#and i do not feel like looking them up right now lol
Text
p power
rafe cameron
“take it from him and i leave him with nothing”
summary- john b cheats on you with sarah cameron you get revenge by getting with her brother
warning- DUBCON, sex under the influence, raw sex (wrap it folks), drinking, smoking, partying, fighting, sex tape (reader knows hes recording but doesnt know he sent it to her ex), semi public beach house sex, meanish pussy drunk rafe lol
you took a hit of your pen, gently coughing from the amount you just inhaled. you were currently in your boyfriends room, confronting him. you had caught john b cheating on you with sarah cameron, kook princess and someone you thought was your friend.
“can you not do that in my room? take this seriously.” john b said swiping his hands in the air to get rid of the cloud puffs floating. you scoffed, the audacity.
“i dont give a fuck about what youre asking for me to do right now john b, you cannot be for real about me taking this seriously.”
“i dont know what to tell you, she was going through something. she needed me.” john b gave his bullshit excuse which made you even more angry.
“what about me, did you even think about me for one bit before you decided to fuck her ?” you screamed at him, getting up from the couch ready to leave the room. as you have your hand on handle, john b grabs it. his large hand covers yours.
“i love you.. please” he pleads, eyes getting wetter.
“dont touch me with that dirty ass hand john b, i shouldve known. no matter how much i showed my love for you, no matter how much i cared. you will always choose her.” you gritted through your teeth.
“i-”
“no, its okay. im done with this shit.” your voice cracks and you slam the door in front of john b's face, driving away with tears blurring your vision.
AT THE PARTY
you strut your way into the party, the annual bonfire that happens the same week every year. you grab a pink solo cup and fill it to the brim with jungle juice. you had already pregamed before and begged your friend to drive you here, laughing at yourself when you caught yourself tripping over the pile of beer cans on the floor. obvious that you were feeling the effects of the weed and alcohol combining.
you were tired, physically and mentally, you couldnt deal with anyones bullshit anymore. especially after what happened earlier in the day, you just needed a break.
“what are you doing here ?” you heard a voice question from behind, you turned and saw rafe cameron looking at you up and down.
“oh hey rafey, nothing honestly just trying to forget shit you know ?” you down the rest of your drink and turn again to retrieve another cup. before you can take a sip out of it, it gets knocked down by rafe. who angrily walks over to john b and sarah cameron who were conversing with each other in the corner.
oh shit
“the fuck are you doing bro? chill.” john b says and backs up. sarah tries to intervene by calling his name and you just stand there interested in what was about to happen.
“you feel good about yourself ??” rafe pushes john b, getting ready to instigate a fight. you fight the urge to run up and defend your man. but you stayed still.
this is what he deserves
sarah cameron stops her brother in his tracks and tries to stop him, he ignores her.
oh yeah try to get him to stop, cheater.
“looks like you got my sloppy seconds... good luck with that. shes a real handful” john b insensitively says, rafe continues his way toward him. and within a second throws a hard punch to his face. john b falls to the ground and rafe looks over him.
“you like that shit johnny ? huh ?” he moves and hovers over john b's body, and continues to beat him unconscious. kiaras dad finally pulls them apart, and you walk over to rafe checking to see if he was okay. sarah starts to angrily push rafe, but he doesnt budge.
“sarah you better stop that shit before you end up on the ground just like john b.” you glared at her angrily and pushed her away before gently grabbing rafes arm and walking away with him.
……..
“jeez rafe you really fucked him up…” you said while wiping the blood off his knuckles with disinfectant. he winces when you finishes it off with ointment.
“yeah i dont know what i was thinking, i just.. its just that he pisses me off so much an-” rafe drunkingly rambled, you hesitated. but then losing to your own thoughts you grab his face and kiss him. you quickly pull away fluttering your lashes, mouth slightly open. taking short deep breaths in and out, nothing but the sound of waves crashing could be heard.
“fuck im sorry.” your voice cracked, tears forming in your eyes. you even shocked yourself with that action, moving your hand from your face you fidget with your bikini top. rafe then gently grabs your face and makes eye contact, kissing back but with more passion. everything in the room starts to blur and your focus is only on him. he pulls away and begins to hover over you. cornering you further into the plush couch.
“nah don’t apologize.. just kiss me back” rafe whispers into your ear making his way down to your neck, giving it light kisses and sucks. his hands wander around your body, you begin to grow desperate and grind yourself onto his thigh, hands rubbing his back. you grabbed his hair to pull him closer to you, he groans in response.
"you dont understand how badly i want you.." he kisses you deeper.
"..how badly i wanted to do this." he backs up and takes off his shirt, his abs and buff body glistening from the ocean water combined with the low light of the moon. he lowers himself and his hands reach for your bottoms, untying them then tossing them onto the floor.
your breathing hitches when you feel his cool breath on your pussy, rafes arms grab at your thighs and spread your legs open.
"oh fuckkk" you lightly moaned when you felt his tongue on your clit making slow but rough licks. rafe laughs and moans into you, sending vibrations throughout your whole body. he looks up at your and makes eye contact with your glossy glazed over eyes.
"you taste so fucking good." he continues to lap at your juices, you looked at the blonde. dazed and memorized by how pretty he was. forgetting all your worries and troubles because of how good he worked his mouth. it was over for you when you felt his fingers prod at your entrance.
the combination of his long thick fingers sliding in and out of your wet pussy and his mouth on your clit drove you over the edge.
"fuck, you gonna cum f'me? please cum baby." he slurps and fingers you faster, your chest heaves up and down before you cum all over his face and make a mess. but rafe doesnt stop there, he removes his fingers and uses both his arms to hold your legs open. continuing to eat you out.
"oh my go- fu- please.. too much! rafe please sto-" you mewl trying to close your legs to no avail.
"uh uh stay still f'me" rafe tuts, eventually he stops and gets up, his mouth and chin dripping with your juices. he grabs your jaw and kisses you before taking off his shorts, the classic calvin klein banding accentuates his v line and you could see his bulge.
you sit up and your fingers hook at the band and pull his boxers down, immediately his cock springs up and hits his stomach. your eyes widened.
"its not gonna fit." you say, his tip is leaking with precum and you fight the urge to swallow him whole right then and there.
"dont worry it will." his hand pushes you back down and he uses his knees to spread your legs. rafe starts to rub himself up and down your pussy, circuling his tip around your clit. and you let out a satisfied hum. he was fighting the urge to just shove himself completely inside you and fuck you deep into the couch. rafe eyes your phone, and leans over to grab it.
he hovers the phone over your face and unlocks it, opening your messages app. he clicks on john bs contact and sees that he left 30+ texts, laughing at the idiot rafe then clicks on the camera feature.
“rafe w-what are you doing?" you asked, closing your legs shyly. your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"dont worry, just trust me." rafe responds, leaning down to kiss you sloppily before he pressed record on the camera. using his free hand to push your thighs apart he moves the camera closer to your bodies, your lower body and his are in view. rafe then uses his fingers to spread your lips, showing the camera your slick. he slides two fingers inside you and gives it a few pumps before he removed them.
"open up f'me." he gently taps your cheek and slides the two fingers into your now open mouth. his long fingers caressing your tongue, automatically you start to suck his fingers. cleaning them.
"thats it... good job baby." he admires the way your plump swollen lips wrapped around his fingers, at this point his cock was aching in need to pump you full of his cum. he must have you.
"please rafe.. need you." you whined and looked up at him, watery eyed and pupils blown. you desperately moved your hips, and thank god he started to rub your aching pussy with his cock again. the both of you were hungry and needy. gentle whines filled the room, and rafe eventually slid himself in.
"oh fuck." rafe dragged out, slowly pushing deeper and deeper inside you.
"youre so tight, holy shit. mmmmm." bottoming out he stayed there for a moment to let you adjust. he was so long and thick, you felt every vein on it in your walls. you seriously had nothing to say, no words could have been let out to describe what you were feeling right now. pure ecstasy.
the both of you continued to say nothing as rafe sped up, drilling harder and faster into your wet pussy. his balls slapping against you ass, nothing could be heard besides moaning and the sound of his rough thrusts. you could barely see anything aside from rafes figure but you were sure that his back and biceps were now covered in scratch marks from you. the bright flash of the camera blinding you, you've never been filmed like this before. and the thought of you being slut out on camera made you even more wet.
"such a good fucking slut for me, youre takin' me so well." his free hand gripping tight on the fat of your hips to guide himself against your sweet spot.
"oh FUCK!" you let out a combination of a moan and scream when he continued to hit that spot, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.
"does your ex fuck you like this?" he slows down his pace, but you were too fucked up to respond.
"huh?" he asked and slid out just to snap hips back into you bringing you back to reality.
"no! oh fu- youre so much bigger.." you moaned, your pussy leaving a white ring at the base of rafes cock.
"yes yes yes. ah!" you whined when he sped up, which you didnt think was possible. rafe was pounding you so hard you were seeing stars. your hand went to cover your mouth but rafe slapped it away, and put it on your lower stomach.
"dont do that i wanna hear you moan f'me."
"you feel that?" rafe asked, you could see his cock bulging from your stomach.
"god- squeezing me so fucking tight..." rafe grunted, and lowered his hand to rub circles on your clit. your mouth slack and open, boobs bouncing up and down from rafes thrusts.
rafe wasnt even sure if he was getting all of this on frame, he was jackhammering into you like he hated you. he relished in the way your cunt clenched around him like you were made for him. and he was sure you were. all perfect, pretty and stupid for him.
"rafe i feel like im gonna pee, stop!" you screamed out and gripped his bicep. your stomach burned in pleasure and you felt like it was going to explode.
"pl-please oh my god, oh... my"
"thats it baby, squirt all over my fucking cock. youre so pretty like this." your eyes started water even more, he was fucking you so good you stared crying. overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions and feelings.
"so cute when you cry for me, if you keep doing that im gonna cum inside you." embarrassed you turn your head away and shake your head, the squelching and sight of your cunt was so sloppy and messy. rafe gripped your jaw and forced you to look at the camera.
"open your eyes sweetheart, keep looking at me." his fingers made their way down to your throat and squeezed.
"fuck." he whimpered, rafe has never done that before. the both of you were shocked but youve never been turned on this much.
"mmm keep doing that, you sound so fucking hot rafe." you urged him.
"im gonna cum, can i cum inside you? please baby" he begged, his thrusts becoming less controlled.
"yes, fuck. i need you to fill me right now. i wanna see your cum dripping out of me, breed me." the both of you were whiney, your cheeks were wet and your legs were shaking and sore.
"shit, you are so perfect.. this pussys so p-perfect." rafes body was tired, rutting into you like you were nothing but a fleshlight. his tip twitching inside you before he came deep into your cervix, making sure to push every ounce of his seed inside you before pulling out. and filming your dripping cunt before he ended the video.
rafe didnt have evil intentions but he wanted to let john b know what he lost, who would want to miss out on a girl like you?
*attached video*
"shes busy rn bro"
5 hours later you were laying next to a knocked out rafe, finally sobering up you went to check your phone. the most recent message being from none other than your ex.
why is he spam texting me?
"what the fuck? youre such a bitch" the text read, confused and curious you decided to scroll up. only to get surprised by a video of you and rafe from earlier. you dropped the phone in shock and turned to see rafe who woke up from the sudden sound. you picked your phone back up and shoved the phone into rafes face.
“what the fuck is this rafe?!"
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe x y/n#obx#obx fanfiction#outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks rafe#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe x reader#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey#dark rafe cameron#obx fic#outerbanks rafe#rafe x you#smut fic#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#dom rafe cameron#obx smut#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
GIVE IN TO ME – 최산
synopsis . in which san gives you some special princess treatment.
pairing . choi san & fem! reader
genre . smut (mdni!), fluff & comfort, established relationship, non idol!au
taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle | comment your username if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! ♡
word count . 0,4k
DISCLAIMER! dom! san (even though in here he’s devoted to reader’s 🐱), sub! reader, fingering, praise, dirty talk, lots of touching and whimpering, cutie & lovely petnames lol (sweetheart, princess, doll, good girl), in conclusion; just san being a sweet gentleman w reader <3
NIC’S NOTES I KNOOOW i should be working on a ton of asks and i am !! it’s just that they’re not ready yet, still gotta reread and edit them :// buuut, i saw a couple of pics of san’s hands a few days ago and i just couldn’t help myself -.- ALSOO SAN IN WORK MV?? i felt things i wasn’t okay with ;o so expect a cowboy san drabble soon ~ ♡
imagine san, caressing your skin like the princess you are for him, his left hand holding your hip tightly while his right intensely pounds your entrance, soaked from so much foreplay. the atmosphere was perfect and the air smelled strongly of sex, making it increasingly difficult to breathe. your cries did nothing but incite him to continue teasing you, your thighs quivering in response.
“sannie p-please...” you stammered pathetically, not knowing what you were pleading for. all you knew was that you didn’t want him to stop, the feeling being too good to be true. your manicured pink nails traced cat-like scratches on the muscle of his strong arm.
“please what, sweetheart?” he giggled when you whimpered in response, dipping another finger inside your slick cunt. san’s hold on your hip tightened. “don’t even need to put my mouth on you, just my fingers are enough to turn you into a mess,” he babbled, lost in how your folds perfectly sucked his phalanges, already fantasizing about the feeling of his cock inside you. squelching noises emitted from the slickness of it echoed through the room.
“f-fuckk” you stuttered as your back arched into a perfect crescent moon, san sighing happily at the sight of it. god, he’s so in love with the expressions you do when he’s filling you up with pleasure. the way your eyes squeeze as a couple of tears try to escape out of them, and the way your mouth hangs open in response to the overwhelming satisfaction he provides you are details that he never misses in sessions like these.
“god, you’re so perfect. so perfect for me” he whispered under his breath in a heart-warming tone, his words causing you to clench around his fingers. of course, san didn’t let it go overlooked, his reaction being an egocentric smirk decorating his thin lips.
“come on, princess. cum on my fingers,” he uttered as he kissed your thighs, the rhythm of his fingers stimulating your entrance becoming faster. your mind wasn’t processing any coherent information, the only thing that went through it was san, his fingers, and how sexy he looked as he bit his bottom lip. “give in to me, doll.”
his fingers which had been ramming that sweet spot for five minutes now touched it once more. and that was the climactic moment, the moment you came undone under san’s touch. your mouth hung open as you moaned loudly repeating san’s name between them. his ear tingling at those sweet sounds.
“thaat’s it. good girl.” he praised, sliding his index and middle finger up and down your sensitive folds as he helped you to ride your high. his left hand stroking the outer side of your thighs.
“you good for another round, atta girl?”
| masterlist
#hwallazia#ateez#ateez smut#choi san#choi san smut#san smut#san x reader#choi san x reader#san drabble#choi san imagine#ateez scenarios#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez fanfic
501 notes
·
View notes
Text
Scars don't define you💫
Summary: Gojo starts to feel insecure about your love for him because of his scars
Feat: Gojo Satoru x reader
Content: fluff, mentions of Gojo vs Sukuna fight, reassuring, body insecurities, husband!Gojo x Wife!Reader. Ch 261 doesn't exist lol
Wc: 1121
Author's note: Hi!! I've never thought I will ever be doing this but here we are! Encouraged by my gojo friends in discord to continue this drabble🥰 Sorry in advanced for my poor grammar, English is not my first language 🫡
The Shinjuku incident meant a reborn for the the strongest sorcerer, and you, his wife as well. You almost lost the love of your life by the hands of the King of Curses. At first, you thought everything was over when you saw him laying down on the floor, his lifeless body starting to be covered by the heavy snow storm that had began to fall minutes earlier.
You felt useless, after all, you were a non sorcerer, so,as a civilian, you didn't to have another choice than staying where Shoko and the others were watching the battle being broadcasted.
But its been a long time since that jumpscare and you thanked every existent God and also Shoko for bringing your reason of living back to your arms.
Satoru and you both were laying in bed together, you are running your fingers along his scarred face; each fingertips of yours feeling every single injury of his skin.
As you continue with your doing,he closes his eyes at the softness of your sweet touch, at first, he enjoys it a lot, he always loved the way you did it, always being careful as if he was a glass meant to break, but fear set up on his mind;he thought you hated his scars, that you despise them and those marks ruined his pretty face, that you wouldn't love him anymore and, eventually, you would leave him alone as everyone did during his life, but this time, he wouldn't have a reason of living because you are his everything.
He doesn't even want to think how a life without in it would be, how alone he would feel again just like he did after Suguru's departure.
When that event occurred, when he was ordered to kill his best friend, he has never felt so useless as a sorcerer, but most of all, as a human being, so that was the reason he chose to stay alone for the rest of his days, to prevent someone from getting hurt by the mere fact of being involved with him. That was his idea until he met you at his favorite kikufuku store. He didn't believe in love at the first sight until he met you nor how does it feel to be in love until you.
you, his everything
He was afraid of losing you again, but now it was because of his appearance, he hated those scars because that meant you won't call him pretty angel or pretty face ever again. On the other hand, they were his reminder of a second opportunity, an opportunity he would take advantage of. His second chance to make things right and spend as much time as he could with you: not spending nights working or on mission trips, only with you, his home.
Now he is debating if telling you or not about his insecurity with his scarred skin, because he thinks you would laugh at this and ignore him, but call him silly for thinking that.
As he thinks about that, he sits up, preparing to get his shirt on. You can see how the mood changed, how an intimate moment filled with love and adoration became one filled with insecurities and non spoken words. He is looking for his shirt to put it on and leave the bedroom towards the balcony, so he can spare his mind off a little bit.
You wonder why he was feeling troubled and why he decided to ignore you and not talking with you as he has always done before. You are hesitant about ask him or not, you always wanted to give Satoru his space, you always respected that because after some time, he will come to you and tell you everything between thousands and thousands sorry for not telling you before.
All you can see now is his scarred back, and your intuition is screaming at you to do something so he could open himself up to you. After few seconds, an idea popped up in your mind; while satoru has his head between his hands, you approached to him slowly trying to not get noticed.
Satoru, who was lost in thoughts, suddenly felt your plump and soft lips along his scared back, giving it small pecs and smooches, replacing your lips with your small fingers tracing every single scar. He didn't understand what you were doing so he let you do so. Suddenly,he feels something he has only felt with you and you only: loved, adored, cherished, he was seen as a human, not a pretty face as he has been called few times, the strongest weapon for the jujutsu society, he was Satoru Gojo for you, your Toru.
He turned his head to where you were tracing your fingers and stared at you: you were focused and determined to make him feel alive again.
His small chuckle made you look up and meet those blue eyes you fell in love with many years ago;
"Hi sweets" he whispered without looking away" What are you doing?"
"Hi Toru" you giggled at that nickname he gave you only when you both were in an intimate moment "Nothing, just admiring your beauty" you responded never looking away from his mesmerizing blue eyes.
"Nothing about me is beautiful, princess" he said defeated. "Look at me" he pointed at his scarred skin, despising it, hating it.
"I'm looking at you, Toru. I'm always looking at you and all I see it's the prettiest, the most caring, loving man that I've ever met" you said putting his face in between your hands "I love you,Toru. If you ever think those scars will stop me from loving you, I must tell you don't me well. These scars are telling me that you are here" you give him a kiss in the tip of his pinky nose "alive, with me in our home"
After yours words, Satoru’s eyes immediately fill with tears, but before you notice, he closes his eyes to stop them and leans his head to your warm and reassuring touch, a warm feeling inside his chest arises.
He feels so grateful with you, you are his everything.You stopped caressing him at the moment he opens his eyes, blue like the ocean itself "I love you, angel" he says at the same time you started caressing the scar across his cheek.
"I love you too, Satoru and remember that you can tell me any trouble or inconvenience you are living through, okay? I'll always love you until my last breath" you said finishing the sentence with a quick kiss, which is immediately reciprocated
With this Satoru knew that he would never feel alone again.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk manga#jjk x reader#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff
404 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 .ᐟ
them forgetting a date night.
starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader
heads up. cursing, no fluff, sukuna can use a phone (bcs u taught him lol /j), sukuna calling u "woman"
note. haiii, how are you guys doing? make sure to take care of yourself!! i'm feeling a bit angsty today, so i'm gonna write a bit of angst. i miss gojo, like so much u guys :( i might make a part two for this btw hehe
──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
the one thing you hated more than people being late was people who don't keep their promises — your boyfriend wasn't an exception to it. gojo's a busy man, you get it. for months you haven't been able to see him because he was so caught up in the jujutsu world; he saves people dan and night from lingering curses that it broke you a bit.
the jujutsu world treats him like a weapon; and you never liked it. despite your constant battering on him, trying to get him to quit and just settled in for a quiet life, he tells you that he can't. that people needed him, and you felt selfish.
but isn't it fine to be selfish sometimes?
clutching onto your phone, you'd tried dialing gojo's number at least six times before he answers. his voice groggy and slow, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, "huh . . . hello?"
you wanted to yell at him, especially because he was the one who has been reminding you about this particular date night — and he was the one to forget about it, "good sleep?" you ended up asking him, voice hard.
"y/n . . . why did you—"
"why did i call? oh, i don't know. maybe because my boyfriend stood me up for an hour and a half. i look like an idiot sitting here, satoru," you mutter out in embarrassment, avoiding the lingering gazes from both waiters and waitresses around you.
for the past hour, you've lost count of how many times you'd ask them to refill your glass of tea — embarrassing. then telling them you were waiting for someone when they tried to ask you if you were going to order anything since there were people waiting for a table, just for the said person not showing up.
"what time is— oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry, i fell asleep when i was work—"
before he could finish his words, you finished it for him, "working. i get it, you're always working. clearly, you don't have time for anything else, right?" you ask him, signaling the waiter nearby for the bill.
"baby, i know. i'm so sorry, i'm on my way, okay? please," he whispers. you could hear a few shuffling on the background; along with a few curses he muttered under his breath as he stumble over his feet, mind hazy from all the sudden movements he was doing despite just waking up.
"no need. i'm leaving the place," you mutter, walking out of the restaurant — heels clacking on the pavement, "and 'm leaving you, because clearly you're not ready for a relationship, so bye."
gojo yells out, "what? no, baby. i swear — i'll make it up to you, please. don't leave me . . ." he rambled on the same words over and over again, "where are you? i'm picking you up. please, can we talk about this? i'm sorry, i know i should've—"
"bye, satoru," and with that you ended the call.
──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
you fiddled the hem of your dress as you sat inside the almost closed restaurant, the last speck of hope you had on your boyfriend —sukuna— dissipating into hopelessness. standing up you walked over to the cashier, taking out your card to pay for the one glass of shrimp cocktail and one glass of white wine.
the cashier shot you a sympathetic look, and you didn't dare to look her into her eyes. face hard from embarrassment and shame, "thank you for coming, come again next time, ma'am . . ." she bids you goodbye as she returns your card.
walking out of the restaurant that now had the 'closed' sign flipped made your stomach churn in mixed feelings: anger, embarrassment, shame, sadness, everything all at once.
sinking your nails onto the palm of your hand, you muttered out strings of curses. you knew being in a relationship with someone who had no understanding to the concept of love was a hard thing — but honestly, you thought you got a hang of it. all this time you had been nothing but patient with sukuna, but maybe even that wasn't enough for him.
three hours. you sat alone inside the restaurant you booked for the both of you for three hours — each hour depleting your hope even more. and sukuna just managed to fuck it up even after he said he'd try. well, you should've underlined the keyword there: he said he'd try not that he'd come.
maybe you saw it coming yet it still disappointed you anyways.
your phone rang. even before you see who it was — you knew it's none other than sukuna. your heart screamed at you to answer his phone call, but your mind told you to leave it ringing because you were in no mood to talk to him. yet, at the end — you still pressed the answer button.
"what?"
"where are you?" his rough voice echoed through the line as you walked down the nearly empty street, holding onto your purse, "place's closed."
scoffing, you answered, "'f course it's closed, it's almost ten. i've been waiting for three hours, ryo. three hours."
you could hear him inhale sharply, "i was caught up with something, woman. where are you now?" he questioned. hearing a few car honking behind on the background, "where are you? answer me."
"doesn't matter, i left. and i'm leaving you, i was wrong thinking maybe i could've changed you — turns out, i couldn't. good luck to you," you mutter out sternly.
sukuna raised a brow, "y're kidding."
you weren't, and all he could hear next was the loud dial tune of the other line hanging up — now did he realize that this was all serious and you were actually leaving him for good.
──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
you sighed, dialing toji for the first time of the night when he said that he was going to pick you up for a date, the phone rung for a while before going into voicemail. grumbling under your breath, you tried dialing him again for the second time, which ended up the same way.
all these time spent on makeup and picking out the best outfit — all for nothing as your boyfriend, toji failed to show up on time. angry, you tried calling him again for the third time, only for it to end up in voicemail yet again. this time you decided to leave a message for him.
