once he swing your back around.

"..."

Pavia acts like it was nothing serious at first when he heard you, his eyes unreadable through his shades as he scrutinizes your face like a predator does to a prey for a few silent seconds. However, the tone of his voice remains inexpicable and probably a malicious mischief.

"Oh, you're dancing with fire, little daredevil..."

That's when he grabs you by the collar before smashing your lips with his, swiftly bringing you deeper into the alleyway...

"Two can play this game~"

.

.

.

Several days later, you find yourself being led by him to your house that is now piled up with a lot of boxes that are filled with gifts. Most of them bring a variety of different jewelries.

"I got them as souvenirs, but it turns out none of them are my style... Keep them. whether you like it or not, I'm looking forward to seeing you trying one of them~"

Obviously hinting that these gifts were bought for you;;