"hey, you forgot. didn't you? hope you're happy with yourself, cause 'm not."
dating toji wasn't the easiest — but you love him, no matter what he was like. and it was stupid of you to do so, all this time you've defended his name against your friends' malice towards him, saying how he wasn't treating you well enough and that you deserved so much better.
despite all that, you love him. disregarding their words, retorting back to how toji treats you well, which he does — except for the times he tended to forget about everything, even you. maybe it was time to open your eyes and actually break up; because you did deserve better than this.
it would be a shame to let all this makeup go to waste, and so you hailed a cab and decided to go out for a treat. and made the best out of everything, that is until toji decided it would be the most convenient time to call you back amidst your little "me time".
wiping your hand on the napkin, you answered him, "huh, you're alive," you muttered out, huffing.
he sighs, "i forgot, sorry." you couldn't see him, but toji actually looked remorseful, already on his way out of his apartment to yours, "i'm on my way."
you chuckled, "doesn't matter. i left my house," you informed, taking a bite out of the crab meat, "so don't bother coming — and i don't think i don't deserve this kind of treatment from anyone, even you, toji. i'm breaking up with you because clearly you don't take this relationship as seriously as i am."
toji furrowed his brows, "i forgot, i fucked up, i can make it up. where are you right now?" he asks, his voice still as calm as cucumber. but the look on his face contradicted the tone of his voice.
"bye, toji. good luck."
© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen angst#gojo satoru#gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo angst#gojo satoru angst#sukuna ryomen#sukuna#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna angst#sukuna ryomen angst#toji fushiguro#toji#toji fushiguro x reader#toji angst#toji fushiguro angst#gojo satoru x female reader#sukuna ryomen x female reader#toji fushiguro x female reader
385 notes
·
View notes
Text
✨☁️💧💤✨Pick-A-Card: Who’s Dreaming About You?✨☁️💧💤✨
💐 Pick an image (1, 2, 3, or 4) for a message about who’s been seeing you in dreams, and maybe visiting you in the astral realm. 💐
✨Focus your intention and remain open — if none of the images light up for you, there may not be a message for you in this reading! Alternatively, more than one image might connect with you. As always, trust your intuition and take what resonates, leaving the rest.
Onto the readings!
#1: 🫧 Bubbles 🫧
The person dreaming of you might be a sister or close girl/feminine in your life. I get the image of a girl with tears in her eyes, with the feeling that they wish they could talk to you/are upset about something that has happened between you. There’s an energy of youth and feeling sorry for their action(s), and wishing to make things right but not knowing how. Literally bursting bubbles, tears spilling down cheeks.
If this resonates with you, there’s no specific path for you to take with this person — what you do with this information is up to you. That being said, the advice I’m feeling is for you to deeply consider the situation and if there can be a way forward for you, maybe with a level-headed conversation about boundaries and how to work together. I do get the feeling that the person dreaming of you is trying their best, and if they apologize they really do mean it, even if they still make the same mistakes repeatedly. There’s a sense of emotional dysregulation here or immaturity on their side, which feels hard because they struggle against it. Definitely a specific message for maybe only a few people, but I hope that at least gives some insight!
Keywords: sister, red-faced, tears/snot, roses, skinned knees, tantrum, car/car keys, drinking
PS Feel free to let me know if it resonates with you and if you have any feedback!
#2: 🌿🌞 Sunbeam + Water + Branch 🌞🌿
This is a very dreamy energy (lol), and feels very nostalgic, very different from the first group message. Maybe a school friend or someone from uni. I get the image of them looking down a bit absently, tracing their fingers over an open hardback book with a red cover. This is someone you may have not seen for a little while, or perhaps won’t see for the summer (if you’re in Northern hemisphere). I get the image of stolen glances and them looking at you while you’re with a group of people/friends, and then wishing they could tell you how they feel. It’s possible they’ve been a bit unconscious in their feelings for you in the past, but I feel they’re aware of them now. Curious, maybe pining a bit. I get the image of a 90s boy haircut, like Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic. Wants to say something but feels like there’s some kind of emotional distance to cross. Unlikely they will say anything about how they feel at this time, or even the next time you see each other if you’re away for a bit. Feeling it out for sure.
Keywords: summer, Coca Cola, red, red nail polish, sea swimming, shy, magazines, bicycles
PS Feel free to let me know if it resonates with you and if you have any feedback!
#3: 🌊 Waves 🌊
Lot more angst in this group. Someone feeling very angry with themselves over how things were left between you if you’re not talking, or how they’ve been unable to communicate well if you are in contact. This has a stronger emotional/spiritual connection than like #2, and feels more like a partner/former partner. There’s a volatility here and the image of someone frustratedly punching into their hand. The anger feels directed at themselves, and there’s the awareness of their own emotional blockage(s). For some of you, they may be trying to come up with ways to approach you or talk about how they feel/what’s going on, but it feels like they’re coming at it from a pretty rigid headspace. Trying to “fix” things and pushing against harder emotions. They don’t feel necessarily toxic or cruel, but maybe create a lot of their own problems through trying to “tough it out” or use their head to mend things instead of allowing themselves to soften and feel things through. I don’t get the feeling either way that you are in contact or not, but in either case they are trying to muscle through their frustration right now which feels hard. I don’t feel any advice for you, beyond that it’s good to remind yourself you can’t do the work for someone. Sometimes you have to let someone struggle through the hard bits on their own time and terms.
Keywords: rock, wrestle(r), tea tree, masculine, hands, thick eyebrows, clenched jaw
PS Feel free to let me know if it resonates with you and if you have any feedback!
#4 🌱🌾Sunny Meadow 🌾🌱
This energy feels very peaceful, and I get that this is either a past life connection you haven’t met yet or you have, but have not been in contact for a long, long time (potentially many years). You could also have met this person recently or briefly, but don’t know them very well yet. There’s a patient energy to it, earthy and contant. Like the way a tree experiences life and seasons, this love for you feels eternal. It’s a semi-conscious tether to you, like regardless of what this person is doing in their day-to-day life, you are on the back burner of their mind. It’s a constant, soul-deep love. I’d go so far to say it’s so deeply rooted that it connects to the cosmic river. So eternal, so ethereal while also completely in Gaia/Earth energy. Hard to put into words but if you resonate with this, you’ll know the feeling I talk about. Like so chilled out and in bliss, completely straddling human time and the eternal present.
Keywords: green, earthy, moss, stone face, wooden idol, old gods, river of stars. eternity.
PS Feel free to let me know if it resonates with you and if you have any feedback!
#pick a card#pick a pile#tarotcommunity#tarot#tarot reading#divination#pac reading#tarot pac#free tarot#free tarot reading#loa#law of assumption#idk what tags to use lol#channeled message#channeled reading
194 notes
·
View notes
Note
I would LOVE to see a TFA!Megatron x human reader of some kind. I love him so much, such an intimidating and scary but fun version of him 🤭 I want it to be in the First Contact AU still, but why not sorta spice things up and make it have soulmates in it? Wouldn't it be cool to have a giant alien warlord from space destroying cities to find their soulmate? 😳🫣 lol if this idea sucks de bout it, but I'm excited to see your works that's transformers g/t related!
- ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST CHAMELANON! PLEASE ENJOY!!! God I love TFA Megs so much. He's so hot AUGH!
Be Careful What You Wish For
Pairing: TFA Megatron x Human Reader (Soulmate Au)
Word Count: 2961
Summary: Soulmates exist, and you have one. Proof exists in the form of soulmarks: a red thread-like tattoo imprinted on a person's arm. Only when one meets their soulmate and touches them will the soulmark disappear. Unfortunately, you have yet meet yours. After many lonely days wishing you would be reunited with your Other Half, a chaotic encounter with the leader of the Decepticons has you realizing one thing. And it is that soulmates persevere across time...and space.
Soulmates are real.
Since you were a young child, this is what you have been told. Soulmates are real, and every person has one. The special red thread that connects two people twines between the left hand’s fingers, up the arm, snaking under the clavicle and ending directly over the heart. Bright like the blood running through your veins, it is your life force, your compass leading you to your Other Half, with your hand outstretched to touch theirs…and only then will the red thread disappear.
You’ve spent hours staring at that red line, tracing the pattern it makes on your flesh. It’s been a constant presence throughout your life…and it has never gone away. No matter who you’ve met, who you have fallen in love with, who you have fallen out of love with, it is all the same. The thread remains, and you continue to carry a lonely heart within you.
“Give it time,” your loved ones tell you. “You’ll find them. It won’t happen in a heartbeat. You need to be patient.”
Yes, you know. Patience, after all, is a virtue. Plenty go about their lives and never even see their thread go away. An existence without your soulmate can be a perfectly happy one. But you want to know who your Other Half is. You want to be one of the lucky few who can be counted as soulfully complete.
Sitting in a coffee shop with a hot chocolate cupped between your hands, you find yourself once again observing your thread. The morning is cold; you can feel the wind trying to bite you through the shop’s large glass window. People bundled in their coats, scarves, and gloves hurry by, heads down and minds focused on whatever tasks they have at hand. Looking out, you observe them with a blank stare, not really observing them at all.
“Anything I can get you right now?” The older woman who owns the shop comes up to you, offering a plate of freshly baked cookies. “Chocolate chip? They’re right out of the oven!”
You offer her a thin smile and shake your head no. She understands; she’s seen you forlornly watching couples pass by. Sighing, she sets down the plate. “You know,” she says. “I didn’t meet my soulmate until I was in my early 40’s.”
You raise an eyebrow. She sees your surprise and chuckles. “I know, right? A little late to be meeting my Other Half. But hey, it happened. And now look at me! I’m living a good life, running a successful business, and I got to see my thread go away. Those are all things I never thought I’d get to experience. All I had to do was wait a little!”
You cringe. Yes, waiting. It seems all you’ve been doing is waiting, waiting, waiting, all for a soulmate who might never come. You and your damn waiting.
She notices your mood go sour and sighs again. “Listen, all I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t lose hope. You’ll meet your soulmate. I know you’ve probably heard this before, but…you need to give the world time to sort things into order. That’s all you really can do when you're dealing with the threads of fate.”
You mumble a quiet “Thank you” and try to look appreciative, when you feel anything such. She says no more, but leaves you a cookie before heading off to tend to the other customers. You watch her go, then lift up your left hand. Your thread is vibrantly bright, showing no signs of fading any time soon.
Yeah, you think sadly while you bite into the cookie. No hope lost whatsoever.
You are walking out of the shop when it happens. The door’s little chimes clink together as you swing it open and bid the owner farewell. And then, a pain unlike any other hits you with the force of a freight train. It tackles you and makes you stagger, knees buckling and bringing you to the ground in a matter of seconds. Your heart starts slamming against your ribcage so hard you think a bone might crack. Pushing your hand against your chest, you pant and watch your vision swim as you attempt to get to your feet, yet fail and fall down once more.
Multiple people help you up, each one asking if you are alright. You hold out a shaking hand as if to assure them, but no sound comes out of your mouth when you try to speak.
Someone says, “Call an ambulance!” You want to tell them you are fine; unfortunately, you can’t seem to form any coherent words. All that rises up from your throat is a thin, wispy whimper.
The chaos continues when out of nowhere, an explosion erupts further down the street. People scream and scramble back. The people holding you let go, and you nearly topple right over again. Shouts of panic and confusion fill the air, confirming that no one has a clue as to what is going on.
Two dark shapes scream through the sky. You look up just in time to see a fighter jet fly past with a bomber plane following behind. For a moment, you think this is some sort of military aerial show-why such a thing would be happening in the middle of winter, you don’t know-but it’s the only conclusive argument you can decide on what you are seeing.
But then the two planes start descending. They roar over the crowded street, then begin morphing and shaping themselves into creatures completely different from the disguises they previously sported. You recognize them: they are Cybertronians. Robots from outer space who have become borderline celebrities in Detroit since arriving here months earlier. These two, however, aren’t members of the heroic Autobots who help protect the city. They are Decepticons. The villains, the destroyers. The bad ones.
The smaller of the two stretches his arms over his head. He laughs maniacally as he watches people run. “Look at them, Lugnut! They’re scurrying away like little ants!”
The other Deception growls and pays no mind to his partner. “Silence, Blitzwing. Lord Megatron has a mission for us to complete. We must distract the humans while he finds the one he is looking for.”
Blitzwing’s face swivels and changes into an icy blue expression. He surveys the humans around him with an air of disgust. “I don’t understand why Lord Megatron cares to capture one of these creatures. They are far too weak to be kept as pets.”
“It is not my place to question him, nor is it yours. We are here to do as we are told and give our lord the time he needs to complete his mission.” Lugnut grabs a car and throws it into the air. It crashes down with a heavy slam, windows shattering, metal crumpling, alarm screeching out the vehicle’s pain. You watch in horror, unable to fathom that you have a front row seat to this show of destruction Detroit is about to face.
Yeah, no, you think. I’m not sticking around. These Decepticons obviously have no regard for human lives. If you remain here, there is a high chance you will end up dead. You need to run, now.
“You're not going anywhere, little one.”
The voice is deep, and it pulses through your mind like a gong. You clutch your head and bite back a shout of pain. A strange feeling builds up in your chest. It makes your heart beat faster, and your thread begins to burn with an uncomfortable warmth you have never felt before.
A third vehicle appears from the sky: a strange helicopter with two blades and a massive cannon mounted beneath its cockpit. Your hair whips back when it lands. The Cybertronian’s body condenses and rises, metal folding over metal, creating a gigantic figure with narrowed red eyes that immediately land on you the moment they open. Your jaw drops; this is easily the biggest mech you have ever seen. And you recognize him. Megatron, the feared leader of the Decepticon forces, and the worst bot you could run into right now.
Lugnut drops to his knees and bows. “I serve you, Lord Megatron!”
Megatron does not acknowledge him. He remains focused on you. You are finding it hard to breathe.
Blitzwing walks over to the taller mech. “My lord, the Autobots will be arriving soon. What should we do?”
“Continue destroying what you can.” Megatron’s voice is a deep rumble of thunder. You feel the wind get knocked out of you when you hear it. His voice. His voice. Why are you so focused on his voice?
Your thread is beginning to burn. You slap your hand over your left arm and squeeze, hissing through your teeth. Megatron notices; he looks intrigued.
“Have you found what you are looking for, master?” Lugnut asks.
“Indeed I have,” Megatron replies. “And I don’t intend to let it escape me. Resume your orders. Keep the Autobots back for as long as you can. Once I have what we came here for, I will sound the retreat.”
Blitzwing and Lugnut do not question him any further. You, on the other hand, are questioning everything. Why is this robot having such an effect on you? Why can you hear his voice in your head? And why, why is your soulmark on fire?!
He’s here for me. There’s no solid confirmation that has been given to you about this, but you know deep down it is true.
He’s looking right at me.
Shit. Fuck.
Your legs want to move. But your brain forbids it and forces you to remain put, even as other people go running by you, their screams mingling as one high-pitched wail while Blitzwing and Lugnut destroy anything they can get their hands on.
Megatron remains still. He tilts his head with the air of a curious predator who is searching out the weak spots of his prey. You cannot drop eye contact with him. Something about his piercing gaze has you rooted to the spot in which you stand.
Only when he begins lumbering towards you do you snap out of it and run with the rest.
Everything is a blur for you. You nearly get shoved to the ground multiple times by the panicked masses who are fleeing. It feels like Detroit is crashing down. Police drones are flying in to fight back against the Decepticons, but you don’t think for a second they’ll do any damage against them. After all, they hardly ever do.
“Don’t run from me, little one.”
There is pain. So much pain. It is too much for you to handle. It causes you to collapse, clutching your head and writhing in agony.
“You are so much more fascinating than the rest of your pathetic kind.”
The ground trembles. Each step signals the robot drawing closer and closer.
“Why can I feel what you feel? Why does my spark tremble with your fear? I don’t understand it. I need to understand it. So stop running, and come here.”
You need to keep going. Grunting, you struggle to your feet and stumble forward in a haphazard fashion. You don’t even bother looking back to see if the robot is close. You just need to run. You need to hide.
Your miracle appears in the form of a parking garage. Squirming under the partially closed grated gate, you find that it is abandoned; no one is in here with you, and the cars are all empty, abandoned by their owners. You retreat into a corner dark and covered with shadows. It should provide you with the necessary cover you need in order to hide.
You remain in there for what feels like hours. It goes awfully quiet outside. Any remaining civilians are long gone. Somewhere close, you think you hear the sound of mechs duking it out. Your breathing echoes off of the parking garage’s walls, giving you a further sensation of complete unease. Perhaps hiding in here wasn’t the best choice. Maybe you should have continued running with other people to a safer spot. Allowing others to be in your presence would endanger them…but now you are alone, completely defenseless to those who wish you harm. The robot who is currently stalking you can kill you without even thinking about it. By hoping to protect the city, you may have ensured your own doom.
You hear stomping outside. Too loud to be human, too heavy to be an Autobot. Your heart tugs eagerly on its strings in an attempt to break free. It’s a mutual sensation of utter fear and strange wanting.
“Where are you?”
You see the massive head of the mech appear right underneath the gate. A shriek nearly escapes you, and you have to slap your hands over your mouth to quell it. A single roving red eye searches the garage, unblinking.
“I am not known for my patience, human. If you do not show yourself, I cannot guarantee things will end up well for you.”
The eye settles on you. It narrows and a low growl emits from the robot’s intake. “There you are.”
You have no chance to react before Megatron’s hand smashes through the gate. You scream when his fingers curl around you. Tightly pressed against his palm, you struggle and kick your feet while Megatron slowly draws you out into the open.
“Let me go!” you shriek. “Stop! Please!”
Megatron growls again and gives you a warning squeeze. “Fighting me will get you nowhere. Cease this at once, or suffer the consequences.”
Well, that’s threatening. You immediately go limp and snap your mouth shut. Megatron snorts, satisfied. He brings you closer to his face, studying you. You shrink back, flush with panic and terror.
“What is your name, human?” he rumbles.
You stutter out a barely coherent reply. “Y-Y-Y/N.”
“Y/N.” He repeats it to himself. “Y/N…a fitting name. Tell me, have we ever met before?”
“I…I d-don’t believe so?” you say.
“Hm.” He regards you, turning his hand left and right so he can examine you from all angles. “How very interesting.”
“W-What’s interesting?”
“Your mark.” He pushes his thumb under your left forearm. “It’s gone.”
You follow his gaze. Indeed, where your thread should have been-the thread that has been with you for your entire life, a presence in which you believed would never leave you-there is only bare skin. There isn’t a speck of red to be seen. The burning that accompanied it before is gone too, and now there is a sort of settlement weighing on your chest. It is an instinctive rush of fulfillment, like this was meant to happen.
You feel faint. Nothing makes sense anymore when you look back at the robot. “You…You're my soulmate?” you squeak.
“Soulmate.” Megatron stretches the word out into a slow drawl. “So that’s what your species calls it. Yes, you can say that. My kind has a similar phenomenon that affects us.” He opens his mouth and breathes in deeply. “You smell of fear. I can see in your eyes that you know me. So this city is aware of who I am, hm?”
You don’t dare answer. You're way too terrified of how close his massive teeth are to you. You don’t want to think about what might happen if you find yourself between them.
“There is no need to be afraid of me. Our sparks are linked. I would be killing a piece of myself if I were to eliminate you.” He sighs. “As disappointed as I am to discover that my sparkmate is a human, I can learn to work with it. I wish to know more about you, Y/N. I will know why fate tied us.”
“I need to know more.”
“What makes you so different?”
“Foolish little thing, you cannot get away from me.”
“I will get to the bottom of this.”
His thoughts are loud and overwhelming. You shake your head and feel tears gather in your eyes. “Please…It’s too much. Your thoughts-”
“Ah. Is that primitive brain of your overloading? I can hear it. Don’t think your thoughts aren’t in my head as well.” He rises to his full height. “I am sure we will both learn to get used to it. If not, I will have Shockwave create something that will bar my thoughts from entering your mind.”
“Wait! Wait!” You look down. The ground is far away from you. Everything sways queasily when Megatron begins to walk. “No! Put me down!”
“If you vomit on me, I will not hesitate to drop you,” the Decepticon says gratingly.
“Y-You can’t take me with you!” you yell at him. “I can’t be your soulmate! There has to be a mistake!”
“The spark doesn’t lie. Your mark is gone, and I can feel the completion you bring me. There is no question that you are my Other Half. What I want to know is why.” He shakes his head angrily. “It is a burden to have such a weak creature by my side. But I will learn to understand. Perhaps you can show me the few strengths humans possess. Do you think you can convince me to spare your race, little one?”
He’s taking you. He’s not letting you go. You feel faint with horror at the realization that you aren’t getting out of this. Whether you believe it or not, this alien robot is your soulmate.
You’ve gotten exactly what you wanted. But this isn’t how you thought meeting your Other Half would go.
You hear one last thought from Megatron echo ominously in your mind. It sends shivers down your spine. “You are mine now.”
After that, you pass out.
#gator writes#transformers#tfa megatron x reader#megatron x reader#tfa megatron#megatron#transformers x reader#transformers x human reader#reader insert#transformers animated#tfa#maccadam#transformers g/t#giant tiny
165 notes
·
View notes
Text
i love you.
pairing(s): jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: in where yn finally tells jack and she loves him.
warning(s): completely fluff! a little suggestive towards the end!
wc: 1.4k
an: hiiii loves!!! writing for jack again, i missed writing for him sooo much. so enjoy this is little cute fluffy piece I wrote, i have nooo idea where this came from, like most of my ideas i pull them out of my ass LOLL. working on other works later today, more will be coming this weekend, to make up for my lack of posting. i honestly missed writing soooo much. okay i'm done, for now lol. hopefully you enjoy, like and reblog if you do. much love as always<3
happy reading <3
Tonight was the night, tonight I am going to tell Jack I love him. Jack and I have been dating for 8 months today, and neither of us have said those 3 special words to each other. I've loved jack for about 5 months now, i mean i how could i not? Jacks been the best boyfriend I can ask for, caring and sweet, loving, all of the above. So why was I so scared to say I love you?
Saying i love you for the first time in a relationship is a big thing, deep down i know jack loves me, well i hope he does. The fear of him not feeling the same why back scares me, but im not letting the fear of his response hold me back anymore. Tonight is the night.
It just so happens to be our 8 month anniversary, Jack insisting that we go out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. So here I am standing in front of my mirror smoothing and looking at every piece of myself. Making sure my hair falls in the right places, that my dress all fits in the right places. Over analyzing my makeup, constantly fixing the already perfect lipstick I applied 5 times again.
My phone dings, picking it up with shaking hands, seeing Jack texted me saying he’s down stairs waiting for me. Typing a quick response, I grab my bag from my room, and take a deep breath before I head out my door. The walk to the elevator and the ride down the elevator feels like a lifetime. I'm starting to think I just scrape this idea completely and just head right back up.
The door opens in the lobby, walking out I send a quick smile and wave to the doormen in the lobby. Pushing open the door, I see Jack standing outside his car, his phone in his hands reading something. As soon as he hears my heels click against the sidewalk, his head pulls up imminently, his eyes wide as he flashes me a smile, shoving his phone in his pocket as he begins to walk towards me.
“Holy shit” is the first thing Jack says as his hands reach my hips, his cool fingers running along the fabric of my dress. “You look beautiful”
“Thank you, you look very handsome too.” I saw my eyes running over his body, taking in the dress pants and shirt he had on, even swapping his air forces for a dresser type of shoe.
“Are you ready for dinner, pretty girl?” he asks, making his way to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for me.
“Yes I am, lead the way” I say , saluting him once he gets into the car. a laugh rips through him as he starts the car, a smile playing on his face as he turns to me.
“I can't get over how pretty you are”
“Jack”
“What i'm just stating the facts' ' he says with a chuckle, i can feel my face heat up with blush as he continues to look at me.
“You’re so pretty when you blush”
“Jackkkkk '' I whine playfully out, turning my body away so he can't see the smile that breaks out across my face.
“Do you plan on leaving anytime today?” i ask jokingly my eyes locked on his
“After i do this” he says
I didn't even register what he had said to me before I felt his hand sliding around my jaw pulling my face towards his, capturing my lips into a sweet kiss. Our lips moving in sync my hands moving to cup his jaw pulling myself even closer to him.
“I've wanted to do that since I saw you tonight,” Jack says as he pulls away from my lips, his hand still cupping my jaw. Our eyes remained locked for a few more moments, tension, and heat filling the car as we stared at each other.
Jack clears his throat before pulling his hands from my face, my body already missing the contact.
“I think we should do that again.” i say look at him
“Baby if we do that again we won't make it to dinner, my control is already being tested by how you look in that dress.” he says as he pulls out of the parking spot, his hands holding the wheel tightly as he begins to drive.
I turn to look out of the window as my face begins to heat up with a blush again, smiling as I look at the city lights as we ride past them. My mind slowly reminds me of what I planned on doing tonight, saying I love you to the man that I love. Might be the scariest thing I've ever done before. The devil on my shoulder starts to control my thoughts as I ask myself, why hasn't Jack said I love you first? What's stopping him, then again what's stopping me?
“Are you okay?” Jack asks, his voice breaking through the silence of the car. “You've been very quiet” he follows
“I'm okay, sorry” I replied, my hands twirling nervously in my hands.
“You're doing that thing with your hands, somethings up” jack says, i can feel his eyes on me, as he stops at a red light.
“What's on your mind baby? You know you can talk to me right?”
“I know i can, i just can't say this to you, i'm scared” i say softly
“Did someone hurt you, did I do something wrong? Baby look at me”
Tears threaten to fall from my eyes, as I turn my face towards him, feeling mad at myself for making him feel like he did something, just because I can't express how I feel for him, because I'm scared.
I no longer want to be scared, I love him. I want him to know that I love him, no matter his response.
I take a deep breath before saying “can I tell you something?” I ask as he pulls into the restaurant, turning off the car before turning to face me.
“Yes of course, always” Jack says, giving me a small smile, waiting for my next move.
This is all getting to real, i can feel my hands start shaking, my heart beat increasing by each beat.
“Okay, i don't really know how to say this, but i'll just say it i guess. I- i love you." I finally said. “And I've loved you for a while now, I never knew how to say it to you. I've been so scared of your response, and i didnt know if you felt the same way. Its okay if you don't feel the same-”
My rambling is suddenly cut off by the feeling of Jack's lips on mine, his lips dancing with mine, I struggle to keep up with him as he tangles his hands in my hair pulling me harder against his lips.
Jack pulls away first, our chests rising quickly, he stares back at me with wide eyes.
“Say that again” he says
“That I love you?”
“Yes fuck” he says brining his hand to my cheek again holding it softly, looking at me with love and adoration. “I love you.” he finally says.
“I love you so much,” he says, kissing my lips after every word.
“Im sorry, i know i should have said it a lot sooner” i say looking at him
“No, I should have said it first,” Jack replies. “But i'm happy you said it, i truly mean it yn, i love you.”
My heart melts at his words, Jack loves me, he loves me. I couldn't help but smile brightly at him, Jack returning the same smile to me. Suddenly I feel the car being turned on as Jack pulls out of the restaurant, heading the opposite direction.
“Jack, where are you going? I thought we were going to have dinner "I ask, looking at him as he continues to drive away from the restaurant.
“We’re going home” he says
“Why are we going home?” I am still very confused about the sudden change of plans.
“Because I want you in my bed, naked. I want to make love to the girl that I love. Is that okay?” he asks, turning his towards me for a brief moment.
“more than okay with me” i say
“I love you.”
#nhl fanfiction#nhl hockey#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#nhl fic#new jersey devils#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes#jh86#jack hughes fluff
115 notes
·
View notes
Note
for the love of all that is HOLY part two to that caesar fic maybe a continuation where you left off. Reader cleaning his body? *Wiggles eyebrows suggestively*
I said I wasn't posting today well guess who Lied LOL. We love one stoic hot ape here and his name is CAESAR,, Reblogs and likes always appreciated, enjoy reading.
Title: Side By Side.
Fandom: Planet of the Apes.
Pairing: Caesar x Human! Reader.
Rating: T. ( Teeny tiny bit of aggression. )
Words: 2.1K+
Summary: ** Part One: War Paint**
Putting the paint on was the easy part of your job.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻
Your hands were shaking. You didn't have an excuse this time like before. You weren’t cold, even Caesar had to have noticed that you were in fact sweating, a small fire in front of you being more than enough to pound you into a lucid sense of heat. Tucking your long sleeves up on your biceps to keep them out of the way, you dipped a cloth into water gathered from the river nearby. Notice, he surely did. He didn't need to see, he could simply smell it. Almost every move you made in front of him caused a sweet fragrance to waft his way. It was so very familiar to Caesar, it almost felt like he’d drown in it. Nervous? He tilted his head minutely. Yes, Caesar had seen you nervous and he knew how it looked on your face. Reserved? Yes, Caesar repeated and watched as you wrangled the old cloth, enjoying the sound of the droplets falling back into the bigger pitcher of water.
Like rain against a roof, it reminded the Ape King of a meager memory and he found himself sliding his eyes shut. He could recall many times in San Fransisco… Many rainy nights where he sat in the home he proudly shared with Will, Caroline and Charles… Listening to the rain, looking out the window, wondering what it would feel like on his fur, what it would feel like cupped in his hand. Little did Caesar know in those moments of self-reflections, that many years later, they would be gone from him and all he was left with was the sensation now of water dripping from his fur onto the floor below, giving the impression that it was bridging the gap between himself and you. Taking advantage of his closed eyes, you made your move and swiped the cloth against the bridge of his brows and down the right side of his face. You were more comfortable working around his expressions if his eyes were not dragging you down into a room full of thoughts that were only about Caesar.
The white paint smeared against his wrinkled skin, giving a small twitch as you dragged the cloth across the space next to his muzzle. He seemed to have aged overnight from years upon years of unbridled stress and loss. Your heart churned uncomfortably at that, at how rugged he looked, at how he held himself as opposed to earlier. He seemed so tired now, so willing to accept and roll over. All you wanted to do was throw the cloth over your shoulder and embrace his face in both your hands. Take in each pleasure of feeling how it traced under your fingers, your bare fingers. Caesar tried to keep it light and positive when you had talked about loss before, but it was so apparent that it had a detrimental effect on him despite his ability to put on a mask for his Colony, for the greater good of the Apes. Where there was loss, he had explained in a rather rudimentary way, typical of Caesar when he knew what he wanted to express but lacked the dictionary knowledge of how to put it in a way that you would understand. With loss, there was much to be gained was how he put it. Said like a true leader, you dropped the conversation after that and it was never brought up again.
That’s how it worked with the Ape King. You questioned, he answered and you left it alone; Caesar was not a creature to come back to dwindling thoughts when he was so adversely confident in his abilities, practices and words. That’s what made him so enticing, magnetic by force and you fell right into the sphere of his gravity. Shaking that thought out of your head, you drew your bottom lip to urge yourself to focus on the task at hand and lightly placed the cloth against his cheek idly. You were looking at him now; the furrow of his brow, his mouth slightly agape as if in anticipation of your next movements, eyes shut, not squeezing but flutteringly that if he wanted to look right back at you, it wouldn’t take much effort on his part. A thin set of eyelashes trickled with action as you came upwards and swept the paint from under his eyes. Droplets fell onto his cheeks, giving the faux nature of tears. It was symbolic, in some sick and twisted way and your eyes trailed the drop down, down… It got lost in the fur of his chin.
Oblivious to your own nature now as you were so transfixed on the Chimp in front of you, your mouth had fallen open, bottom teeth now evident in Caesar’s eyes as he finally opened them in question of what you were doing, what was taking so long. Lake was fast to clean, you were slow, biding your time for an unknown reason, at least to Caesar. Green irises burned a hole in you, through your skull and it felt like he was able to read your thoughts. It felt like your skin was crawling, like he was inside of you and puppeteering as you unwaveringly looked right back at him.
Big mistake.
“Uh---” You hummed under your breath, the huff hitting his face due to the close proximity before you turned your body away from him, knees now pointing to an empty corner of Caesar's private sanctuary instead of directly at the King. A shot of what felt like electricity lingered in your entire self, radiating uncomfortable from your fingertips, your thighs, your head and oddly enough, your toes even felt a bit funny. “T-…” Clearing your throat as you dipped the cloth back in to get more dampened, you were screaming to keep your heart from jumping out of your chest. There was absolutely no way that he didn't know that, telling you often that he was able to get a good view of your internal self from his ability to smell, his ability to hear your heartbeat.
“The paint came off a little bit.” A mindless topic of conversation, and you weren’t sure if Caesar would comply. He wasn’t big into small talk and really only pleasured you with it when he felt it served a purpose.
He hummed in response, knowing you had to figure that words weren’t necessarily worth any other acknowledgement. It was such a deep sound coming from his chest, Caesar’s eyeline suddenly flushed with your chest as you stood. “It…” He nodded silently as you advised him just as quietly that you needed him to shift. With intentful action, Caesar’s jaw clenched as he let his head tilt backwards mildly, only accentuated when you had pressed an urging finger under his chin to aid. “Rained…” He bargained with you, “Thought it would.” That was said with what could only be described as smugness.
You paused in front of him as his words spilled, giving you the wanted attention that was leaking out of all of your pores. The way his voice came out in the position he found himself in was rougher than usual, vocal cords straining against his jugular. Pleadingly, you looked at said body part and felt a flush of something familiar now lingering in your tailbone. You could just reach up and grab it, though you knew Caesar would grab yours in return, probably ripping the vein right out of your neck. You began applying a bit more pressure to the red that trailed between his brows and down his nose the only part of his face paint that lingered. The white was easily gone, already faded deeply from being exposed to the weather. He was tentative in nature, staring at the ceiling before his eyes were flooded again, this time with your face as you moved above him to look, observing he assumed, where you needed to apply more pressure to clean the now crusting paint off his perpetually grouchy appearance.
Statically, he grasped your wrist when the realization came to light that with his face clean, all that was left was his body. He had enough with the paint placement on his chest hours ago,thankful to get that out of his mind for the hunting trip he went on with his closest council. That hard beating of his heart, that vile feeling in the very pit of his stomach at the idea of you just cleaning him… No no, Caesar’s eyes narrowed in thought. Grooming him made him uneasy with conflicted desires. Just mere seconds away from the cloth touching his chest, from letting you draw it along the lines you had placed on him, erasing them from his chest and following suit downwards… Down, down…
Caesar's teeth clattered together in his mouth, the sound so loud in his ears. So close to the burdens, introspective thoughts and animalistic urges he had about this entire situation. He wouldn’t be able to control himself if he allowed you to continue; allowed your hands anywhere near him anymore. If he just… let you… You twitch your wrist in his grasp. Ultimately now, you were one bad flick of the hand away from Caesar absolutely crushing your radius and ulna. He wouldn’t; but the gravitas of the thought rocketed a primal fear in your mind.
You stared at the mere contact of his hand entirely encasing your wrist, usually not a point of contention. Caesar had grasped at you in the past when you were flurrying off the rails just to keep you momentarily grounded enough, never enough to make intimate contact but enough to draw your senses back in. Most often, it happened when you were talking about something in a passionate fashion.
Your mouth parted in wonderment before trailing your gaze up his forearm, not doubting that if you chose to reach out and touch, it would ripple with taunt muscles. His bicep, the sheer size was enough to cause a lump to form in your throat. The width alone left enough to your imagination, the knowledge that he could very easily pick things up, heavier than his body weight, with just one arm. The glow of the fire in front of you illuminated his features further, giving play to shadows along the bridge of his nose, flirting and teasing at the line of fur that started right above his brows. He was undoubtedly handsome, you tried to come up with an excuse for your thoughts but nothing came to fruition.
There had to be a question lingering on his lips. They were pursed in such a position that it appeared he was going to say something. A hot flash hit the back of your throat as you wistfully admired him from such a juxtaposed position, knowing factually that you had to have looked so stupidly star-struck.
What was he thinking? You slid only an inch or two closer, body almost leaving the rock you were sitting on, knees swerving to give him your utmost attention. What was he…? Caesar stared right at you, gaze refusing to leave your own even if you chose to break the bond then and there. Whatever grasp you had on the cloth you were using to clean faltered and it fell flat onto the ground in front of you with a soft ‘sploosh’ sound. What was he thinking? Linearly, you looked into his eyes and found yourself wrapped in how they looked. Eclipsed irises coupled with dilated pupils, most likely due to the fire and dim lighting that encased your bodies, at least, that’s what you were telling your racing mind. Delicately, the flames flickered against your face… Too delicately and Caesar felt something prickly inside of his mind as he wanted to take that delicate nature and crush it between his hands, giving him pure dominance over the most subtle and entangling form of submission.
Gasping as his clutch on your ceased, your other hand rose instinctually and held your wrist tenderly. You were going to bruise there. He was almost aggressive in nature, giving the appearance of shaking you off of him like a bug. “You… Don’t… need to finish.”
You blinked, figuring out when he beckoned you after his arrival that he was only allowing you to clean him due to the human element of it. You knew he didn't care if it came off or how it came off; the opportunity for you to clean him was just another in the long list of Caesar accommodations he made for you. You wanted to ask why. Why you didn't need to finish, why he wouldn’t let you but all he muttered to you as his back was suddenly in your line of vision was, “Paint will… come off with rain.”
Opening your mouth to protest, you found yourself deflected as Caesar rose, all so powerful, his stance telling you that he was more than capable of taking care of himself here. His eyes, those eyes that had been so intently lingering in yours, were now hardened and so very distant. “You… should... go.”
#caesar#caesar planet of the apes#pota#planet of the apes#caesar x reader#caesar x human reader#kingdom of the planet of the apes#kotpota#fanfiction#fanfic#emmy writes
105 notes
·
View notes
Text
Touchstarved LIs, on a scale of how much they fuck with you
Mhin: Not ever attempting to fuck with you, and expects the same treatment in return. That stick up their ass is shoved pretty far in, so you're going to need to get pretty close to them before you can start playing around and making jokes. Attempts to fuck with them will likely be met with deadpan stares, unimpressed frowns, disappointed mouth-noises, and/or insults.
Kuras: Not above fucking with you, but always in good humor, and will immediately tell you afterwards when he's joking. A classic "lol jk jk" girlie. I feel like Ais has probably had a bit of a bad influence on him, as he was less likely to fuck with people in the past for no reason (LESS likely, not UNlikely). But he likes to see how people react!
Ais: Loves fucking with you, but mostly in good humor. He will definitely let you walk around thinking something is true and then when you say it he'll be like, "That's not true. Who told you that?" like it wasn't him. The type of person whose kids will believe that Santa is real until like high school because he loves keeping up a bit. Will this put you in danger at some point? It's likely, but that's not necessarily his intention. Will you have a lot of inside jokes? Absolutely.
Vere: Needs to fuck with you to keep things interesting so he's going to do it all the time, often to your detriment. Light gaslighting, but nothing you can't see through with a little squinting. Part of the reason Vere has to mess with people is also because he refuses to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known. His legitimate desire and enjoyment combined with his crippling disquiet over true intimacy combine into his specialty "you're not safe around me" cocktail.
Leander: Outwardly at Kuras-levels of fucking with you, but never judge a book by its cover. This guy is literally turning down the lights in your room right now and when you ask him about it he's going to say, "I don't think anything looks any different, lovely." -- that's how much of a bonafide gaslighter he is. He's like... a nice gaslighter, though. His purpose is not to make you feel like shit. He wants you to like him and trust him, while also driving you away from other people, and making you second-guess your decisions and your reality.
#touchstarved game#touchstarved vn#mhin#kuras#ais#vere#leander#touchstarved hcs#not really tho this is like. just in the game#i just wanted to write it out#except for the thing about leander...that's not confirmed (yet)#luckyfiction
110 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey pretty do you still take requests? If you do please write something about Lewis Hamilton x Fem Reader and their relationship is like that one video of rihanna and asap where rhi is looking lusty at asap. Lmao I'm bad at explaining I'm sorry, anything will do tbh i trust you. 🥰
Those sinful eyes - Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader
ᝰ.ᐟ A/N: Oh i just know what you mean lol. All the requests in my account got deleted and this is recent so if you are one of those peeps who sent me a requests back then you are free to send it again, I'm very sorry for the long take. 💋
ᯓ★ One of the things you can use against lewis is your eyes. They have a big impact on him it can be staring up at him or staring down at him.
"Don't move so much babe, I'm trying to do your hair." You giggled as you place your feet behind your ass resting it on his knees to comfortably sit on his lap while he wiggled like a child, "I'm sorry missus." as his eyes traveled from your lips to your eyes.
"fuck.." he muttered looking at you breathlessly, "What you have a staring problem now?" you joked as your fingers made their way into his curls before carefully tugging a piece as you continued your work with braiding his hair since the fronts are the only thing that was left untouched.
"You are so beautiful and beautiful and beautiful." Lewis blabbed looking back at your left to right eyes as if he is watching a tug rope competition fighting over which side is he gonna look at with how close you are.
The biggest hate love he has on the way he folds quickly just by the eye contact. The intimate eye contact and smile does something to him that will make him want to go on convulsion.
George once pointed it out on him which became a whole joke on the grid.
"The family guy is here again." Max said as lewis approach the drivers who just sat down and talk after the practice race, "What do you mean, we don't have a kid yet?" lewis cluelessly said as he sat down between all of them.
"With how whipped you look at her oh you will be soon" George marked spreading his arms on the back of the chair to welcome lewis more to share a detail about both of yours relationship. "Have you seen how his girl look at her? If she looked at me that way i would even faint, lewis is just a humble guy." Lando pointed out to side lewis and to give him a concrete reason on why lewis acted like that when you look at him.
"I mean have you seen lewis? I would look at him that way too" max stated before sipping his redbull.
ᯓ★ Get dressed, get your nails done, buy all your make up, own him up.
Another weakness of his is seeing you all ready and pretty for somewhere you guys are going for a date or whenever you go to the paddock.
"Hey guys i wasn't informed we are all meeting in here." Lewis entered as the laughter and talking went down to silence, "What's that on your face?" Lando was the first one to speak up which broke the silence.
"What what??" Lewis asked as he rose his phone up using it as a mirror to look at himself
"That kiss mark.."
"Oh it's from my missus." Lewis answered confidently before sitting down as a big smile still plastered on his face like a kid who's proud of his medal, "Yeah of course.." George bitterly said rolling his eyes and smacking his lips.
"Wow the missus really wifed you up."
That's one of his title that he is very proud of, hell have you guys checked on lewis when both of you first talked? He is very proud of it bragging it to everyone as if he won the most luckiest man alive. What worse when you said yes to his proposal of being your boyfriend who will definitely be your husband soon.
One of his dream is making a family with you, finally hearing his surname beside your name.
"Hello Mrs. Hamilton you look beautiful in that dress." Lewis addressed walking at your back feeling his palms on your back like he is sculpturing like those statues in museum, "Thank you Mr. Hamilton, you look handsome as ever.." You complimented back placing your hand on his face caressing his jaw and cheeks, holding up an eye contact on him with pure admiration.
"Of course i do, you are the one who picked my outfit" he commented and yes he lets you pick on what he wears. There are times where both of you wear a matchy outfit or just a same color shirt just so people can't tell you both apart. "Did you like it?"
"Oh i love it Mrs. Hamilton, look how good we look besides each other" He kept the nickname before looking at both of you in the mirror holding your waist like the mirror will take a picture any time moment. "I think something is missing hmm.." he said looking at you.
"What do you mean, you look really good." You muttered looking back at him, "My kiss.." he pouted as you smack his chest feeling a sigh of relief. "Darling you scared me" you giggled before grabbing his face with one hand and placing a kiss on his cheek.
Looking at the pigment that rests on his face is like looking at the painting of work from the history. The memories and moments of how many times you have did this, it's like reminding everyone that you own him, The seventh time world champion who makes everyone know that he can't function without feeling the affection you give to him by the daily basis.
"How i love looking at that on my face everyday, God knows you will walk down the aisle as a scene and confirmation to everyone that i am gifted with a gorgeous wife like you."
#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x fem!reader#formula one#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
emergency contact — bakugo katsuki
quirk: super sonic/speed; hero name: sonic
disclaimer: using the established hero identity from my bakugo fic on wattpad lol
contents: second chance, pro heroes in their twenties
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
her whole body hurt, that was the first thing she realized when she started gaining consciousness. her eyelids felt heavy, but she willed them to open, only for her to wince and close them back immediately as a harsh light hit her eyes.
it took her a moment. she took a breath. there was a soft beeping in the background. where was she? slowly, she fluttered her eyes open again, squinting until she got used to the light. she looked around, taking in the white walls and the IV drip stand next to her.
hospital. oh.
what had happened again? she remembered the villain attack in musutafu — she’d been called in, and kirishima, mina and todorki had been at the scene, too. the villain was preaching about the downfall of heroes as usual. she didn’t remember much of the fight, except getting hit really badly in the back of the head at some point.
with her left arm, she reached up and touched the side of her head, feeling the bandages.
she sighed and let her arm fall back down next to her. she looked to the side, noticing the red button that would call the nurse. this wasn’t the first time she’d been in a hospital bed like that and it wouldn’t be the last. she knew the drill by now — she pressed the button and waited.
a nurse walked in soon after, a smile on her face. y/n recognized her from the last few times she’s been here. “oh, glad to see you’re awake, sonic! how are you feeling?”
“mostly fine,” y/n answered. “how bad was the damage this time?”
“concussion, a broken leg due to debris falling over it. some scratches and bruises, but that’s about it,” the nurse read off of her clipboard. “everything was already taken care of and healed. we should be able to discharge you by the end of the day, but you should take it easy when you get home.”
y/n nodded. “that’s good. thank you.”
the nurse nodded before she wrote something on her clipboard. “are you feeling okay for visitors?”
y/n furrowed her eyebrows at that. “visitors?” who could it be? maybe kirishima or mina decided to visit. how did they get out of the fight, anyway? and how did y/n pass out? so embarrassing!
“well, mr. dynamight—“
“mr. who?”
no. this couldn’t be. why would he be here?
“mr. dynamight. bakugo katsuki?” the nurse scratched her head. “i thought you two were friends. or at least classmates back in ua.”
friends. yeah, no. “we were. don’t let him in.”
the nurse nodded and reached for the door. “all right. i’ll let him know.”
y/n sighed and looked back up at the white ceiling. seriously, why the hell was he here? how did he know she’d gotten hurt? okay, maybe he’d heard it from kirishima or seen it on the news, but still! how did he know which hospital she was at?
“tch, she’s still tired and doesn’t know what she’s talkin’ about.” y/n’s blood ran cold at the familiar voice coming from beyond the door. “i’m going in.”
“mr. dynamight, sir—“
the nurse couldn’t stop him. the door opened and in walked bakugo katsuki, still dressed in his hero costume, bar his mask and gauntlets.
the nurse immediately looked at y/n. “i’m sorry, miss sonic, i—“
“it’s okay.” it wasn’t the nurse’s fault. it was bakugo’s annoying stubbornness, as usual.
the nurse apologized again, then excused herself and left. bakugo moved silently from the door to the left of her bed, his arms crossed in from of his chest. “how are ya—“
“the fuck are you doing here, bakugo?”
bakugo’s lips shut in an instant. he looked to the IV drip in her arm, then to her heartbeat monitor — it was beeping a bit quicker now — then back to her. “the hospital called. told me you were injured.”
y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. “the hospital called you? why the hell would they? are you stalking me or something?”
bakugo grunted. “tch, speedy, you didn’t change your shitty emergency contact. you set it to me years ago, remember?”
right. “oh.”
“yeah.”
y/n looked away from him and out through the window. her view was obscured by a tree, but it was better than looking at bakugo at the moment. “why did you come, then?”
there was a sound of metal scraping on the ground. startled, y/n looked back and noticed bakugo pulling up a chair to sit next to her. it looked small under him. it was funny, but she didn’t laugh.”
“‘cuz they called me and told me you were injured.” bakugo said as he leaned on his knees. “and i saw the news. i was worried.”
y/n sighed. “bakugo, we—“
“stop calling me bakugo. you know i hate it when you call me by my last name.”
“bakugo.” she gave him a stern look. “we broke up three months ago.”
bakugo was silent. to this day, even after having calmed down, it was still weird to see bakugo this silent. “i know.”
“then you can’t expect me to act fucking normal and call you by your first name just because you decided to come to the hospital because you were worried about your ex.”
“i fuckin’ know.” bakugo groaned, running a hand through his hair.
they sat in silence for a moment and y/n’s unfocused eyes watched him as he looked at the ground. they dated for five years before they broke up. from their first year at ua, up until a few months ago. it was understandable bakugo was acting like that, really.
“do you ever think we made a mistake?”
y/n’s eyes focused and his face became clearer out of shock. she opened her mouth to answer than, no, she didn’t think so, but closed it. after thinking for a moment, she nodded. “at least once a day.”
their break up hadn’t really been spontaneous. it was building up the busier they got, and at the end, they reached the mutual decision to part ways. they were stubborn, both of them fighting for the top spots in the hero rankings, so much so that they forgot about each other. it made sense, back then.
but now, as y/n returned to the same home she’d shared with bakugo every night to a now cold, empty apartment, she was starting to think how being a top hero was just so lonely.
bakugo nodded at her answer. “yeah. me too.”
y/n moved to sit up, wincing a little as she did. despite the healing, he ribs were still sore. bakugo instinctively moved, one hand going behind her back to help her up. “careful, speedy.”
“i’m fine. they’re discharging me later, anyway,” y/n explained.
bakugo nodded, his hand lingering on her back for a moment too long before he retracted it and sat back on his chair. he ran a gloved hand through his hair. “you know, i really fuckin’ miss you, speedy.”
her heart monitor beeped faster at the words and she felt her face warm up in embarrassment. bakugo had just heard how flustered he made her — there was no backing out now.
still, she didn’t look at him. she looked at her fingers that were playing with each other. “yeah, i miss you, too, katsuki.”
bakugo’s hand reached out, catching one of hers in his. she looked back at him again, at his soft, pleading face. “can we try again? we’ve been through so much shit together and, honestly, before we broke up, i never imagined my life without you in it. but now that i actually experienced it, i realized just how shitty it is. being a hero is so fucking boring if you’re not there to run by work just to tell me a dumb joke, or to sit on the couch and watch the news and make fun of shitty hair and raccoon eyes, or bantering over who’s going to be higher in the next hero chart, or—“
she’d heard enough. leaning in, she pressed her lips on his, her hands grabbing the sides of his face. the IV drip in her arm felt uncomfortable, but she ignored it best she could as she savored bakugo’s lips, the ones she’s been missing for so long.
bakugo moved his hand to the back of her head, the other one on her back. he didn’t really pull her too close because he was scared she would fall off the bed, but he didn’t mind. the fact that she was kissing him was enough.
they pulled away not too long after — it didn’t matter that the kiss was short, there was so many more to come — and y/n smiled as she looked into his red eyes. her right thumb stroked his cheek ever so slightly. “you know, i’m higher in the rankings than you this month. i’m twenty-fourth and you’re twenty-sixth.”
bakugo chuckled, his smile unwavering. “shut up, i saw. i wanted to call you and rant to you about it. that’s only ‘cuz i had to take a week-long break after i got injured.”
y/n waved him off. “excuses, excuses. just admit i’m strong.”
“never denied it, speedy.”
y/n felt warm again. it felt so right, being with bakugo and talking with him like that. she hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed it.
“i don’t know if this is sudden, but are you going to move back in now, or are you gonna wait and see how this goes? not that i’m pressuring you or anything, i just—“
bakugo interrupted her with a peck, sealing her lips shut. when he pulled back, he gave her a nod. “i’ll move back today if i can. i’ll call shitty hair to help me with my shit. hell, i missed the bed.”
#bnha#my hero academia#my hero academy fanfiction#bakugo#bakugo katsuki#bakugo katsuki x reader#mha#bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugo fanfiction#oneshot#fanfiction#x reader#bnha fanfiction#second chance#romance#fluff#bakugo fluff#katsuki#dynamight#lord explosion murder god dynamight
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 2 of 3)
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader
Covet Summary:
Life was good. No, life was great.
Was.
Until.
Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.
You welcomed him into your life—your home.
Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in.
Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.
At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.
Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; EMDR (VIVID intro to revisiting traumatic situations); crying + feelings of sadness; heart issues (POTs); use of heart monitors; dangerously high heart rate; implied abusive situations; derogatory verbiage from past abuser; implied drug use; very unsanitary living conditions; visits to safe place; usage of containment strategy * * * revisited, vivid memories of sexual encounters; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones (+ continuing to act on them ;)); reader and jake continue to be STUBBORN; cheating; heavy petting; forgetfulness (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)
Chapter 11 (Part 2) Word Count: 23.9k+
a/n: i broke my promise, i know. :( i feel absolutely fucking terrible that i made you all wait, but life happens. :'( i wish this story was my main priority/job, but alas...that dream is not a reality. i need you all to know: when i say i'm going to do something, i fully intend on it, but...life (and crippling adhd + anxiety).
i am so incredibly sorry, my lovely readers. :(
also, life update to blame (only if you care to read). BUT, on top of trying to get my house completely cleaned/shit thrown away, i officially had to empty out my classroom (see also: due to toxic work enviro, i had to leave the career i've wanted to live out since i was six y/o). so, i'm currently in the process of completely shifting careers (going from one emotionally taxing career to another, but that is apparently the type of job my heart desires lol).
as always, big thank you to @joshym for being the best sister there ever was and supporting me in my writings + pursuits <3 i love you to the ends of the earth, lis. you're my person. <3
Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤 (fr, i listen to it nonstop when i write this.... all of the songs are pertinent to the story and aid in telling it - either already or eventually.)
Covet Masterlist
-🌼🌼🌼-
"I covet truth; beauty is unripe childhood's cheat; I leave it behind with the games of youth."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
-🌼🌼🌼-
Monday
December 12, 2022
“So, any news on the baby since I last saw you?” Gia started, a sure smile on her face that helped ease you. “You had your second appointment on Thursday, right?”
“No,” you shook your head. “Dr. Rose wanted to just wait until closer to Week 18 so we could find out the gender at one session rather than having to wait between week 16 and week 18. Knock everything out at once,” you explained, clearing your throat. Looking around the office, you admired the pieces of floral art littering the walls, as you always did. “We’re going this Friday now.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Gia asked, raising a brow. She was rolling to her desk, getting the (seemingly) last thing she needed for your session today and placing it in her lap. “Not stressed about putting it off?”
“No, actually. I’m not stressed at all,” you acknowledged, sticking your lip out in thought. You hadn’t even thought to be stressed yet. Progress? Sure seemed like it. “It’s strange; the longer time passes, the bigger I get. . . The worries just aren’t as prevalent. It’s like I can feel that the baby is okay.”
“Not strange at all, babe,” Gia reassured with a shake of her head. Her platinum blonde hair was wavy today, framing her angular face perfectly. “Completely normal for new mothers to sort of get used to the pregnancy enough to feel at peace, per se. And I am so proud of you for getting to that point.”
“Well thanks,” you grinned crookedly, trying your best to settle into the worn, camel-colored leather of her sofa. “Can’t say the same for today’s session though. . . I am nervous about it.”
Gia waved it away, showing you a look of ease on her stark features. “No need. You’re the one in control, girly,” she winked, placing both white-sneakered feet on the ground.
She reached in her desk drawer for the little pouch, the familiar one that you knew held the device you’d be using today. A sudden wave of nerves began to crash over you as she unzipped it, revealing it and the paddles that would be the catalyst in placing your brain. . .elsewhere— somewhere.
Somewhere bad? Good? In-between?
“Here’s the plan,” she started, wheeling her chair closer to the couch, where you were trying your damnedest to sit comfortably. “We’ll start with your safe place to give you some sense of peace and stability — gotta make sure it’s still fresh and open in your mind.”
You watched as she turned the knob of the device, the little green light beginning to blink to notate that it’s on. “Then,” she continued, situating the device to look it over before her green eyes settled back on you. “Once you feel comfortable, I’ll tell you to begin walking away. Whatever direction you’d like to go, it’s completely up to you.”
Gia held the paddles out in front of you, and with clammy, shaky palms, you tentatively took hold of them. One in each hand, just like last time.
You couldn’t stop worrying about where you’d end up, where you’d walk away to. Walking away from your beautiful field, from Jake. . . What if you couldn’t do it?
“Will I. . .,” you cleared your throat, nervous. “If where I go is too hard, do I just—,” you panicked, unable to properly finish your sentence due to an onslaught of nerves. “What will I do?”
You were fumbling with your words and clarity, before she interjected, knowing just where your mind was going. “I’ll simply tell you to walk back to your safe place. I’ll be talking you through it, I’ll be right here the whole time — just gotta keep your ears open for me,” she winked, clicking open her iPad and testing her Apple pencil on the screen, readying to take notes.
“And, if at any point I see your body language change to indicate any distress, I’ll guide you back to your safe place, okay?” She soothingly told you the words, her full pink lips widening to a sweet smile, clicking her pencil into its spot at the top of her iPad case. “Remember, my specialized area is EMDR. I’ve done it multiple times before this – successfully. I plan to complete this successfully with you, too, y/n.”
When you gave her a small, timid smile, she took that as an indicator to continue on with her little speech. The tiny faux grin on your otherwise concerned face was the most emotion you could muster in that moment.
“It will hurt from time to time. I can’t take that away. It will be harder than most other things you’ve ever had to do.” She paused, her own brows curving to show care for your rigid state. Gia reached forward to unwrap your hands from the paddles gently. Once she had a hold on your hands, she rubbed the backs of them reassuringly, her thumbs so soft with their intricate patterns. You looked down to study the patterns, working to focus on something else and rid yourself of the nerves.
“Y/n.” She stated your name, making you look up at her. Her seafoam-colored eyes grabbed yours. “Before we begin. . . I want to make sure – once more – that you are sure about this . . . that you want to continue. We’ve talked about it a lot, but I want you to be sure. There are other routes of therapy. . .”
“No,” you replied, completely sure of your decision. “No. I want to do this. I promise I haven’t changed my mind. I don’t want to change my mind,” you rushed out, desperate for her to understand you. “I’m just–just scared. Is that not okay?”
You didn’t mean to sound defensive, but your biting tone contradicted that. The nerves were wracking you, from the inside out.
Luckily, Gia seemed unphased, keeping with her featherlight touch to the backs of your hands. “It absolutely is okay to be scared,” she confirmed, tone firm and soft all at once. “But, I need you to keep in mind: you are in charge this time. You have the power. We will approach these places in the now – you are in the driver’s seat of conquering these past battles. We’re in this together, love – and we will make it out stronger and better than before we started.”
Her voice assured you, of course. But the fear was still ever-present.
Sure, you did have control. But what if you couldn’t control where you went?
Where would you go? That was what scared you most. Your mind was bound to let loose. It was one telling part of this sort of therapy. You didn’t really know what had been hiding deep in the drawers of the credenza in your mind. . .
Hence you being here.
You just knew, whatever it was lying beneath the surface — you knew it was. . . a lot.
Then, as if she could hear the additional fearful thoughts swimming in your brain, she grasped your hands tighter in hers, moving to rub her thumbs over the tops of your knuckles. “You’ll be just fine. We’ve got a solid plan, babe. I just need you to trust me, and I need you to trust yourself. If you need to walk away, tell me and we’ll do it. That is in our power – your power.” Her pristinely white, pearly teeth were on display as she looked deep into your worried eyes. “We can do this, okay?”
We. I’m not alone.
You’d never had a single doubt about Gia. Of course you trusted her. But. . .maybe the true problem was trusting yourself. . . Over the past several months, you were finding that to be a bit more difficult.
But, Gia was right. You had to put some trust in yourself to know when you needed to step away. You could do it. You had to.
And knowing that she had a plan and had done it so many times before. . . Those were relieving thoughts, to say the very least. She knew what she was doing, and she knew what was best for you.
I can do this, you recited to yourself. I can. . .
You sighed, out of both relief and persistent worry. “I trust you,” you told her, another somewhat forced smile following your words. “And I’ll learn to trust myself. . . I’ll try my best,” you grinned sheepishly. “We’ve got this.”
“Good deal,” she responded with a far more sincere smile than you could offer. “There’s just one more thing we need to do before we get started.”
She clicked her iPad closed, wheeling back toward her desk, reaching down in the same drawer she pulled the device from. Only this time, she pulled out a large legal style, white notepad, and a large box of Crayola markers. Lastly, she grabbed a flawlessly sharpened pencil from the ceramic baby blue jar, covered in white roses, next to her keyboard.
What could she be up to? You wondered, eyebrows drawn together.
“I need you to describe something for me, something visual to lock any horrible memory away in.” She took a sip of her tea, which sat atop her desk, before she stood up from her chair. She came to sit directly next to you on her couch. The smell of eucalyptus that swirled off of her, from her perfume, was soothing. “You need to give it lots of detail, make it unique. I’ll even draw it for you,” she held up the notepad, pointing to it with a gentle smile. “Seeing it visually will help you when it’s time to lock the memories away mentally. Some people want a box, a filing cabinet, a treasure chest,” she laughed, and you giggled at that one, too. Jake would love that one. Buried treasure, like his pirate documentaries. . . “Whatever you want. You just tell me exactly what you want it to look like.”
Something about this felt a little silly, but you understood the purpose for it. Just having a place to put the memories after you visited them, it felt like closure. A special sort of closure at the end of every session, just like your safe place felt like closure. . .
And then, you knew what you wanted it to look like. Saw the image, clear as day, in your mind. It felt significant to you, it felt right. There was no question.
But, you had a thought.
“Would–would it be okay if I drew it?” You questioned carefully.
She eagerly handed you the notepad, markers and pen with a huge smile. “Absolutely. That’s called trusting yourself big time, girly. This box is a special one!” Her voice was wet as she sniffled. “I’m not supposed to get so emotional with my clients, but I’m proud of you. You’re making great strides and we’ve barely started.”
“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a bit encouraged, your own throat tight as you reviewed her once more with a glance.
Then, sticking the tip of your tongue out from the corner of your mouth, you looked down at the paper, and began.
A small, wooden box was all you could see in your mind. So, you drew it out, as best you could, given your lack of artistic abilities.
One side, then the other, the bottom, the top. . .
Before you knew it, you had a perfect, rectangular box on the stripped notebook paper. Then, it was time for the important part: the details.
There was only one element that felt right — felt safe — to decorate the box with.
Scouring through the markers, you found two perfect shades of purple at the bottom — two very different shades, to add depth. You weren’t an artist, really, but you could pretend for the box’s sake.
Then, you searched for the greenest green you could find. One more marker in a shade of dark brown, and you were ready to draw the box exactly as you saw it in your mind.
You began drawing tiny individual stalks of lavender on top of the box. You filled in their blooms with the purples, drawing their stems underneath with the green. Their placement may have seemed scattered across the top, but you kept going. To you, it made sense. And that was all that mattered.
One bloom in the top left corner, one diagonal from it in the bottom right corner. Then, there was one on the bottom left going straight up and down, with a slight curve to the stem. . . And one more, laying on its side directly in the middle. . .
It was perfect. Just as you’d imagined.
You filled in the blank spaces with the brown marker, immulating the antiqued, stained mahogany wood you were envisioning.
And once you filled it all in, your vision had come to life right before your own eyes. It was the ideal picture of what you saw, and despite the fact that you were no artist, it was beautiful. You loved it. Looking at it forced emotions you weren’t expecting, so many big emotions that begged to be surfaced.
And for whatever reason, looking at it made you think of the baby. This beautiful, hand drawn box held a strange connection to the life you and Jake had created, though you couldn’t explain how. . .
But, you felt it. You felt it so strongly.
“Lavender means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Gia asked you, smiling and wiping away a stray tear that sat on top of her highlighted cheekbone. “It’s very lovely, y/n. And I’m so glad that you drew it.”
You contemplated her question about lavender. You’d never considered just how prevalent it was in all of your happy places. . . But, it was. It meant so much. . .
Who knew that such a simple plant could bring you so much comfort? So much peace?
A tear came to your eye at the thought of how special the plant had become to you. . . It was really no secret why it’d become special.
Gia leaned over, giving you a small side hug, but didn’t linger before making her way back to her chair. She sat at the edge of it, elbows placed on both knees as she clasped her hands at the front.
“How are we feeling?” She asked, sniffling once more as she looked you directly in the eyes. “A little better now that we have our box?”
“Yes,” you nodded, wiping under your eye to rid yourself of any tears. “The box idea is genius.”
“The technical term is containment. Again, it’s simply where the client creates a space to store the distressing memories. I want to emphasize that the memories aren’t coming back to control you, rather you’re the one controlling them. And, the box’s containment of the unpleasant memories gives you a little extra control over these memories and the emotions attached to them. They’re yours to deal with,” she explained softly. “You done with the notebook and pens?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded eagerly, handing the materials back to her. You went over her words in your head, extra control. . . the idea of that sounded wonderful to you. Those words aided in lifting a decent amount of weight from your nervous body.
She took the materials from you, and as she did so, you decided to take the paddles in your hands once more, feeling much more confident.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, rolling back in her tufted chair to put the markers and pencils back on the desk. “I definitely can’t take credit for the idea of containing those horrendous memories in a certain area. . . but it has proven wonderfully effective for every client I’ve practiced this form of therapy with,” she explained further, coming back to sit in front of you, wheeling smoothly back towards you. When she was about two feet away from you, she stopped and observed the picture of your box, the notepad still in her lap. “Do you have a clear idea of the box in your mind?”
“The clearest,” you affirmed, no question in your mind of the precise placement of each piece of lavender. The exact color of mahogany that you’d depicted for the wood, sealed in your brain.
“Wonderful. Well, I’m going to hold it so I can get a good idea of it; just in case you need help finding it at any point,” she said, eyes scanning the page as she spoke. “I’d love to see this in real life – it’s gorgeous.”
“I think so, too,” you grinned, eyes twinkling. And, suddenly, your body felt light in a way that could only indicate one thing. . . you knew there was no time like the present. “I’m ready.”
Gia looked up at your words, her own eyes donning a spark as she tucked the notepad onto her lap. “If you’re ready, I’m ready,” she smiled kindly, her eyes trustworthy and open for opportunity. “First things first. Make yourself as comfortable as you need to. Sit, lay down. . . it’s up to you.”
You kept yourself upright on the couch, allowing yourself to sink back into its cushions a bit more. And for some reason, the thought of crossing your legs, criss-cross applesauce came to mind. So, you did just that, bringing your legs up to the couch and criss-crossing one over the other. You looked at your belly as you did. A timid grin crept along your lips at the thought of knowing you didn't have much longer until you’d no longer be able to do this.
Thank you, sweet baby.
With one deep breath in, you felt your stiff limbs loosen with the comfort of the new position you found yourself in. And with the exhale, you looked down at the paddles in your hands, holding them probably a bit too tight as you felt your nails digging into your clammy palms. Still yet, you kept your grip, somehow feeling a bit more secure that way.
“Nice and comfy?” Gia asked, her warm, knowing smile aiding in relaxing your body even more.
You looked down at your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the cool plastic of the paddles. You knew this was it, that this could begin to change a lot; it could change everything. The thought of change was a frightening one, but with this change would come a healing journey like you’d never known. For you, for the baby, for Jake, even. . .
“As I’ll ever be,” you confidently answered. You were ready to embark on this expedition of mending.
“Perfect,” she said, her voice soft, reassuring. “Close your eyes, take a few deep breaths. Let yourself relax.”
You did as she said, and with one breath in through your nose and blowing it slowly out of your mouth, you closed your eyes.
You felt your chest rise and fall with each breath. You began to breathe deeper and easier the longer your eyes were closed.
“Good job.” You heard her sweet voice, feeling comforted by the simple fact that you knew she was still with you. Though you could no longer see her, you felt her. And that was more than enough. “I’ll start the paddles off slowly, just like last time. Turning them on in 3, 2. . .”
Your body instinctively jolted at the light humming sensation you felt against your palms, your eyes closing a little tighter. But, you quickly remembered the feeling from last time and it didn’t take you very long to get used to it. You even found a little relief in the alternating vibrations. Their consistent rhythm worked to ease your mind. Your eyes, though still closed, instinctively followed in the back and forth motion of the pulsations in your palms.
“Does this speed feel okay?” You heard her ask, her voice suddenly becoming more distant as you let yourself focus on the steady thrumming of the paddles.
“Yes,” you whispered, the sound of your voice echoing as though you were in a long, narrow tunnel. “Feels good.”
“We’ll start with establishing your safe place, y/n. Go ahead and start walking to it. Lead the way.”
My safe place.
Suddenly, as though the mere mention of it had some sort of ability to transcend you there, you began feeling the familiar cool breeze against your face. Faint sounds of the birds singing in the forest of trees filled your ears, becoming a bit louder as you found your footing against the lightly dampened grass beneath your feet. “The birds,” you felt yourself say. “They’re singing, their chirps are becoming clearer now.”
“Wonderful.” Her voice was heard all around you, echoing against the wind. “Tell me what you see.”
Your eyes, still physically shut, began to open in your mind. They squinted at the bright, warm rays from the sun. And as you turned your face upwards toward the sky, you could feel the radiance of the rays against your skin.
And, as you peered a few feet ahead of you, you witnessed a beautiful family of deer were perusing the lush meadow.
“The sun. . . It’s so beautiful and bright, but it doesn’t hurt to look at it,” you shared with her, squinting towards it with no negative effect, shocked by the fact. “And the deer. So innocent and pure. They’re so near to me, but not scared of me at all.”
“You’re doing amazing, y/n. Keep going, tell me what you can touch, what you can smell.” Her voice carried throughout the trees like the wind, meshing beautifully with the songs of the birds.
Bending down, you ran your fingers through the dewy blades of grass. They felt cool, soft. Like a blanket of emerald velvet. “The grass. It’s soft, a little wet.”
And then, the smells. The fragrance of freshly rain coated grass, as though an evening shower had just finished nourishing the ground before you’d arrived. The rainfall, sustaining the life of the pasture, the jude green grasses, the illustrious amethyst plant surrounding you. . .
The divine aroma from your favored flower overwhelmed your senses in the most alluring way. The bloomed field, surrounding you, holding you carefully in its gentle grasp.
“The lavender,” you felt yourself say, eagerly. “I can smell it, so fresh and clean; the sense of calm it brings me. . .”
You then felt the paddles pick up in their speed, ever so slightly, but enough that you could tell.
“Oh yes, your lavender,” Gia hushed as she positively tracked with you.
My lavender.
Gently, you sat your body down in the midst of the flowers. And once you did, you felt the urge to place your hands against your tummy, to feel the baby, just like last time.
There you are, right where you belong, you thought when you felt the smooth bump beneath your hands.
You felt nearly complete, nearly, but you knew something was still missing—someone.
And just when you started to look beyond the stems of lavender to find him, there he was.
Clad in the very same navy blue, three piece suit you’d seen him in the first time. The rays from the sun bounced off of his chestnut locks, his tanned skin radiant and glowing.
With a soft, lopsided smile, he slowly walked toward you. The vision of him, walking amongst the stalks of lavender as they gently swayed from the light breeze against his calves. . . You felt yourself sigh with relief.
This was safe. This was home.
Once he approached you in what felt like no time at all, he laid down right beside you, extending one arm out for you to join him. And as you did, letting yourself at last melt into his warm embrace, you were finally there.
Your safest place.
“I’m here now,” you muttered, feeling yourself smile warmly as you did. “And I’m safe.”
“Enjoy it for a moment, let it sink in, put yourself at ease.” You heard Gia’s voice, but the more you focused on Jake, the more distant she became.
You found yourself gazing into his eyes, sparkling like golden gems, as he cradled you in the crook of his arm.
In his amber-brown eyes, you saw your haven, your sanctuary of serenity.
A gentle smile graced his lips as he reached up, tenderly brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. “It’s time to step away now, y/n,” he told you. Though, you knew it was truthfully Gia telling you, you heard Jake’s voice. You watched his lips move as he spoke, “You can do this. I’m right here.”
Again, you knew the words were coming from Gia. But, hearing them in his voice, as much as you didn’t want to leave him, it was the final push you needed.
It was time.
With only a bit of resistance, you sat up, slowly standing to your feet and urged yourself forward towards the unknown. When you looked back, you saw Jake standing gracefully amongst the fragrant blooms of your lavender.
Home, you thought. He looks like home.
With one final sigh, and with the most strength you were sure you’d ever mustered, you walked away from him.
Your hands found your belly for some extra courage as you stepped away, everything turning black for a moment once you got far enough. But, the further you went, a tiny, dim light caught your attention. It initially seemed like miles away, but with every step you took, it became worlds closer.
A lamp. You could finally see it. It was old, dusty. It was sitting atop a table, from what you could tell. . .
With one more step, the full picture started to come to you. You’d guessed right — it sat on top of a round, wooden table that only had one leg in the center, making it lean a little to the left. The white, canvas lampshade was stained so badly. . .
The stains were reminiscent of those that come from years of smoking cigarettes near it.
In fact, you were shocked that you could tell it had ever been white.
As the image became more clear, you saw a black ash tray next to the lamp, full of cigarette butts, all but confirming your cigarette theory. You could smell the smoke, too, as though someone had just finished one off. The stench was putrid, the chemically treated tobacco mixed disgustingly with the other trash laying on the table.
To the right, you saw a sofa. The blue cloth over the cushions, stained just like the lamp, was tattered and worn. It was full of holes. Tiny, black holes. Cigarette burns?
God, the smell was nearly becoming too much. It was so strong, potent. Cigarettes and filth. Utter filth. Filth that you suddenly began to remember being suffocated by as a child.
No wonder you liked things so pristinely clean. . .
The shag carpet beneath your feet felt like it had never been vacuumed after years of wear. It was littered with half empty beer cans, more cigarette butts, rat droppings. . .
God — the fucking smell. A triggering smell—one that had your stomach turning to the point that vomit rose in your throat.
The paddles sped up a bit more, much more noticeably this time as they forced your brain to grasp what you were experiencing.
“Tell me what you see, y/n. Tell me where you are.” It was no longer Jake’s voice that you were hearing, it was once again Gia’s. And though you missed the sound of his, you were so happy to hear her, reminding you that she was still there.
This was the past. Gia was the present. You were with Gia.
You stepped to the side, glancing around the room you were standing in, trying with all of your might to not allow the stench to make you sick.
“It’s—I’m in a living room, I think. . .?” You noticed a television set, one from the late nineties with a built-in VCR, sitting on top of a makeshift table made of three small slabs of particle board.
The more you looked around, you noticed there was only one average-sized window in the whole room, next to the white front door. The door was scuffed to hell and looked ready to give at any second. The blinds attached to the window were ripped to shreds, hardly hanging onto the frame.
“Y-yeah, it’s a living room. It’s. . .It was our living room. One of them, at least. I’m fully beginning to. . . To recognize it. . .”
You’d lived in so many homes as a child, seen many living rooms. But this one, this home and the walls surrounding you. . .this one was different. While most homes from your childhood didn’t leave you with happy memories, this one felt—evil. This had been a personal hell.
Anxiety, heavy sadness. . . this room was wrought with it.
And as you heard a certain laugh, deep and throaty, from the next room over, your stomach churned and your mind went fuzzy. That sound. It was vile and thick with too many years of smoking. That particular laugh was associated with ugliness and gut-wrenching fear.
The man that the laugh was attached to. . . This was his house. You remembered that now. There was no safety here. This place was only associated with feeling powerless, forgotten, and lonely.
The paddles wiggled in your hands, the vibrations reaching your worn nerves.
Elsie was here, though. Somewhere. You knew that.
And Elsie had helped in making it less lonely — just knowing she was in this past-tense moment filled you with ease. Your sister was here.
Though, you knew for past Elsie, she was still trapped. Even though she comforted this adult version of you that was invading. . . there was still no escape for little girl Elsie.
This place had been desolate, with no chance for escape. You’d been tied here by invisible rope.
Fuck. Where was your sister? You could feel her near, but she wasn’t in the living room with you. Your skin prickled at what she could be experiencing. . . You couldn’t fully wrap your brain around it.
But this was the past. Right now, you just needed to focus on your surroundings.
Living room. The living room.
Your mind was quickly skirting back to your present placement. And, rather than standing, you suddenly realized you were sitting on the ground. Strangely, your hands in the memory were free of the paddles, tucked safely in your lap, shaking. . . And not daring to touch the dirty, shaggy carpet.
For a split second, you wondered. . . Why were you not sitting on the couch or a chair? And why were you sitting in a place you felt you couldn’t move from? Was this how you’d been placed originally? In the past?
You observed the wobbly dinner table in front of you and realized it had zero chairs. And on a second glance around the room, you noticed something you hadn’t before. . . a sleeping form on the couch.
So, it seemed, with the occupied couch being the only other piece of furniture in the living room besides the table. . . the floor had been your only option.
You used the unconscious state of the room’s other occupant to your advantage and turned a bit to observe the person. The person’s face wasn’t visible and their body was covered in a blanket filled with holes and torn more than it wasn’t. But. . . You could see hair.
Blonde. Yellow-blonde. Box-dyed with the cheapest dye.
Long hair, ratty and knotted to the point of almost no fixing it. The way the strands shone a little bit under the dim lighting from the old, dusty lamp showed you it was very oily as well. . . It wasn’t a healthy shine.
The person on the couch, from what you could see, was far from healthy in any capacity. The body looked malnourished through the blanket’s holes. At closer inspection, you noticed an arm dangling off the sofa, peeking from the blanket.
The arm was littered in tiny holes and scars. . . from heroin injections, multiple cigarette burns. . . Then there was the red, irritated acne that littered the pale skin, between the various marks.
Poor thing. What a dreaded way to live life. . . Your heart broke in your chest and tears sprung to your tired eyes as your hand clutched at your tummy.
You could do that in the memory. You were you in the present, yet placed like you’d been in the past. . . so weird.
All you knew was you had a sense to protect the untouched life in your womb. The feeling of being a protector to your child was unparalleled to anything in this moment. . . You would never let the little life inside of you bear witness to anything like you had as a child. . .
Like your current situation.
Or, past situation, rather. . . This was not real. Not in the present. This was controlled — controllable.
The paddles jolted in your real hands, helping you to center you.
“Y/n,” Gia’s voice broke through your psyche, touching your brain delicately. You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of her soft spoken tone. “Can you hear me, girly?”
You nodded, but weren’t sure if she could see it or if the action was only visible in your dreamlike stupor. This was so weird. . .
So, you decided to respond the best you could with words. “Y—yeah,” you stuttered out, blinking rapidly as you tried (and failed) to keep tears at bay. “This is. . . So familiar, yet so forgotten. . .,” your voice faded out.
Your eyes in the memory were now pinched shut, trying to keep the laughter you could still hear from the kitchen (because, yes, you somehow knew exactly where it was coming from) far away.
But it just seemed to be getting closer. . .
“Tell me where you are, y/n,” Gia requested, soothing, yet strong. “Take me with you. You are going to be okay.”
“I—I can’t—,” gasping, you shook your head.
Willing the menacing, thick chuckle to fade, you squinted your eyes open slowly, tried to refocus on the living room to tell Gia what you could. Your hands still held your belly, but your thighs came closer to your chest. You wanted to scrunch up and stay in your bubble.
“Y/n.”
Your blood ran cold and your skin prickled harshly with goosebumps. Fear. Terror. Dread.
The voice wasn’t Gia’s. It wasn’t Jake’s. No. It was coming from behind you. The person on the couch. The worn down, baby blue fabric couch. The navy blue patterns of it, a distant memory, washing back quickly like a flood. . .
This was definitely a memory. A real thing that had happened in the past. This had happened before. It was deeply repressed.
A dark memory. Bad. So, so bad.
You felt dirty for more reasons than one now. . .
Looking down, you noticed your outfit had changed. Though you still looked as you currently did in 2022, you were wearing an outfit you had as a child. The attire made your skin crawl.
This pajama set, you were made to wear it more often than not.
A tiny, satin set. Too small for you to properly fit into. How old were you? Nine? Ten? Was this right before you went to live with. . .?
“Pig.”
No. Not that nickname. No no no.
You hadn’t heard that since your mother had called you–.
The person on the couch.
“Piggy.”
Did you have it in yourself to face her? Could you? What would happen if you didn’t? No. No.
You had to. The baby, safe in your belly. . . that baby needed a mom who could face her demons and not fall to them.
. . .Fall to them like the shell of a woman, on the couch behind you, had fallen to hers.
You felt crippled with fear, but brave beyond comparison all at once. . .
The steady tremors from the paddles in your hands were the best help you could’ve had in the moment, reminding you of your power. . .
And, once you’d given yourself the strength to swivel your body to meet her eyes. . . there she was.
A woman whose face had become a shadow since she’d left you. The moment she’d left you. . .a mess of snot and tears, head throbbing as it laid on Elsie’s shoulder, desperate to understand a mother that had never seemed to love you.
Your eyes were her eyes. Thankfully, that was about where the similarities in your features stopped.
She was paler than you. Her lips, thin and cracked from lack of hydration where yours were full. Her cheekbones were sharp and protruded more than they should. . . Your cheekbones, defined, yet concealed under soft skin you took very good care of . . .
And her face. . . It also lacked freckles. You had the tiniest spatter of light freckles that sat at the tops of your cheeks. Your freckles, mimicking angel kisses, which stayed mostly hidden save for the summertime when they’d make an appearance after exposure from the sun. Her skin was washed out, lacking color. It was as if she hadn’t even been exposed to the sun for a long, long time. . .
Perhaps you might’ve looked more like her than you could tell at this moment. But, right now, all you saw was a sunken face, holding more wrinkles and lines than a woman her age should hone. And, her eyes, even if they looked like yours initially, were glassy and hollow from too many drugs. . .
Right now, they held uncertainty and a rage that was becoming more and more apparent the longer you looked into her eyes. . .
She looked lost. . . Confused, yet furious.
The fury, pointed towards you.
“Get. Up,” your mother ordered, voice cracking a bit, spit flying past her chapped lips. The tone of her voice. . . it made your heart jump into your throat. “Do your job, Pig.”
Before you could respond, you felt heavy footsteps make their way into the living room, shaking the weak structure of the small home that seemed to be falling apart around you.
“Move, you lazy drug slut,” a booming voice growled. You knew it was aimed towards your mother. “Give little Piggy some space to sit next to Mr. Morgan, hm?”
Mr. Morgan.
The paddles buzzed in your hands, re-centering you.
You didn’t dare look at the man who’d entered the room behind you, knowing it was the same man attached to the laughter from the kitchen.
So, it was only out of your peripheral vision when you noticed him round to the other side of you, getting close to your mom. The next thing you saw, faded from the corner of your eye, were fat, sausage-like fingers reaching to yank the thin blanket off your mother. The unmasked view of her figure broke your heart further, her body shaking, bones on full display through her papery skin, begging for a fix. . .
It didn’t take long for those same fingers to forcefully clutch her shoulder and yank her up. You could’ve sworn you heard the bones in her shoulder crack, but she barely let out a yelp. It was more of a tired groan, eyes closed and eyebrows drawn in with irritation towards being disturbed.
But, she shook more. . . Her bones, most likely rattling under her skin. And this time, you knew it was more from nerves and terror, than lack of drugs. She was just trying to play tough.
Mr. Morgan (the name, making bile rise in your throat) came to sit at the end of the couch, but your eyes once again drew shut and your body became rigid. Even if you were facing the couch, you still only kept your body towards your mother’s. She wasn’t safe, by any means. But she wasn’t Mr. Morgan.
You couldn’t look at him. The vile smell of him alone, sweat and grime from lack of showering. . . You were going to hurl on the spot. The way the nausea quickly began to rise in the hollow of your throat, you knew there was no time to get out now. . . Your heartbeat was thrumming so vigorously in your chest, you felt like you were going to choke on its strength.
Then the ugly, bitter laughter was back again. . . Right in front of you this time, your mother moaning next to him. . .
A distant beeping in the background. . . what? Where was that coming–?
The intensity of the paddles increased, the vibrations working to balance you amidst the fear.
“Open your eyes, Pig,” Mr. Morgan grunted, reprimanding you. His voice was stark and loud against the decaying walls of the living room. You winced with what you imagined to come, your heart accelerating and your blood running colder than cold. “Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes, my little whor–.”
The paddles were working so hard to bring you back, but you couldn’t–.
“Y/n.” Gia’s voice rang out through the disgusting home, flowing into your ears, reassuring you. “It’s time to leave, y/n. Find your safe place.”
You didn’t have to be told twice, not with the tears streaming down your face and the way your breath was stuck in your lungs. Your chest stung from the way your heart rate wouldn’t let up. . . the way your heart raced, unrelenting and beating harder every time. . . . The pain was excruciating, making you want to keel over from the intensity.
There wasn’t a memory of leaving the room, you just knew you had left as you ran.
You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, eyes still shut to avoid being used by him–Mr. Morgan. God. You hated that man. You hated your mother.
But, you weren’t with them anymore. The rotting smell of the home and the body odor that reeked from the two people in your vision – it was all gone. You were out. So, you decided to open your eyes. You had to open them to find the place you’d created for a time just like this. . .
Your place. Your home. The field of lavender. Jake. Peaceful serenity, awaiting you amongst the birds chirping and the light blue skies. . .
So, with eyes open and tears streaming down your cheeks, you decided you needed to be there now. Now now now now. . .
And before you could request it any further, your feet were touching the lush grass and the skies were clear and powdery blue above you. . .
“Are you safe, y/n?” Gia asked, her voice much clearer when you were in the field, surrounded by nature. Your sanctuary.
“Yes,” you breathed, voice cracking just a little on the word. You hadn’t spoken for a while. . . Too scared to do so. Clearing your throat, you tried once more. “Yes. Yes, I’m safe. I’m in my safe place. The lavender. The beautiful, tall trees filled with green leaves. The breeze is perfectly warm against my face. . .”
“Wonderful,” Gia said, sounding relieved and stoic all at once. “You are okay, girly. You are okay. It’s not your current reality. It’s not right now. This is right now. You are safe.”
Yes. I’m safe.
Your breathing was coming much easier and your heart wasn’t pounding in your ears any longer.
Your hands found your belly, the sweetest little round bump. But where was. . .?
Then, you felt him. Jake.
Solid and sure behind you, his chest meeting your back. His arms, coming to wrap around you, cradling you and the belly that held his baby. Your head, falling of its own accord to lay back on his shoulder. . .
You were finally able to relax. Let go. The tears poured from your eyes, wetting your cheeks with steady tracks.
“Shhh,” Jake shushed you, the minty smell of his toothpaste lingering on his breath as it washed over your features. The sandalwood-vanilla of his cologne was reminiscent of heaven, you were sure of it. “It’s okay, baby.”
He swayed you a little, your eyes falling closed in peaceful surrender to him and this moment. . .
“Y/n, I want you to think of your box,” you heard the words, knowing it was Gia. But, you felt Jake saying it. Even if she was the one saying the words, you wanted him to help guide you, too. Your mind was a funny place.
His voice kept soothing you, “Think of the box and open it. Open it and place the memory you stepped into today inside of it. Secure that memory inside of the box.”
So, with one fleeting glance at the disgusting past you’d had to re-experience today, you mentally opened the lid to the box. And, as the lid opened, you let the people and the stingy place flow quickly into the sturdy wooden structure of the box.
You could have spit on the people and the place and the smells. . . Fuck it all.
The sureness of the box truly calmed you as the last little bit of the memory faded into the box.
“Tuck it away in your box. Just keep it there until you’re ready to revisit it again. . .,” Gia counseled, her words yet again came through as if Jake were saying them. His breath was warm against the column of your throat, lips near to your ear. “You have control of it, y/n.”
Once you knew it was all inside, you let the lid click shut. The little pieces of lavender you imagined to be skillfully painted atop the box assured you that it would all be over soon.
Beep beep beep beep. The beeping again. Familiar. You’d heard it momentarily at the disgusting, decrepit house. What was it?
“Y/n,” you heard Gia again, her words no longer masked by Jake’s voice. “Are you ready to come back to the office?”
As much as you wanted to never leave the man who still held you, you knew that the sooner you left the safe place, the sooner you could actually see him. He was waiting for you. In the lobby. In the present.
“Yeah,” you sighed with a sniffle, most of your tears dry after the safety you’d felt in the field of lavender. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
“I’m right here with you,” Gia assured you, her voice the closest it had been since initially closing your eyes.
You closed your eyes once more, your body feeling lighter. Letting yourself sink into real time, you felt the soft, camel leather of the couch under you, around you. Then came the smell of Gia’s essential oils, filtering in through your senses. Things were okay.
When your eyes cracked open, so tentative and slow, Gia was ready and waiting with open eyes.
But the beeping. . . It was still happening — it was incessant. And it was fully apparent now that the sound was coming from your belt bag, hanging on Gia’s office door handle.
Your heart monitor.
Shit.
“How long has that been going off?” You blanched, eyes bugged as you got off the couch to grab your bag from the handle. Though, your legs were weaker than you expected, body worn down. It forced you to sit back down to gain your wherewithal.
Noticing this, Gia stuck a hand out to get you to pause from trying again. “I will grab the bag,” she soothed. “You stay there. Give yourself time to adjust to the present time. You’ve been through it, babe.”
All you could do was nod and swallow thickly, your heart no longer beating hard enough to make the phone go off. But apparently it had accelerated at some point. . .
And then you remembered.
Mr. Morgan. He’d made your heart rate go ballistic.
When he’d approached, commanded you to open your eyes, and almost called you that horrible name. . . it had gone insane.
Your chest had been in so much pain, and you could remember hearing the incessant beeping, now. . .
“Fuck, Gia,” you combed a hand through your hair. “My heart . . . I remember. . . my chest was hurting like a bitch.”
Gia inhaled deeply. “Yeah. . . You know, how about I hold the phone that tracks it from here on out? To keep an eye on your heart rate?” She suggested, raising a brow as she walked back to you with the belt bag. Raising a brow, she eyed you as she got close enough to hand your belongings over to you. “We need to be aware of your health and the baby’s first and foremost, before anything else.”
You swallowed with a slight nod, not wanting to see where your heart had skyrocketed to. But you knew you had to see it. So, you unzipped your bag and shakily got your monitor phone out.
When you slid the screen open to check, your breath caught in your throat. Tears welled in your eyes at the very large number, flashing at you in red.
Shit. 185. What the fuck?
That could have gotten really bad, really fast if Gia hadn’t stopped you when she did.
“So. . . What had it gotten to?” Gia questioned carefully, wide eyes serious and ready to help.
You observed her for a second, not wanting to divulge just how high it had gotten for one reason in specific. . . The fear that Gia would make you stop EMDR if she knew just how high it had gotten — that possibility kept your lips sealed.
“Girly, I really feel it’s incredibly important that we keep track of that. I didn’t want to be invasive while you were under, but I heard it and I knew what it was. . .,” Gia tried to counsel you, taking your skeptical gaze as you finding her invasive. “I really didn’t like not knowing what your heart rate was. It’s best we stay aware of that. We have to be so careful of that, girly.”
You wanted to tell her. Duh. Why wouldn’t you want to? You told her everything else. . . The possibility of not being able to—.
“We will still continue our EMDR, y/n,” Gia grinned warmly with a wink. “I know that’s what you’re worried about. . .”
Your mouth puckered, as you took in a deep breath, gawking at the tall blonde across from you.
You couldn’t help the bubble of a laugh that spurted from your lips, in spite of your worried thoughts. You were in awe of your therapist’s intuition. “How did you know?” You questioned, already mostly knowing the answer.
The answer was: people in this profession were really very incredible. . . And Gia — she, in particular, was so empathetic and so aware of everything that mattered to you. . .
“It’s my job to tune in to that shit,” she grinned, sitting back in her rolling chair, one leg crossed over the other.
After sharing a smirk with her, you decided you might as well tell her. You were nearing the end of your time, and you assumed she still wanted to be filled in on what had happened during your time under.
“My BPM was. . . in the 180s,” you divulged, wary of her reaction. “That’s um—that’s really high,” you tagged on to the end, blowing out a breath, still shocked at the number yourself.
“Ho-ly fuck,” Gia stated, eyes wide and mouth in a straight line as she shook her head. “No shit that’s high.”
“We’ll figure it out?” you stated the question, hoping it would be ammunition for Gia to agree.
“Of course,” she nodded adamantly. Sitting up in her chair, she leaned forward. Her elbows, on the ends of her thighs, near her knee caps. “When do you turn it in? How long do we have with it?”
“I turn it in next week,” you answered, curious where she was going. “Hopefully I’ll get some results and sure answers. . .” Trailing off, you decided to shut up so she could get to her point.
“Well. . .,” she started, rubbing her palms together, eyes glancing down and back to you, “Would you be opposed to me attaching another monitor to you during our sessions? After that one is turned in?”
“That’s a great plan,” you answered, nodding with pursed lips. “Sounds safe.” Though, you paused. One more question. “And you’ll keep watch of it next time?”
“If that’s what you want from me, I’d love to be able to help you in that way,” she answered with a reassuring sureness in her tone.
“I do want that,” you replied with a sheepish grin. “I’d appreciate it.”
“Of course, girly,” Gia smiled, lopsided and full of ease. “We’ll make sure to get you through this therapy the safest we possibly can. Gotta protect you and that baby.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
After filling her in on everything from your EMDR vision, she’d given you a few more pieces of therapeutic wisdom and advice. Little things to follow if the memories came back with a vengeance.
But, you’d gone more than five minutes over your session’s time at that point, pushing her other appointment back.
So, you didn’t get long before the two of you had to bustle out. You’d been about eight minutes past session end time when you officially exited the small room, the session having just ended.
A long fucking session.
Your body was extremely weighed down by fatigue and exhaustion. So, when you finally connected with Jake, you sunk happily into his warm, safe embrace.
It seemed walking directly into Jake’s arms was exactly what your body longed for after leaving Gia’s office. You’d had little to no choice in where your body had guided you.
He had already been standing, waiting for you. His amber-brown eyes, wide open and full of readiness to help you. He’d seemed anxious to see you. You could tell as much by the tapping of his foot, the way he’d been worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, the wrinkle of his brows. . .
So, of course, as soon as you approached, his arms had widened to welcome you in.
Surprisingly, you hadn’t cried when you met his arms. . . Honestly, it was probably because you’d exhausted your tear ducts during your session. And all that you felt now was pure numbness. You didn’t know how to feel – just knew that you were tired and needed someone to be close to.
And Jake was the person you wanted most.
Once safe in his embrace, you didn’t have the mental energy to even think about how it would look to Gia – but you knew she’d understand.
You felt Gia come up behind you, even halfway heard her introducing herself to Jake.
And even though you were out of it, you still heard Jake respond kindly, hearing the smile in his voice. When he moved his hand to shake hers, you didn’t turn around, just kept your face tucked into his shoulder, one of his arms still tightly hugging you to him. The pressure was really nice – it really calmed you down to feel so secure with him.
It felt like the field of lavender, but this was really real – and that made it inexplicably better.
Thankfully since you’d quickly scheduled the next session in Gia’s office, you didn’t have to wait much longer to head home. You didn’t want to leave his embrace, but you ended up turning out of Jake’s arms to tell Gia goodbye.
When you reached forward to give her a hug, she whispered calmly in your ear. “You’re safe. Everything is okay in the here and now. I’m proud of you, y/n. You are already making great strides.”
After telling her a quiet ‘thank you’, you turned to Jake.
“I’m ready when you are,” he assured you, lips turned up in an easy grin. His eyes were soft in a way that showed you he really was ready to be whatever you needed him to be.
You didn’t need to be told again. You were ready for food and sleep. So, after the two of you waved to Gia over your shoulders, Jake let you lead him out, opening the door for you from behind.
-🌼🌼🌼-
When you snapped out of your daze and found a bit of energy, you decided to divulge to Jake just how high your heart rate had gotten during the session.
You had expected him to be a little worried on your behalf, but he’d gotten. . . really, really worried. You’d go so far as to call it a minor anxiety attack.
His eyes had bugged, face had paled, and his breathing had gotten choppy. . . All signs of some serious anxiety on his end.
His care for the situation was apparent, that much was for certain. He’d babbled in a rush of words – voiced a lot of concern on your behalf and the baby’s. . . Well, that was what you could catch in his raspy, frenzied tone. You’d missed a few things as he’d rushed the words out.
It was really sweet how much he cared. You had to work to keep the tiny grin off your face in response to his obviously sincere regard for your health (and the baby’s). You’d kept your quiet smile at bay the best you could and calmly reassured him that you were wearing a heart monitor for a reason – so the doctors could track those weird things and get down to the root of why your heart sucked ass at times.
You’d explained that medical professionals had started dealing with it the night at the emergency room and would continue once your monitor got sent in within the next couple of weeks.
“I know today’s already been a lot, but do you have it in you to explain more about that night?” Jake asked, his breathing evening out as he rounded the curb, out of the office parking lot. “The night you went to the emergency room?”
“Yeah, totally,” you readily agreed, jumping at the opportunity to not think about the muddled images still flashing in your mind from your session. “Where do you want me to start?” You wondered aloud, peeking at him as you picked with a loose string on the seam of your leggings.
He cleared his throat in the way that indicated he was a little nervous. “What triggered it, exactly? Had you been okay at the bar that night? Was it because of something that had happened there?”
“It wasn’t really because of anything that happened at the bar, no,” you shook your head, looking down at the string you were pulling at, giving it a good yank to do away with it. “And I was kind of okay that night. . . Same as I’d been every other day around the time,” you laughed humorlessly, not missing those days at all.
But, you couldn’t help reflecting on the events at the bar. . . since he'd brought it up. That night, just thinking of it still gave you butterflies. . . The way he’d feasted his eyes on you as your song played. . .
Stay focused, y/n.
“Um— during those earlier days, I’d had several days where I’d been really fuckin’ dizzy. . . could hardly eat most days, always nauseous and puking. . .,” you crinkled your nose at the thought, shivering at the memories.
After getting over the thought of the constant vomiting, you stopped your train of thought to consider the fainting. All of the factors. You were not sure what to blame in particular. Though, you remembered Dr. Stevens’ opinion.
“Honestly, more than one factor triggered it. . . but. . .,” you drew in a breath, pinching your eyes shut at the worst part of the night. “I actually blacked out and fucking fainted,” you cracked one eye open to look over at him to gauge his reaction.
“You blacked— you what?!” His voice rose a little bit at the idea, the car swerving the slightest bit when he glanced at you.
“Focus on the road!” You shook your head, eyes now opened wide at his swerve. However, you did find his reaction a bit funny. “I’m fine now, Jake,” you reassured, reaching over to give his arm one squeeze.
But quickly, you placed your hand back in your lap to avoid any sort of awkwardness.
You offered him a smile as your hand moved, looking up at him from your twitching thumbs, just as he glanced down at you.
His eyebrows were still knit with worry when he faced the road again. “You’re sure?”
“Mostly,” you answered, thinking of the heart monitor’s job, peering down briefly to where it stayed on your chest. “They’re tracking my heart rate to make totally sure. And I’ve even kept an eye on my hemoglobin — which is doing much better, too. Not that you care about that part—.”
“I care about it all,” Jake interrupted, his tone insistent enough to make you pause and look over at him.
Let him care, y/n. He wants to. . . Don’t tell him what he cares about and what he doesn’t. . .
From under your lashes, you studied him. You were glad he was now stopped at a light, giving you a little time to share a look with him. His eyes were full of warmth. . . The deep brown of his irises, capturing you. His eyes held yours so tenderly, desperate for you to understand he meant what he said.
And you did understand. You understood that he truly cared for you. . . and that his patience for you was incredible. You just felt completely undeserving of the amount of chances he’d given you after you’d hurt him so badly.
The look in his eyes had you trapped, completely enamored by all of him. . . Your heart beat was pulsing in your ears, helping you to feel light as a feather under his stare.
But, when a car honked to let you both know the light had turned green, it jolted you both, effectively tearing your focus from the other. He was driving again and you were back to looking through the windshield to continue your story.
You cleared your throat to break up the air.
“We um— we checked all the boxes, you could say. The doctor was sure to put measures in place to keep an eye on all of the things that could have been a major issue to trigger that,” you spoke confidently, to give him affirmation that things were okay. “So, yes, I’m sure I’m fine now and I’m going to be fine in the future.”
Out of selfish desire, you let your line of sight float back to him. Yet again. It was just so easy to sit and admire his natural beauty. . .
Jake sucked in a breath, so deep from his chest. You could tell he was considering your words, one brow still arched in contemplation.
“Okay,” he sighed his response, relief evident in his looser posture. He eased up his grip on the wheel, leaning back in the seat. You tried not to watch the way his jeans stretched over his lap. “So,” he started, “is there anything else you found out that night? A big, prevailing reason you quite literally blacked out?”
“The doctor I spoke to thinks it’s because of this underlying condition I most likely have — called POTS.”
“POTS?” He asked, his tone curious. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.”
“It’s just a blood circulation disorder. I think I’ve had it nearly all my life. But it can be brought on by stress and cause things like fainting. . .,” you trailed off, glancing down at your belly. “Which I was obviously feeling a lot of with the baby. I mean, talk about massive life change,” you smirked, rubbing the bump that was more and more noticeable every day.
“And I was the only one who knew this giant thing for a bit. . . then only Elsie knew. And, yeah, when Josh found out, I was feeling a little better. Felt lighter. . .,” you paused, your next words, being important to you. “But I still wanted to tell you most,” your lips lifted in spite of yourself. “But, we weren’t really talking because of all the shit that happened between u–.”
You stopped yourself at that, though. Shit. Today didn’t really seem like the time to get into all of that. It had already been such a long day.
The car stayed silent for a few beats.
Once Jake started speaking again, your eyes found his handsome profile.
“Yeah. . .,” Jake offered in response to that, his jaw clenching. His eyes were dead-set on the road. The expression on his face, hard. Yet. . .it wasn’t angry. Not angry at all, just thoughtful.
He seemed to be contemplating it all.
He proved you right with his next words, bringing you back. “I need you to know—I’m really fucking sorry for not being so present—for not noticing more. I wish I would’ve been more aware and been there for you. . . Shit, I should have noticed you weren’t eating normally and were constantly sick,” he rubbed his forehead once, jaw tight again as he spoke on the subject. “I was still just stuck in my own head over stuff — really hurt. I still am, I think. But, I also, more importantly, had no way of knowing that you were carrying my kid, so. . .,” he trailed off, clearing his throat. “So I didn’t watch too hard for things out of the ordinary — my mind was in other places.”
Other places, your mind repeated, mocking you. Like Maya. . .
Your stomach was still churning at the depressing thought of him having ignored you and still being hurt (albeit, you’d deserved it), when his voice echoed back through your train of thought.
“I did notice you weren’t home that night, though. . . After dropping Maya off at her place, I got home and you weren’t there. I. . .,” he sniffed, running a nervous hand through his hair as he looked both ways to make a turn. “I panicked, noticed your chapstick and house key were on the ground outside — it made no fuckin’ sense. I called Josh to ask him where you were — assumed he’d know. And, he did. But he told me the bare fucking minimum. I didn’t even know you were at the emergency room. He just told me not to worry and cut me off with an ‘I love you’ before hanging up on me,” Jake rolled his eyes at the memory, fists gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Now I know it’s because you obviously really needed him. . . But at that point, I was so pissed. Obviously, you were in some sort of bind and there was nothing I could do to help since we were. . .,” he let his train of thought fade into nothing. Your mind was a frenzy of everything he was telling you, but you tuned back in when he began speaking again. “And then your heart monitor came in the mail. . . I didn’t even think about how they could be connected. I just knew the very little Josh had told me from that night and then I saw a damn heart monitor show up. . . I was just super fucking confused and terrified for you. . . I was trying my best to connect all of the dots.”
“Well. . .,” you started, not sure if you should say what you were thinking. But still, you did. “It wasn’t really any of your business at that point. I didn’t want to make you— it was just a lot to process for me and we. . .,” you trailed off, at a loss. Still so tired from the session. “I don’t know. . . I had reasons.”
“I know, y/n,” he responded, voice tight with masked emotion.
You didn’t know what to say after that. Your eyes were trained on what was outside the passenger side window.
The air in the car was dense, slightly awkward on your end.
It was strange how weird things could feel after a damn conversation when, just a week ago in this very car, you’d had him in your mouth.
It was slightly embarrassing that a hard conversation topic was what it took to make both of you freeze up. But, somehow, you could still find the wherewithal to have your mouth on his. . . Mhm.
That was what you got for making sex such a giant thing before. . . now you’d made that easy and everything else fucking taboo.
But the sex had just been too good to not make it something you did all the damn time. . .
God, you missed sex with him. . . Him, inside of you, his hips going at a perfect pace. . .
Thanks to your motherfucking hormones, you were back in the living room floor with him. . . So often, you went back to that one rainy morning with Aretha Franklin on the turntable. . .
The look on his face when you fucked him, one of your favorite sights. That morning, just like always, he’d watched you so closely. . . Your face, your breasts, your ass, or your pussy that was wrapped around him, so tight.
As he fucked you so slow and purposeful, a hand raising your leg to get a better angle, he hit a secret spot inside of you. Your toes had curled as you whined his name.
And just as his name fell from your lips, he’d scrunched his brows, and let his mouth fall open with certain movements of his hips. His jaw, clenched, when you’d flex around him or biting his lip when you’d let out a shaky breath. . .
“Y/n?”
“Yes?” You shook your head of the fucking delicious scene in your memories.
Now was not the time.
To show respect, you did your best to wipe the picture and put your full attention on him. You glanced at him. He looked so beautiful under the natural light of the early evening and the streetlights. And his hair looked so healthy and long. . .
“I’m not upset or anything that you kept any of it from me,” he ventured to explain, your mind coming back to the topic at hand. “I need you to know that.”
“You’ve kind of already told me all of this before,” you started with a smile, eyeing the radio for a bit.
Music. You needed music.
You began to mess with the buttons, turned down the volume, and hooked your phone up to the aux. “I know you, Jake,” you continued with a sigh, scrolling your playlists, finding a song you were suddenly craving to hear. “I know you well enough to know you aren’t upset with me for keeping it all from you for a bit. You have a good heart.”
“You give me too much credit,” he humorously laughed. “I’m not always so sure about how good I am these days — kind of always doubted that about myself and right now is no different.”
At his words and sound of disbelief, you looked over at him with a wrinkle in your brow. His own eyebrows were set with an odd, unreadable emotion. You hadn’t clicked the song to play yet. This was too important to not address.
“Jacob,” you said sternly. His eyes stayed glued to the busier street. “I don’t give you ‘too much credit’. I just see you and know you well – anyone who truly matters sees you for who you truly are. I, like all of them, love y— appreciate everything you are.”
Shit. What was that that almost slipped from your lips?! Nothing. It was nothing. Ignore, ignore, ignore. . .
You were just hormonal and emotional.
You continued with intent to make your point known, doing your best to forget the slip-up. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes – we all have. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m not about to hold anything against you right now.”
Cracking a smile, you decided you wanted to throw in a bit of a joke. “I mean, I would have to hold it against you if you killed someone or some shit,” you giggled, his own raspy laugh joining you.
But fuck, you couldn’t ignore that one emotion you were feeling. . .
It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. You didn’t know why the fuck you’d said that word of all words.
But this feeling. . . It was intense like love could be. It had your heart in your throat and your tummy tied in nervous knots. . .
You’d felt a need to say the words. A need for him to know how much you. . . how much you. . . How much you what, exactly?!
This was going to drive you fucking nuts.
So, to break the nonstop, crazy wave of thought, you played the song you felt like playing at the moment.
The song was “In the Moment” by Snoh Aalegra, one of your favorite R&B goddesses.
And, of course, the lyrics matched your heart. Perfectly. Oddly. Precisely. Music was your favorite language.
Do you mind if I try to come apologize to you?
'Cause I said some things that I realized wasn't true
You couldn’t stop your movements when your head slowly turned to look in his direction. His sunglasses were off due to the darker sky, so you could see every blink of his pretty eyes, long lashes touching the dark circles under his eyes with each blink. He watched the road carefully, maneuvered around cars with an ease that had you hoping he’d be around to drive you to the hospital on a certain day in May. . .
Your heart swelled in your chest at his attention to the road. This particularly protective nature of his, as the driver, was new. . .
And I'm sorry for it
I'm emotional
This is your fault
Please listen when I say
I care about you
You tried to look away from him. Really, you did. It just couldn’t be helped. The way these lyrics kept pulling something from deep within your soul as you watched him drive. . .
But you still couldn’t figure out what was getting pulled in you, exactly. It felt weird, but only in a fulfilling way. . . Your heart ached, your head clouded with all things surrounding him.
And then, just as he stopped at a red light, his eyes met yours.
You had been caught red handed in your stare, but it didn’t seem to matter. Not to you, not to him. He smiled at you, the same, warm smile you knew all too well to be uniquely his. (And hopefully your baby’s.)
The lyrics and melody of the song were adding to your already emotionally-tangled state. You just wanted to be with him always—hold him tight so he couldn’t leave. Never wanted him to leave.
Out of pure instinct, your hands found rest on your tummy, tucking underneath the bump. His smile only grew, stretching wide on his lips as his eyes followed the movement. Your heart did a little flip in your chest.
This moment. . .
His foot let off the brake when the light turned green, pulling his eyes away from yours. The music coasting through the speakers said all the things you so desperately wanted to say. Though, Snoh sang them far more beautifully than you could ever say them yourself.
I was in the moment
I ain't really mean what I said to you
So put away your pride, baby
We can work it out if you want this, too
You hoped on every star in the winter sky that Jake was listening to the words, somehow feeling them as deeply as you were.
But if I could stay, I’d stay with you. . .
Your phone ringing snapped you out of your reverie and when you looked down to see who it was, you were not expecting the contact you saw.
The OB office.
Your heart started speeding up in your chest again, breath catching and nerves wracking your system at the most inopportune time. As you turned down the song to talk to the person on the other end, you contemplated why they were calling. . .
The appointment had already been rescheduled. . . So what else could be needed? Was something wrong?
You felt Jake’s palm splay across your thigh, fingers giving light, pulsing grips to the muscle through the fabric of your leggings. Skin heating at his touch, you looked up and over at him.
“Who?” He whispered, quietly as he could.
“OBGYN,” you mouthed back, clicking the green button to answer at the same time that he raised a brow in confusion.
“Hello?” You spoke into the phone, trying to keep your voice even-toned for whoever called you.
“Miss y/n?” Dr. Rose responded. Her Southern accent, friendly, on the other end, sounding happy as a lark.
Hearing her sound okay helped your nerves ease up – weren’t quite as frayed as they had been to begin with. Jake’s hand was still on your leg, offering reassurance. But while his touch did comfort you, it also made your heart rate speed up and head swim for another reason entirely.
Thankfully, considering the baby, your heart was slowing down. . . If Dr. Rose sounded fine, then surely things were fine, right?
“Hi, Dr. Rose,” you said, voice perking up just the slightest bit. Looking out the windshield, you focused on the pretty colors in the sky. All light pinks, oranges, and the prettiest periwinkle thanks to the winter evening’s premature setting sun. “Is everything alright?”
“Oh, more than, Sweet Cakes! Just checkin’ in to see that Friday still works for ya,” she explained, her drawl not quite as thick the more she spoke. But it was still there and it made you feel warm inside for some reason.
Admittedly, you knew it was partially due to the fact that she seemed to only be calling to confirm your appointment. According to Dr. Rose, everything was ‘more than’ alright. . . you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
“Yeah. It works for me,” you sighed, running a nervous hand through your hair, knee still bouncing with the unexpectedness of the phone call. “Let me check with Jake real quick. I’m with him right now,” you held your hand over the speaker, looking over to your handsome driver. He’d just made it onto a highway, but momentarily glanced down at you. You hushed your next question, not wanting to disturb Dr. Rose. “Does Friday still work for you? For the week 17 appointment?”
Jake’s face opened up at the question, his eyes brightening with a smile that lifted the corner of his mouth. “Of course,” he quietly responded. “I have the whole day blocked off just for that.”
Your stomach did somersaults at him being so excited for the appointment, but you still dipped your eyebrows in at him. “You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered back. “Take the whole day for it.”
Jake shook his head, and with a dimple in his cheek, he just looked back at the road. Didn’t even acknowledge what you said any further.
You closed your eyes, a small smile on your lips at his desire to be fully available – it gave you butterflies. Back to the phone call at hand, you faced the windshield again to continue the call with your OB. “Dr. Rose?”
“Yes ma’am,” she excitedly greeted back.
“It still works for us,” you said, the smile not fading from your lips. Us. You really, really loved the sound of that word coming off your tongue. “Are you sure you’re still okay doing the appointment before week 18? I know how you feel about all of that. . .”
You didn’t know why you were asking – shouldn’t have even said anything. The idea of putting it off any longer was not what you wanted, and you didn’t want to make Dr. Rose think you’d be okay with that. But, it was too late now. You’d already asked.
“Oh, yes, babygirl. I’m the one that made ya wait past week 16! I felt bad, but I didn’t want ya to have any lull period,” she boomed on the other end, sounding so genuinely kind-hearted. It made your heart feel so full. “Completely fine with me – why I offered it to ya! I gotta admit, I’m a little excited to be findin’ out the gender a week earlier than normal. Ya know I never do that for my girls, but you’ve just seemed very special to me since the day you walked in. You’re a good seed in a bag ‘a bad ones, sweetie pie. So, I just had to make an exception.”
“Thank you so much, Dr. Rose,” you gushed, a tear coming to the corner of your eye at her sentiment.
“I knew it would drive ya nuts havin’ to wait.”
“It would have,” you giggled, agreeing with a sniff to attempt to rid yourself of the tear.
She laughed heartily on the other end. “You have a beautifully passionate heart, little miss y/n,” she remarked. “You’re goin’ to be a wonderful mama for it.”
Aaand, there was no stopping the tear as it turned into a couple more, drifting down your cheek.
Jake must have looked over at the perfect time, because as soon as the tears fell, he was squeezing your thigh once more. His hand had never left your body.
But, you really needed him to stop holding you and caring because you were going to pounce on him. No questions asked. . .especially with the fluffy headspace you were in.
Emotional over a phone call or not, your body reacted to him in ways you couldn’t stop.
“How’s your heart?” Dr. Rose was in your ear again, bringing you back. She was in no rush whatsoever. You were shocked that she seemed to want to keep the conversation going. Even after the first question, she continued with another. “I know ya filled me in on it a little bit last week on the phone, but any more updates?”
“Doing alright, I think,” you responded, sniffling at her eagerness to stay updated on your wellbeing. Was she just being a good doctor? Probably. But, still. It meant a lot to you. “I will send my monitor in on the 17th. I’m so ready to be done with it,” you replied with a huff of a laugh, looking down to mess with a loose string on your oversized jacket. “And I think everything else has gotten much better since that ER visit, too. Just keeping an eye on things,” you finished, happy to explain everything to her.
This phone call was officially a highlight to your day now that you knew there was no reason to stress over it. Dr. Rose just made you feel good. You really enjoyed talking to the older Southern woman. Her heart shone through her personality. And, whether she made these efforts for all patients or not (you were sure she did), it just meant the world to you that she seemed to be so thoughtful.
She seemed to take very seriously that it was a vulnerable time in any woman’s life. Dr. Rose just seemed to do very well at her job. You were grateful for her.
“When Mount Sinai sent over that information all those weeks ago, I gotta be honest, it stressed me for ya for a bit,” she said, voice suddenly thick with a sort of concerned emotion. Not worried anymore, you could tell that much. But, it was obvious she had been troubled by it when it initially happened, from the way she sounded now.
“Although, when I read all of their tests on my end, I knew you’d be okay. Just a bump in the road, sweetie – it happens. You will be just fine!” She reassured you in her twang, the words made your head clear in a way you’d needed since the night at the hospital. “And, that sweet baby was doing so great still, in spite of it all. You’ve got a strong one, mama.”
Yeah, there was no stopping the onslaught of tears at those words. Your baby was strong. You were so proud.
“Yeah?” You sniffed. “You think so?”
“I know so. That little one was movin’ and groovin’ already that first day. . . that sure doesn’t happen with every baby! He or she is very special – just like their mama,” she emphasized, sniffling on her own end of the phone. “Well. . . . as long as this Friday still works for you, I think I can let ya go, honey bun.”
“Yes, it does,” you confirmed once more, pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and patting your cheeks with it. “Thank you again.”
“No need to thank me, Sweet Cakes.” You could hear her smile through the phone, imagined her lips covered in the prettiest bright red matte lipstick. “You have a good nigh– oh! Before ya go. . . .”
“Yes?” you questioned curiously, eyebrow raising with a little grin on your lips.
“You mentioned a Jake earlier. Does this Jake happen to be the baby’s daddy?”
You blushed, looking over at him. He glanced over at you at the same time, an eyebrow raising when you caught his eye. Your cheeks heated even more when you looked into his eyes. Your baby’s daddy.
“He is the baby’s daddy, yeah,” you explained, continuing to watch him as you said the words. He had to keep his eye on the road, but you saw how his lips stretched, the smile showing his pride at the title.
“And he will be comin’?”
“He will be there,” you affirmed, your heart racing in your chest at the idea of him being there with you. It had you equal parts jittery and utterly overjoyed to have him be present at the appointments.
“Wonderful. Sounds like a good daddy already,” she gushed from her end of the phone.
And when he came to the next light, much nearer to the complex, you watched him and waited until he looked over at you. When his eyes found yours, glowing amber-brown in the nearly-set sun, your heart squeezed inexplicably in your chest.
“He is a really good daddy,” you answered, tears threatening to clog your throat.
After you said the words, you watched his eyes become wet with an unnamed emotion. A wide, slightly shaky grin on his pretty lips. With the addition of a pink blush in his cheeks, you wanted to be able to read the exact way he was feeling.
But. . . at the current moment he suddenly seemed impossible to read. There was something behind his eyes that seemed so familiar and so hazy all at once. . .
Or maybe you were just really, really tired.
-🌼🌼🌼-
“I don’t have to go to this tonight,” Jake offered, pulling into the complex.
You raised a brow, looking at him. As much as you wanted him to stay with you after today’s session, you knew that sleep was the first priority. He’d end up sitting around most of the night anyway.
If things were different, you would ask him to lay down with you. You’d keep him close. But. . . That wasn’t how things were for the two of you.
You needed a nap and he needed to be with his girlfriend. As much as it sucked, she took priority over you. He wasn’t yours.
You already felt selfish enough for taking his entire early evening away from him. You didn’t want to steal any more of his night.
“No, Jake,” you giggled, trying your best to play off the want to have him near. “I’m good. You’ve done everything you can for me tonight. Don’t need you for anything else — you’re free.”
It was silent for a little bit as Jake found his parking space. You were too tired to keep any sort of conversation going, preparing to doze against the window as he went to back into his space.
Though, when he placed his hand on the headrest behind you to back in, you couldn’t help but turn to glance up at him.
The way he held his bottom lip between his teeth as he focused on situating the Jeep into the parking space, just right. . . You felt guarded and protected by the placement of his arm above you. It made your tummy flip.
And the mustache that kept making a reappearance on his pretty face, accentuating his plush lips perfectly. . .
You licked your lips as you watched him, your eyes lazy as you let your stare wander down his body . . .
But before you could get too far, Jake’s deep, raspy tone broke through to you.
“Hey.”
Fuck. Your tiredness was quickly becoming enemy number one, exposing you.
Quickly, you flicked your eyes up to him, swallowing thickly, awaiting him with vulnerability clear on your features.
For some reason, you expected to see him grinning at you being caught. But his features were unwaveringly straight, studying your face with his eyebrows drawn in concentration.
“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes soon finding yours to pierce through. Damn, you felt naked under his stare. No two ways about it.
Your eyes sunk into his, wishing you were naked—.
“You’ve had a long day and I want to be available—.”
“I’m sure,” you cut him off, needing to get out of the car before you made a stupid move. You just needed rest; your tiredness was making you weak.
“Please. Go have fun,” you encouraged further, looking down to observe your nails, desperate to be repainted. Shaking your head, you continued to solidify your point. “You’ve done enough for me. You have a girlfriend who’s expecting you to be with her tonight.”
And if you stay here tonight, there’s no telling what I’ll try to do with you. . .
“‘Kay,” he responded. At his short tone, your eyes floated up to check on him. You watched as he quickly grabbed his keys out of the ignition, refusing to look at you until the last second. “I’ve gotta get going pretty soon then.”
“Yeah,” you breathed with a shake of your head, unsure of what else to say. And before he could get your door for you, you were doing it yourself — didn’t want to get in his way.
Whatever this conversation had become, it was far too much for your brain to wrap around at this moment.
You needed fucking sleep.
-🌼🌼🌼-
After you’d filled your Stanley and sat it on your bedside table, your next mission was to change into looser, cozier clothes. You stripped your pants and bra, and found a giant t-shirt. And your softest fuzzy socks had been a last minute must have before finding your bed.
Finally.
Almost as soon as you landed on your bed, your eyes were fluttering closed. The softness of your sheets and duvet, the cleanliness and the comfort of your bed was too incredible for you to resist sleep for long.
At the same time, Jake was getting ready for his time with Maya, and had apparently decided to shower. When the steady stream of water sounded through the wall, you relaxed even further. You focused on the soothing sound of the shower running and imagined how near he was to you.
He hadn’t left you yet.
Admittedly, putting your mind on Jake going about his business made you feel quite at home.
And that thought had been the seemingly final step to finding rest, sleep finding you quite easily with easy thoughts of your handsome roommate.
-🌼🌼🌼-
But, to your disdain, the nap didn’t last as long as you’d hoped.
After only a couple of hours, you’d woken up and couldn’t go back to sleep to get any more rest. You tried to fall asleep again. It was all you’d wanted after your emotionally exhausting day.
The longer you laid in your bed and tried to find more sleep, you realized it was just not going to happen. The small apartment felt too big and empty and your mind raced with the scene you’d witnessed during EMDR.
To your demise, the little wooden box had somehow cracked open a little while you slept. You figured it was because you’d dreamt of what you’d seen in therapy. Your subconscious was working without your complete consent.
That man with the thick fingers and clenched fists. . . He’d come floating out of the box first as you laid underneath your fluffy, white, clean bed covers. . .
Mr. Morgan. . . Who was he? You could not place his role in it all yet. . . While you were able to remember him and his living room now, that was about where it stopped.
The smell of him had stuck with you most since the memory. The potentness of his body odor in your subconscious had been a severe trigger – a trigger to things you weren’t capable of remembering yet.
But, you knew that whenever those things did get conjured up again, you wouldn’t be ready. You just knew. The feeling alone that came associated with him and seeing him again. . . made you feel grimy – made your skin crawl like bugs were living underneath your flesh.
Then there was your mother. You hadn’t been able to recall the distinct features of her face for years. Your grandparents didn’t have pictures of her up in their home – only ones of you and Elsie through the years. It was like she hadn’t ever existed.
But today? Today she was back. Full force. You felt her. You smelled her. You saw every. single. feature.
The stringiness of your mom’s hair when she’d been with the man in the recollected vision. . .
You couldn’t help but compare the hair in the vision to the fullness of it in small memories you cherished. . . There was a certain Christmas memory you kept close, her sweater had been brand new. Her hair, naturally brown and billowing out beautifully behind her. You had a few of those moments in time. A few decent memories you’d never let go completely away. No matter how much time passed or how foggy they became, you held onto them.
What struck you as disheartening was the way the woman transitioned from one version of herself to another in the fragments of time you could grasp. You remembered, it was rare to consistently witness the same mom growing up. You’d been forced at a young age to confront the fact that you never truly knew the woman that gave birth to you.
She’d been very dirty more times than not, you could remember that much now. From what you were beginning to recall, she rarely smelled good. Showers hadn’t seemed to be her forte from the grease that had been constantly caked in her hair if she wasn’t with your grandparents. Her skin had even been oily from her lack of showers, just as greasy as her hair.
The houses she had you living in, too. . . you could vaguely picture a few of those (besides Mr. Morgan’s). The one you were in within your recollected memory today had been so filthy. The grossness of the environment was coming to you in small bits. There’d been times you’d seen families of cockroaches climb into the pantry. . . Or when an occasional rat would scurry across the stained carpet, right past your feet. . .
You shivered in your bed at the thought, toes wiggling against your soft socks and covers. The loose sheet and duvet came closer to your chin as you tried to completely envelop yourself in your current reality. Things were safe.
It was just a-fucking-lot to process alone. And the last thing you wanted to do was burden anyone else with it. So, even if Jake had stayed with you rather than Maya after therapy, you knew you’d still be swirling in circles in your mind.
You were just glad you only had to wait a week for therapy to continue digging through this with the help of your therapist.
The images of the man and your mother kept flip-flopping in your mind, not leaving you alone — each taking turns in mocking your peace. It was enough that you felt your breath become choppy and your heart begin to race in your chest. Your clammy hands were clenching and unclenching over and over again, trying to find some sort of relief and distraction from the thoughts. The smells were coming back to you, vivid as they’d been during your therapy today. . .
And the moment you began to hear that distant, haunting chuckle from your past, embedded in the new flashes of memory, you shut your eyes. You squeezed your lids together so tightly. Your fists came to cover your eyes, pushing down on them just a little to see stars alongside the black.
Yet, the sound continued to get closer and closer to you. Desperately, you thought back on Gia’s advice should this happen.
One of the small pieces of advice she’d given you, when the session’s time was five-minutes passed.
“Now, if these things come back or more memories come to you and you would rather not think of them in the moment they do: take a break,” Gia had advised, going to hold your hands in hers between the two of you. “Take a break, wherever you are, and go to your safe place.”
She’d given you a couple of other things to try, but she’d stayed insistent that you try the safe place first. Every time. Get used to the place, make it a habit to run to it in these times.
So, you tried your damnedest to shut the thoughts out like you would on her soft, camel leather couch. Your eyes closed as you tried, working to focus on the idea of traveling to a field of lavender and Jake.
Though before you could get any further, your eyes snapped open, knowing you had one more step before you went there.
You tried to even your breathing, unclenching your fists. Once you’d relaxed enough to loosen your hands, you searched for some meditation music on Spotify.
And once you’d found a dreamy playlist, you laid back to feel it. Your goal: feel it enough to let go.
This time when you closed your eyes, you did it with less force and breathed in and out, in and out. Once again, everything was black. . . but just for the first minute or so.
It didn’t take long for you to hear the birds chirping and to feel the solid chest breathing beneath you. He breathed deeply – in and out, in and out, just as you did.
Almost as soon as you felt your body settle into him and the soft ground of the earth, you heard him speak, too. It was like you were hearing him through a rush of warm wind, a breeze drifting across your face. “You’re doing great, baby,” he soothed you in his velvety tone, running a sure hand through your hair, fingers tracing your scalp. You shivered, enjoying the wonderful feeling it gave you, all the way to the tips of your toes. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
Further, you pushed into him, wanting to be as close to him as you could be. You wrapped your arms around him the best you could while laying down, needing to feel his body tightly against your own. When you did this, he wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you into him. Your round belly, pressed between the two of you, made your heart settle into a soothing thrum in your chest.
No other words were said as you laid there, the sky blue when you finally opened your eyes to the new place. The field of lavender, so lucious and smelling heavenly around you. The purple flower surrounding you smelled clean, peaceful, and a lot like. . . love. It was a strange idea that a flower would smell like love, but you’d come to associate it with someone who–.
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
Your eyes opened at a moment’s notice when you heard a knock on the front door. Somehow, the sound against the door managed to break you from your hypnotic-like reverie. The knocks weren’t small or soft thuds by any means, but it was odd that you’d heard them all the way through to your sacred place. All the way through your bedroom door. . .
Though, thankfully, after having a bit of time to visit the safest place your mind could conjure up, you were on the path to feeling fine again. So after laying in bed for a few more seconds, you got up and padded to the door in your fluffy socks.
Before you opened the door, you peeked through the peephole.
When you did, your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. Your breathing evened out significantly for the first time since waking from your nap. And without any hesitancy, you unlatched the chain and unlocked the knob and deadbolt.
As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted by Jake, a very apologetic smile on his face. One of his hands covered his eyes in feigned embarrassment, making a slit in his fingers to look at you through them. His other hand was tucked in the front pocket of his black slacks.
He’d changed clothes after dropping you off.
Duh, he’d showered, y/n. He wouldn’t be wearing the same dirty clothes afterwards . . .
He was now dressed very nicely, his hair looking so healthy and full. A few strands were still damp here and there, from the shower you’d heard him start as you’d fallen asleep for your nap.
And goddamn. He smelled so fucking delicious – you could’ve melted into him.
Rather than focusing on the way the hints of sandalwood and vanilla in his cologne made you feel airy, you asked the question you couldn’t help but wonder. “Where is your key?”
A hint of a laugh was present in your tone as you crossed your arms over your boobs – which you noticed were slightly less sore than normal.
Pleasant surprise.
Oh, fuck. Your boobs. No bra. Only wearing a giant t-shirt and fuzzy socks. The thong you were wearing was a poor excuse at covering your ass.
Glancing down briefly, you were reassured by the length. It was long enough to fully cover your backside, went down your thighs a bit. . . but you still felt very bare.
When you looked up, you found that Jake had noticed your lack of clothing at the same time as you. His stare burned through your t-shirt, all the way down to your blushing skin. Your chest was heaving of its own accord, nipples hardening at the attention from him. . .
His gaze soon dropped down to your lips, his own parting as his tongue went to wet his mouth.
No. You had to be the responsible one here. You could do it.
So, you forced a subtle short cough, toes wiggling in your fuzzy socks. And, thankfully, it brought him back to the current situation.
His wide, brown eyes snapped to yours, staying there momentarily. It made your cheeks pink — the way he was unashamedly sharing this moment with you. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all as he bit his lip with a grin stretched over his lips.
Fuck.
“Your key?” You tried again with a squeak. Rolling your eyes, your short cough was real this time as you had to clear your throat. Ridiculous.
Not saying anything, he responded like nothing had occurred before. He motioned with his head towards the kitchen bar behind you. Your head turned to follow his eyes. And, you found his keys, still laying on the counter, not having been touched since before he left.
“Did Maya pick you up?” You asked him, arching a brow at the keys.
“Yes.”
“How’d you get back?” Okay, y/n, now’s not the time for twenty questions.
“Uber,” he simply answered, a little hiccup following the word.
“Well. . . did you come back for them to drive yourself?” You asked, turning back around to face him, hoping he wouldn’t say ‘yes’. You selfishly wanted him to stay.
For the first time since you’d woken up, your body felt light. . . . And, you’d noticed it had happened the exact moment you saw him outside your door.
Shaking his head, he finally looked at you head-on, and you could see his eyes were the slightest bit unfocused.
Oh. . . A smirk rested on your lips as you crossed your arms once more.
He had a goofy, carefree smile on his lips. And then you smelled it — the slightest tinge of alcohol on him as he swayed a bit towards you.
Raising a brow, your lips continued to match his grin. Giggling, you pondered aloud, “Did you have a drink or two, babe?”
You didn’t say that last word. Nope.
“Maaaaybe,” he said, shrugging with both hands in his pockets now, the silly smile still plastered to his lips. “It was a party, after all,” he tagged on to the end, a bit of a British lilt falling over his words.
A party. Hm. For some reason, you hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility. Why did the fact that it’d been a party make your stomach turn a little bit?
“A party?” You inquired, tucking your arms a little closer against your chest. And there was the tenderness again.
“Maya’s baby sister— eight years younger than Maya,” he over-explained, tripping over himself a little as he made his way through the door without any warning. “Turned twenty one today.”
Oh, that explains the excessive drinking, you gathered mentally.
But, as you stood there connecting the dots, you didn’t focus enough on the fact that he was falling into you through the door frame. Thankfully, you put your arms out in time to stop him from bumping into you to the point of knocking you over. But when you put your arms out to stop his fall, he got the wrong idea and put his arms out as well, crashing into you a bit as he wrapped them around you in a secure embrace.
It took a bit for you to register what was happening as you stood in shock at the gentle gesture amidst his drunkenness. And while you were registering it all, he must’ve gotten the idea that you didn’t want him so close to you. So, very slowly, he pulled away.
Rather awkwardly, you just stood there, arms still held out in shock from the sudden hug.
Why were you surprised at all? He’d been like this recently – just today at counseling, he’d been extremely attentive, holding you when you’d needed him. . .
Was this time different? Was it because now he was doing it for virtually no reason at all? You weren’t in need of his help or his comfort (that he knew of) at the moment. And, he still wanted to hug you – that was what caught you completely off guard.
He’s drunk, y/n, a voice reminded you. Don’t overthink it. It’s just because he’s inebriated.
And while you stood in the doorway, he continued to traipse past you, body lopsided and shaky. He was being very careful to not bump into you again, turning his body in odd ways.
When you turned to observe him, as he made it past you, you noticed that in the process of trying to steer clear of you, he was losing his balance – quite quickly.
So, you did the only thing you could think to do and followed behind him to help however you could.
He wouldn’t remember it anyway.
When he started putting too much weight on one foot and started tilting a bit too far to the side, you acted on instinct.
You wrapped your arms around his midsection.
It proved to be a bit of a feat to keep him upright and on his feet, but you tried your hardest. The man was wonderfully built. . . but solid as a rock.
Has he been working out? You couldn’t help but wonder this as your arms pressed a bit more into his strong abdomen.
You realized that thought process could become a distraction to the task at hand in no time, so you put it to the back of your mind. Instead, you just put all of your concentration into helping him stay on the track he desired. . . . Which happened to be his bedroom.
While trying to keep him stable, you felt your belly press further into his back. The baby felt safer there, between the two of you. It felt right to be so close. . .
But, again, you focused on the important goal of getting Jake in bed. You just kept him pressed to you the best you could with a baby in the way. Matching his footing from behind, you walked in even step with him.
Once you were officially at his door, you reached around him to open his door for him. When your hand met the knob and twisted it, he reached forward, placing his hand over yours to open it with you. The gentle action made your skin flame.
Though, it didn’t last long. You didn’t pause, instead continuing into the room. And the moment you walked into the room, he tapped your arm, presumably to let you know he was okay on his own. So, you tentatively let go.
Your arms suddenly felt empty, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome.
He seemed to be a little better now, sitting down on his bed. He did it with more effort than normally necessary, but he still seemed more capable than he’d been a few minutes ago.
So, without a word, you went to head out of his room. Right before you could walk out the door, though, you heard him from behind you.
“Where you going?” He asked sadly, sounding more like a neglected child than a grown man.
Turning around with a brow raised, you asked the question with your eyes before saying it aloud. “Why? You’re good now, right?”
His eyes zoned out momentarily on your face. You just blamed it on the alcohol, feeling woozy. When he came back to Earth, his eyes met yours. His eyes suddenly seemed much clearer than before. All of the air in your lungs evaporated at the look he was giving you. Desperation was the most fitting word for it.
“I’m not good without you,” he offered, his eyes darting to his feet almost directly after saying the words. He leaned down to sloppily take off his boots, but still neatly placed them next to his bed after taking them off.
It was honestly pretty funny to watch. You would’ve been more amused if your mind wasn’t still reeling a bit from his words. You zoned out on his guitar, placed neatly on its stand.
He. is. drunk, y/n, your internal heckler reminded you. Stop overthinking.
But. . . drunk words are honest –.
“Can you help?” Jake asked, sounding desperate while trying to achieve a task.
You looked over at him, finding him standing now and struggling to take off a necklace. Without argument, you left where you’d been standing, dejected and confused, by the doorway, to help him.
When you made it over to him, you tapped his hands where they struggled with the latch at the nape of his neck.
“Let me,” you insisted, replacing his hands with yours when he moved them.
Once the necklace was taken off, you made your way around him to place the jewelry on his bedside table, whose lamp bathed the room in golden light.
You glanced down at the necklace, running a finger down the face of the medallion. Medusa. That was who was etched into the gold metal.
“You into Greek mythology right now?” You questioned, peeking over your shoulder at him.
When you did, the sight that beheld you took you by total surprise. Shirtless. Shirt gone. No shirt. Jake, halfway naked.
“Oh,” you uttered the word in a moan more than anything else. You even felt your jaw drop the slightest bit. You didn’t really think anything of it. You didn’t really care to control your reactions. He wouldn’t remember any of this. You just kept telling yourself that.
And with the way the heat flooded from your head all the way to your chest, blossoming to the pit of your tummy – you didn’t think you could control your reactions. Then, when he absentmindedly adjusted himself in his pants. . . Yep.
You bit your lip, tucking hair behind your ear. Suddenly, you felt completely out of control of your body. . . Your hormones were calling the shots – they (and Jake) were making you feel unsteady in the best possible way.
The only downside was: there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Morals stood in the way of your bodies colliding and fucking it out.
You understood that the Jeep incident had happened. Of-fucking-course — there was no forgetting that shit. But a big part of you also thought it would be best to leave the other night in the Jeep in the past.
It wasn’t fair to anyone involved. Right?
So. . . You just focused on the present moment. No sex. Just Jake in front of you. Tried to ignore the surge of want for him at seeing half of him bare.
But goddamn — what a beautifully welcome sight. . .
His body had changed in the handsomest of ways. His thighs, as you’d noticed recently, were thicker than before. And he was. . . just broader than before. It started at the width of his shoulders, and worked down his abdomen to fill out with toned, tight muscle — his new addition of muscle was thick beneath the surface. There was just more of him altogether. The perfect amount of body for you to touch, kiss, lick. . . . . goddammit.
He still wasn’t looking at you, instead making his way to the laundry hamper across the room. You observed the way the muscle in his back flexed as he walked. The expanse of skin under his shoulder blades — his back was thick with new strength. . .What in the sweet hell?
When he carefully swiveled on his heel to make his way back to you, after tossing the shirt in the basket, you still didn’t take your eyes from him. Just admired the sight and the fact that watching him could be your own little secret. . .
A secret not even for Jake to know.
Though, as if on cue, his line of sight connected with yours. And when it did – damn. Your heart hammered hard in your chest. Your breath was trapped in your throat, all of it stolen from you.
His chocolate eyes, although hazy from alcohol, were so fucking dark. Dark in the same way they’d been in his Jeep last week.
He looked the same as he had right before you’d bent over his lap. The same way he’d eyed you as you’d been on top of him – licking him, sucking him, touching him. . .
So, instead of holding his eyes, you decided you had to look away before you made matters any worse than they were at the present moment.
Awkwardly, you started your next sentence without taking time to think about it. “You good now, Ja–?”
“What was your question?”
When he interrupted you, you wanted to look back at him. But you didn’t. Not with the way his voice was suddenly much fuller – deeper, raspier. . .
Coughing to mask any sort of embarrassing action, you tried your best to think back to what you’d asked. You couldn’t even remember. . . oh. Medusa. Pointless question. Didn’t matter.
“It was noth–.”
“I don’t care. Still wanna know.”
“Jake, it seriously doesn’t matt–.”
“Look at me, y/n,” he demanded, daring to be argued with. “Quit acting like we’re strangers.”
God. Your teeth found your lip, biting harder with a deep inhale. You let the plumpness of your bottom lip fall from your teeth with a tight exhale. Your tongue pressed into your cheek, eyebrows knit with frustration, when you peered up at him.
Fuck it all. This was why you hadn’t let yourself look at him.
His hungry eyes scanned your body when he got his way. He stood there admiring all of you, but his eyes were zeroed in on your ass, not leaving it.
You looked down to get an idea of what he was looking at.
And, to your horror, you noticed that the t-shirt had ridden up, completely exposing the bottom curve of your ass cheeks.
But, you didn’t move to change it. Instead, you decided to just stand there. Let him look. You wanted him to. This wouldn’t even count in the morning when he forgot it all.
You definitely weren’t offended by his staring. Not in the slightest. Just sort of made you nervous where things would lead if he didn’t stop observing the exposed skin.
Diversion.
“Jake,” you purposefully spoke his name, vying for his attention up top, rather than having his eyes on your ass.
You got your wish. Sort of. His eyes dragged from your ass to your thighs. . . Only to stop at your tits. Your skin was flushed and your skin was tingling. Your breasts, heavy under his stare and nipples tightly peaked against your oversized shirt.
Fuck. Your body really was your worst enemy — constantly gave you away. Pregnancy hormones were a pain in the ass.
So, you did the only thing you could think to do: you watched him watch you. The idea of his eyes burning into you without the ability to control it. . . It was almost too much for you to handle.
Then, he wet his lips, afterwards biting into his plump bottom lip. You might as well have been naked under his stare, completely at his mercy.
His gaze stayed consistent on your chest, residing long enough to have you feeling so desperately needy for him. . . but, eventually, his eyes moved up to your face.
You missed his stare on your body as soon as it was gone.
“You’re so fucking—goddamn,” he breathed, his expression still dazed. But, now it was from more than alcohol. Maybe not from alcohol at all. “Do you know how good you look carrying my baby?”
Your head became a flurried mess at his words, the feeling carrying all the way down to your toes.
“Jake,” you tried, not sure what else to say besides his name.
But he didn’t respond with words. No, all he did was walk closer to you, still half-dressed. Seeing so much of his body made you feel so utterly pathetic for him.
In a split second, before you could even wrap your mind around it, his hands found your waist. A soft, yet firm hold of your body. His eyes were locked on your parted lips, his face slowly leaning in and coming dangerously close to your own.
And just as he was with you, your eyes found his lips, plush and wet from his tongue gliding over them. So kissable. All you wanted, all you needed, was to feel them collide with yours. To taste him again, to savor the sweetness that you knew to be Jake.
He was so close that you could smell the bitter remnants of alcohol on his breath. His breath, that felt so warm against your flushed skin. You couldn’t help it as you slowly let yourself lean into him. All too well, you knew how wrong it was. . . Yet, you were having the worst time finding it within yourself to care any longer.
Amber-brown eyes flicked up to yours, golden flecks glowing from the dim yellow lamp lighting. Your own eyes were wide under your fluttering lashes.
The drunkenness wasn’t as prevalent in his stare as it had been before. This felt so eerily intimate — like it had happened before. You couldn’t fucking shake the feeling this moment was giving you. The dim lighting. Him so close to you—tempting you. . .
For some reason, your eyes fluttered down between the two of you to your small, rounded tummy.
Jake’s lips brushed your forehead with the action, his hand coming to tuck hair behind your ear.
Your belly—it was nestled so well in the middle of your bodies, brushing up against his firm stomach. Protected.
And then a memory, clear now, came rushing back to you. It was coming out of the shadows, having been foggy and faded, but not anymore.
The only place to go was your room, your door ajar just enough that it opened easily on its own. Jake had reached a hand behind him to close it gently– not wanting to wake anyone.
Your lamp, still left on, just as it had been earlier in the evening, shed the perfect amount of golden glow.
You’d grabbed his face, pulling him away from you momentarily to appreciate his features. Finally out of the dark you could look at him.
And, God, you loved his face. Everything about it, having been so intricately and delicately created — making the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on.
A quiet smirk had graced Jake’s perfect lips, his eyes tightly locked with yours.
“What’s the matter?” He’d asked, his hushed, now-sultry voice making your need for him that much more heightened.
You thought a moment before you answered.
With all of your feelings for him finally becoming realized in your own mind, there was just so much you felt you needed to say. So much you needed him to know.
As you’d stared in his sparkling eyes, pupils pure black from the weed and his need for you, the only word your mind could conjure up was love. Over and over again. Not just the word, but the feeling; the new desire for him that went far beyond the purely physical one that you’d tried so hard to convince yourself of.
But it wasn’t new; it had been clear all along. You’d just shoved it down to the deepest trenches of your mind, only to be discovered by the most skilled explorer.
There was so much you had wanted to say, but you just couldn’t conjure the proper words.
You decided your body could do all the talking. It could say more than your voice ever could.
“Nothing,” you’d whispered against his lips as you pulled him in for the deepest kiss you were certain the two of you had ever shared with one another.
You gasped as you looked up at him. The night you’d conceived—.
“Y/n, sweet girl,” Jake’s smoky voice brought your attention back to the situation. You let your body melt into his even more, needing him near.
The reality of it all suddenly began to set in when his hands, slow and steady in their pace, moved up your waist. Strong hands now moving under your shirt, set in their direction of ascension. They came to a steady stop just beneath the curve of your tender breasts.
“You know,” he breathed, breath washing over your lips. You blinked up at him, at his mercy. “I wanna do so much more than just hold your pretty tits,” he whispered, his lips brushing ever so lightly against yours. “How do they feel?”
“H-heavy,” you stuttered, shivering against his touch while his thumbs met at your sternum, tracing delicate patterns.
His palms suddenly dropped from beneath your shirt. You sucked in a breath, whining as your breasts pushed out for more. Your skin begged for his touch, on fire for him.
Before long, though, his hands came back to their spot over the fabric of the t-shirt this time.
And, over your shirt, he cupped as much of your chest as he could, keeping you in his hold as he gently massaged.
Stars. You saw so many stars.
“But, not—not as sore tonight,” you sighed, settling into his grasp. There were no worries evident to you right now.
All that mattered was Jake and his searing hot touch.
You felt him smile as close as he was, his lips almost connecting with yours as you fought back every desire to kiss him. “Yeah?” He whispered again, raspier, while his thumbs lightly grazed your hardened nipples through your shirt, your breath catching in your throat. “What do you need right now, baby?”
The moan that escaped your lips should have been embarrassing. But it wasn’t. Not at all. It fit quite well with the way his fingers continued in their path over your nipples, circling them. He was stealing every bit of air left in your lungs, making your eyes roll back in your head.
“Tell me, baby,” he growled, lips touching yours with each word.
Closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip, you answered silently. You, Jake. I fucking need you.
He returned to his grip underneath your breasts, over the shirt still, cradling them so well. . . Your body just fit with his. The touch of his hands cured even the most uncomfortable changes in your body.
You whined, not able to help the effect he was having on you and your aching body. “Jake, I need–.” Fuck.
No. This was wrong. He was drunk. Odds were, he wouldn’t remember this. You were the one letting it happen, letting it get much further than it should have.
“Tell me, y/n,” he repeated, brushing his thumbs once again over your taut nipples with more intent this time as your body began to tremble. “Tell me what I can do for you–.”
“I’m hungry,” you muttered out of nowhere, shaking your head as you effectively interrupted him. You pulled away, getting yourself out of another situation that could turn sticky real fast. (Yes, pun intended.)
And you really were very hungry. Hadn’t eaten for hours. So, it was the perfect mood killer.
“O-oh, yeah,” he breathily spoke, eyebrows dipping in just a bit as he dropped his stare. His long hair waved out around his shoulders when he shook his head. The sound of inebriated haziness was evident in his tone still, but you could tell he was quickly coming back to himself.
And that also terrified you. The moment just now. . . Had that brought him back? You’d seen his eyes brighten when you’d leaned into him.
He went to move past you, his body nearly meeting yours. You put out a hand, millimeters away from his heaving chest. But you couldn’t touch him yet. Not yet. Had to clear your mind.
“Want me to make something for you?” He wondered, sounding ready to help even amidst his tipsy state.
“I can do it,” you assured him with a small sigh and grin. “I’m capable.”
“You sure?”
“More than.”
Your eyes held one another’s for a heavy minute. He was trying to make sure you were being honest, you could tell.
You just encouraged him to believe your statement with a little pat to his warm, bare chest. Shit.
You had to go. Get out of the room. Make some damn food.
But he was right there. . .
No.
You quickly took your hand away before he could do something like hold it there. He didn’t get the chance, thanks to your reflexes.
Your hands interlocked under your belly as you peeked up at him through your lashes. “I promise. I do things for myself all the time. Please let me.”
“You don’t have to ask for–,” hiccup, the sobriety still not fully present. He held a fist over his mouth, trying to be polite. Your smile met your eyes, so gone for him. . . “For my permission, y/n. Seriously. I just want to help you however I–,” hiccup, his eyes bugged a little. The giggle that came from you couldn’t be stopped. “ I can. Jesus.”
“Go to sleep,” you tried, wracking your brain for the best possible plan for him to feel better. “I’ll be okay.”
“Nah. Not yet. Wanna take a shower first,” he iterated, eyebrows drawn together with the sureness of his plan. “It’ll help.”
“Okay,” you smiled, inhaling a breath before shaking your head and moving to open his door.
Rather than letting you get it, he raised his arm above your head, holding the door to do the job himself. You watched as he opened it wider, seeing his bicep flex with the action above your head. He’d opened it just enough for you to exit.
You connected eyes with his, looking at him over your shoulder.
The grin that lifted your features occurred on its own. Everything he did was making you swoon. The fucker.
He snickered a bit at you, his teeth coming to show past his pretty lips. Dimples fully present with his knowing smile. “Go eat,” he motioned with his other hand before stepping towards you, planning to exit behind you. “My baby momma needs sustenance.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
About forty-five minutes passed.
You’d eaten an entire box of macaroni and cheese. The noodles and yellow-y, plastic cheese weren’t making you want to gag anymore. Thank god, because it really was quite delicious.
Now, to wash your dishes and go to bed.
You’d just heard the shower shut off about ten minutes prior to the moment you heard footsteps approach in the doorway to the kitchen.
Jake.
“Will you come sleep with me?”
You spun to give him a questioning look from over your shoulder that held a million questions.
“Wh-what?” You stilled your task of washing the bowl you’d had your quick meal of macaroni and cheese in.
But, now, you weren’t thinking of mac and cheese. No, now you were thinking of what he just said.
When you’d looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes stuck naturally on the man standing at the doorway of the kitchen. The gesture that was meant to be quick, definitely turning into a whole-ass Jake Appreciation Fest.
Just like earlier that evening, there he was. Shocking every nerve in your system.
Pajama pants, slung low on his hips. . . his handsomely tanned and toned chest, still bare. His wet hair, laying on his pecs, dripping water onto each muscle. The drops of water made their way down his hard nipples, probably chilly from his shower, down his sculpted obliques and solid abdomen. . .
. . . And down, past the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. Your favorite ones.
The pursuit you took with your line of sight was unstoppable. You had to know if he was wearing them. . . And, to your complete gladness, you saw just enough of an outline of him as he leaned his weight on one foot. . . That was all it took to know. . .
“No, I’m not wearing underwear,” he smugly remarked.
His tone and words made your heart flutter and your cheeks become the deepest shade of crimson. Fuck. He’d caught you.
Deciding to ignore his little remark, you went back to washing the dish, still being held over the sink. In a much looser grip thanks to his comment. Gripping the dish tighter, you put all of your spinning nerves into washing it properly. You fumbled a little, but hoped he didn’t notice.
“What did you mean before? About sleeping together?” You tried, working to maintain enough attention on the dish that you wouldn’t drop it against the sink and break the thin Corelle.
“Just sleep,” he emphasized with a chuckle, sounding more and more like himself the longer he stood there. “Nothing more. Cross my heart.”
“Oh,” you offered lamely, heart thumping a hundred miles an hour in your chest, boobs suddenly aching for. . . Fuck.
Why was he asking you to simply sleep with him? What the hell?
God. . .
Should you? Was it a good idea? Well, no. You could answer that. It wasn’t a good idea. At all.
But. . . should you go lay with him? Maybe fall asleep in his arms. . . Would it help you sleep easier after your short, uneasy rest from earlier in the evening?
Shit.
You knew the answer. Knew the answer very well. Even before EMDR, when the bad dreams would occur, they were always better – tamed, happy, or gone completely – when you slept in the same bed as Jake.
“Yeah,” you said, not taking any more time to contemplate. “I will.”
“Alright,” he replied, sounding relieved behind you. Why did he sound so happy? Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. He still had alcohol in his system. That explained it.
You rinsed the rest of the bubbles from the bowl when you heard him speak up again.
“Want me to wash it?”
“N-no,” you stuttered nervously and shook your head, focusing on the sudsy dish. “I’ve got it.”
“Okay. You full? Get enough to eat?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” he answered, the smile evident in his tone. “Don’t take too long.”
“I won’t,” you reassured, willing your pulse to return to normal.
And, seconds later, you were hearing his footfalls against the carpet as he made his way back to his room.
Well.
Finishing the job of the bowl, – taking much longer than needed – you contemplated.
You guessed his tone was still a little wavy, but you knew better than to think he was still drunk.
He definitely wasn’t.
Had the shower helped that much? Had it been the moment in his room? Both combined?
After the equally clean saucepan was put away in the drawer below the oven, you dragged your feet a bit more as you went to check on Stevie and put some more food in her dish. When her tail swished across your calves, you felt a bit of calmness return to you.
Your heart was still thrumming in your chest. But you were able to slow your thoughts down enough to feel more at peace as you took notice of yourself in your full-body mirror.
Damn. . .oooo-kay, y/n. . .
Why did you suddenly feel completely confident in your body? You turned, getting every angle.
It just felt so great to not doubt your appearance. It was just like last Monday. You could get used to this feeling.
Your boobs looked fantastic and big under your gray t-shirt, nipples peaked as they most-often were these days. Your ass looked perfectly rounded out from the way it peeked out of your soft shirt. . . And, lifting your t-shirt, you looked at the little bump of your tummy.
The best addition to the entire look. Your grin was natural as you admired your baby. . .
Your tummy was growing steadily as you still sat on the bigger side of pregnant bellies. Your bump wasn’t a little subtle thing. No, it was an obviously pregnant belly.
Small, but definitely still noticeable. And it was just cute as hell.
After rubbing a gentle hand over the expanse of skin on your belly, you pulled your shirt back down over it.
And with a final fluff of your hair, you grabbed your Stanley from the nightstand before making your way to where you’d find sleep tonight.
You were just going to get good rest for your baby. It was for the baby.
That was what you worked to convince yourself of as you walked with quiet purpose to his bedroom.
-🌼🌼🌼-
“Why did you come home?”
You were laying in his bed. Just like old times.
Except, in the past, where you would’ve most likely been naked, you were not tonight.
Everything else though? Same as always.
Your legs were tied into his, looped around his just right, playing footsie with him beneath the covers. Your head rested on his bare chest, your hand underneath your cheek as it laid so perfectly well on his exquisitely strapped pecs.
Oh, also. . . One more thing different than before: the bump. The baby, tucked snugly against his side where you were turned into him.
It was heaven. That was what it was.
A yawn emitted from deep in his chest. You knew sleep was finding him faster than you would’ve liked. Naturally, a little yawn found you as well.
Sighing heavily to follow the yawn, you felt his hand that laid above you come to comb through the strands of your hair. “I don’t like being away from you.”
Your heartbeat was heavy in your ears – did your best to ignore it.
“Was Maya mad?”
“Yeah.”
“Jake,” you scolded, for no reason. You didn’t give two shits about how she felt. But. . . you did care about his happiness – didn’t want to ruin his relationship when it made him feel happy and whole.
“She’ll get over it,” he reassured with another yawn that lifted your cheek with his rising chest. “She was drunker than I was.”
“Are you still drunk?” You pondered aloud with a yawn and a giggle, naturally emitting in his presence.
But. . . you knew better. Didn’t even have to ask. It just made all of this more understandable if he were to still be drunk. It made this easier to submit to.
You didn’t know why the prospect of simply laying beside him was harder to come to terms with than having his dick in your mouth. Just like it’d been a week ago.
Your cheeks heated at the thought. Of its own volition, your thigh came to momentarily graze past his crotch.
“Not really,” he answered, sounding a touch offended that you’d even asked. “Pretty sober now, honestly.”
The more coherent he sounded, the more intimidated you became. . .
Best to let him find sleep. You’d answer to this in the morning. . . For now, your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the moment.
“I believe you,” you settled with a contented yawn of your own, nestling into his chest. Couldn’t help it. Had to be closer.
You blinked, slower and slower. So sleepy — just felt so right in his arms. His hand came to hold the base of your skull as a thumb traced your head so lightly.
Goosebumps rose on your skin from his precious gesture. . . It felt so damn incredible.
“You should,” he iterated, his lips coming to meet the crown of your head, giving you a feather-light kiss.
And, within a minute, he was lightly snoring.
It took almost no time at all for you to follow him to slumber.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Just like you would’ve guessed, the bad dreams didn’t come that night.
. . .Because Jake made everything better. That was just it.
-🌼🌼🌼-
December 16, 2022
As you sat in the waiting room, you surveyed him and noticed he wasn’t wearing the Medusa medallion. The newer one you’d noticed on Monday.
“No Medusa?” You questioned, at a decent enough volume to not disturb the few other mothers and fathers in the waiting room. He flicked his amber-brown gaze over to you, caught in a trance by the beautiful, light decor of the clinic.
Once he looked at you, his eyebrows only dipped at your words, not understanding. You motioned to his neck with a slight flick of your wrist. “Your Medusa medallion. I noticed it the other night.”
He snorted, lips quirking in a small grin with a shake of his head. “That was a stupid gift I got from Maya’s little sister,” he explained, scratching the back of his head.
“Jake,” you disciplined his words, but you couldn’t help the tiny giggle that slipped past your lips. It was kind of funny that he found it stupid.
“What?!” He turned to you, a full smile on his face. You raised a faux disappointed brow at him and he contended that with his next remark, “Okay, yes, I know I shouldn’t call it stupid. Maya said it’s because of her sister’s little crush on me. . . But it was kind of funny that she showed up with it at her birthday party, for one,” he explained, crossing his legs at the knee. “And for two, Medusa? A Greek goddess? Since when is that my primary interest?”
You shrugged at that, a small smile stuck to your features. He was adorable.
He continued on, “For some reason, Maya struggles to differentiate between pirates and mythology. . . and no matter how many times I explain they’re different, she doesn’t catch on to it.”
He shook his head, tousling a hand through his long, wavy hair as he placed the other hand on his knee. His rings weren’t present today, so you got to truly appreciate the curvatures of his tanned, masculine hands.
“You should still acknowledge that Maya’s sister’s–what’s her name?”
“Kaia. K-a-i-a. . . Different from Maya’s by two letters. Sound the same, though,” he snickered.
Kaia and Maya. . . so they’re a rhyming name family. For some reason, the thought made you snort a laugh, a grin claiming your lips.
“I know,” Jake said, a little humorous in his own tone. “Kaia and Maya. Can we agree to not name our kids rhyming names?”
Our kids? As in, more than the one in your belly?
You took note of him and his reaction to his mistake, watched the way his eyes continued scanning the walls of the white and blush waiting room.
He seemed to not notice his mess up, still going about his business as usual. His foot tapped against the bamboo flooring to the beat of the classic rock radio station playing.
You decided to ignore his words. It had been a slip up. Just like your own slip up in the car the other day.
You, speaking of love.
Jake, mentioning multiple kids.
You both were just in a state of stress with the life change. . . it wasn’t anything. Just a couple mis-worded moments.
You continued on, looking down at your belly briefly, smoothing your hands down your sweater to flatten any weird lines. “. . .Kaia’s sentiment was kind. Her little crush is sweet,” you iterated, sounding more like a mom everyday. “I hope you told her thank you.”
He chuckled, raspy and light, at you. Switching your line of sight up to him, you saw his eyes read a sense of fondness as he cast his gaze on you.
“I did,” he smirked, winking at you. Your tummy fluttered with butterflies. “You are going to be a fantastic mom, y/n. I’ve known it for a long time and I know it more and more with your little coaching moments.”
Your heart went crazy at the thought of him imagining you as a fantastic mother. And he’d known it for a long time? How long? What did that mean?
“Thanks, Jake,” you blushed a light pink, matching the colors of the crepe walls. There was one more thing you wanted to say though.
“However,” you cleared your throat, glancing at him momentarily from the corner of your eye. He was heeding you, brow arched as he waited for your next words.
“I can’t say anything to excuse Maya’s non-acknowledgment at the obvious contrasts of pirates and mythology. They are two completely different beasts,” you emphasized, turning your full attention to him. He was still watching you. The flush was back in your cheeks. “I’ve seen enough of your documentaries about pirates and I’m an English major, for God’s sake. . . so I know these things.”
The way his features brightened was precious – like he was being seen.
And he was seen. He would always be seen if you had anything to say about it.
Also, you did know the difference, you weren’t lying. None of what you said was a lie. You’d said what you did because you needed him to know that you understood. His interests mattered to you and they should to Maya as well. They should matter to her more-so.
The moment was cut off quite quickly, though, as you were hearing your name being called to the back for your appointment.
You were about to see your baby again. With Jake. And you’d know by the end of the hour if it was a boy or girl. . .
The blood was pumping in your ears as Jake fell in step beside you on the way to the back. You smiled up at him, where you were met with his sparkling eyes. Both of you were obviously giddy with eagerness and excitement.
Your thoughts were filled with everything that was to come. All sunshine and pale colors – so much love.
Here we go. . .
-🌼🌼🌼-
a/n: ...i wonder if you can guess the name/gender after this chapter part... ;) see you soon (next part is almost finished, my loves) :) feel free to always come to my ask box or message box! i'm always down to talk when my adhd/anxiety doesn't attack me <3
ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts! love youuuu <3
& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)
Fill this form out if you'd like to join my taglist! <3
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, @builtbybrokenbells, @stardustjake, @indigostreaksolo, @tripthelightfantastix, @kiszkas-canvas, @jakebrainrot, @anthemheatwave
#jake kiszka x reader#jake kiszka fic#jake kiszka fanfic#jake fic#my fics#covet#chapter 11 might be a top three fav chapter for me...#part 3 is when some shit goes downnn#ruh roh#hehe
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
Swapped (part 2)
Incredibles au power swap pt. 2! Checking in on some of the other boys, who are... struggling lol.
Part 1 | Next (coming soon)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hyrule woke up feeling cold.
A shiver went through him as he slowly came back to awareness, the cold feeling sinking into his very bones, and he wondered why whatever he was lying on was so hard and uncomfortable.
Why did his chest hurt? Why was he so cold? He hadn’t woken up like this since...
Since...
Panic smacked into him, and Hyrule‘s eyes flew open, his heart thudding as he looked around. He took in the unfamiliar walls around him, piles of rubble and dirt, and right as his heart began to pound with fear, he saw Time waking up, a hand held to his chest.
Hyrule sighed in relief, and carefully sat up himself, immediately feeling better. If dad was here, he wasn’t back on the streets, or... worse.
But... that didn’t really answer the question of where he actually was.
Before Hyrule could try and figure it out though, someone let out a panicked gasp. Hyrule jumped and turned around, and saw Wild sitting on the ground a few feet away, looking on the verge of hysterical.
“I’m— I’m slow,” Wild choked out, and Hyrule blinked in confusion as he watched Twilight stumble to his feet beside him, a hand held to his head.
“Wild, it’s all right,” Twilight said, taking a step, then yelped as he somehow went running across the room and straight into a wall. “Ow!”
“You took my speed!” Wild wailed, and Hyrule stared, watching as Twilight tried to get to his feet, but fell over again when his legs went too fast for him. He did a quick glance around the hallway, not seeing anyone else apart from his two brothers and dad. If he had to guess, the rest of his family was probably blocked off by the wall that had collapsed.
...Which had collapsed because of a weird explosion that had also knocked them all out. Right. Now he remembered.
Time properly sat up and looked at Wild and Twilight, his face creased with concern... and a little pain, Hyrule thought. Wild stopped yelling when he saw their dad move, but he still looked panicked, and it seemed like Twilight was afraid to move, his expression confused and fearful.
“Boys what is going on?” Time asked, and Twilight wrapped his arms around himself.
“I don’t know, I woke up and couldn’t hear barely anything and then Wild started yelling and somehow I have his speed and I can’t turn into a wolf,” he said rapidly, clutching at his hair.
“And now I don’t have anything!” Wild added, looking on the verge of tears.
Hyrule blinked, and an even colder feeling ran through him as he digested that. It looked like the explosion had done more than just collapse the wall and knock them out... it had also messed up Wild and Twilight’s powers.
...were they the only ones?
Hyrule quickly drew on his own powers, just to reassure himself nothing was wrong with them. He tried healing first, summoning a blue glow to his hands, but then the icy feeling that had been with him even since he’d woken up suddenly intensified, and Hyrule‘s stomach lurched.
The blue glow was the wrong color.
He tried again, more frantically, but the blue continued to be the wrong color, cold instead of the usual warm, and ice began to spread out from where Hyrule sat, only increasing his panic. Trying to shield brought up no results either, and Hyrule drew desperately on the strange cold power he could feel inside of him, trying to make it heal, to make it shield, do anything it was supposed to be doing.
All he could produce was ice.
Hyrule gasped, trying to stay calm, but not succeeding in the slightest at keeping back the wave of panic that was crashing over him.
What was happening? Anything he tried just kept turning into ice, shielding didn’t work, healing didn’t work, his...
His powers were gone.
The one thing he’d been able to rely on his entire life.
Hyrule felt his breath pick up, his heart pounding as more ice spread out from him. He wouldn’t be able to shield people anymore, protect himself and others from danger, he couldn’t heal, he wouldn’t be able to do anything if he or anyone else got hurt, all he could make was ice and ice and ice—
“Hyrule,” a voice said, and Hyrule looked up and saw his father had joined his side, a worried look on his face.
“Dad— I can’t— I can’t get my shield up,” Hyrule managed to choke out, clutching at his hair. “And my healing, it’s not working, it’s just ice—”
“Hyrule calm down,” Time reassured, holding out a hand.
“Why— why is it doing this, I— wait, don’t touch me! I’ll freeze you!” Hyrule choked as his father kneeled beside him, and Time ignored his words, taking his hands in his own.
They felt... warm.
“Hyrule, I’ve dealt with Warriors’ powers more times than I can count, you won’t freeze me. Calm down,” Time continued, and Hyrule’s brain stuck for a second on the phrasing. Warriors’ powers? “Focus on reining them in. It should be like your own powers, just a little different. Relax.”
Hyrule sucked in a deep breath, thinking slowly through Time’s words and trying to do what he said. He carefully pulled on the strange powers he had, trying to make the cold ease back and stop escaping from him like a leaky faucet, and the ice began to slow in its spread.
Encouraged by the results, he focused a littler harder, and the ice stalled as he took in more deep breaths, finally tamping his panic down to something more manageable. The ice had stopped, and he felt a little less cold as his hands stopped glowing.
The lack of warmth in his middle from both his powers was still terrifying, but Hyrule thought he could... work with it now.
...Maybe.
Hyrule let out one last shaky exhale, and Time squeezed his shoulder, Hyrule leaning into it and feeling much calmer.
“...thanks Dad,” he sighed, and Time nodded.
He stayed next to him for another few moments, letting him continue to calm down, but then Twilight yelped again, and Time drew back with a sigh. He pulled his hand off of Hyrule’s shoulder, but as he drew back, Hyrule let out a startled squeak.
Everything below his father’s elbow was missing.
Time jumped, a truly shocked look on his face, but before he could do anything, his fingers flickered back into view like they’d never been gone at all.
Hyrule and Time both stared at them, and Hyrule watched as Time’s arm abruptly faded out of view again, appearing and disappearing at random.
“You... have Legend’s invisibility?” he said hesitantly, beginning to get an idea of what might be going on, and his father slowly nodded, staring intensely at his hand. Whatever he was trying to do didn’t seem to work though, and he sighed, standing up and helping Hyrule stand as well.
“It looks like it. And you have Warriors’ ice, and Twilight has Wild’s speed,” Time said, and winced as Twilight tripped and landed on his face. “Twilight?”
“Fine,” his son called back weakly, and Time led Hyrule over to where Wild was still sitting in a mild panic.
He patted the both of them on the shoulder, looking into their eyes for a moment, then walked over to Twilight. Wild looked nearly as shaken as Hyrule felt, if not more, but he merely leaned against Hyrule’s arm, Hyrule leaning on him in return.
Looking at how unsettled Wild appeared, Hyrule wasn’t sure if he’d prefer having the ice he currently had, or the nothing Wild seemed to posses.
“Come on Twilight, you can stand,” Time said as he walked away, and Hyrule and Wild both watched him. Twilight was sitting up, but he still looked afraid to move, his face anxious. “You can do it.”
“I’ll just trip again! Why am I so fast all of a sudden? I don’t want Wild’s speed, I can barely hear anything like this or smell anything and I can’t turn into a wolf!” he said rapidly, and Time slowly helped him up.
“I believe our enemy decided to test something on us,” Time said, and Hyrule thought back to what the voice on the intercom had said. That would explain the test subject thing. “And if I'm right... somehow he switched around our powers.”
“But that’s not possible,” Wild spoke up as Time carefully guided Twilight over to them, “you can’t just... switch powers! That’d be like me and Hyrule randomly switching heads!”
“Well somehow he’s done it,” Twilight grimaced.
“And we’ll probably have to stop him to get our proper powers back,” Time sighed, watching as his fingers disappeared from view again.
Hyrule looked around at his family, more then half of them missing from the room, Twilight pale with anxiety, Wild still unhappy about being slow, random bits of their father occasionally disappearing from view.
This... just got a lot more complicated.
Wild looked at Time’s arms, watching as they randomly faded in and out of view, and a grin suddenly stretched across his face, wide and mischievous.
“Dad, did you get both of Legend’s powers?” he asked, and Hyrule and Twilight both turned to look at him as well, Hyrule unable to stop his smile as he realized what he meant.
“I have no idea. And even if I did, I’m not testing it right now,” he said dryly, and Wild and Hyrule both made disappointed noises. “Sorry boys. We need to focus on fixing this mess.”
“Have you tried to contact anyone yet?” Twilight asked, and Time shook his head, pulling out his communication device.
“That’s what I was on to next. I think it’s safe to say everyone’s powers got messed up, so it’s unlikely Artemis is going to come find us.”
“Unless whoever got her powers does,” Wild pointed out, and Twilight shook his head.
“I doubt it. We can barely control the ones we got. I mean, if I’d gotten intangibility, I don’t think I would want to test it by trying to walk through a collapsed wall.”
Hyrule winced. That was a good point. It probably wouldn’t end well if whoever got Artemis’s powers couldn’t use them very well, and accidentally came back in the middle of the wall.
Time busied himself with trying to get his radio working, and Twilight did his best to help him, his leg jittering so rapidly it blurred a bit. Hyrule looked back at Wild, his brother looking miserable, then ignored the urge to shiver as he drew his knees up to his chest.
Why did Warriors’ powers have to be so cold? He thought his uncle had said that the cold didn’t even bother him, why was Hyrule so freezing?
Why couldn't they just be straight-forward like mine?
Hyrule sighed and glanced back at Wild again, frowning when he saw his expression had dimmed even further while he watched Twilight’s leg jitter rapidly in place.
“Are you alright Wild?” Hyrule asked, and Wild shrugged, making the face he made when he was trying to appear unbothered.
“Yeah. I’m fine. You’re... kinda pale though,” he said, looking over Hyrule. "You okay?"
Hyrule shrugged, trying not to look as shaken as he still felt. He knew Wild probably just wanted to help, but he was pretty sure if he thought about his switched-up-also-missing powers too long he’d cry.
Wild somehow read his expression though, and after a moments hesitation, put his arm around Hyrule’s shoulder, giving him a little squeeze.
“It’ll be okay,” Wild said. “We’ll figure it out, Roolie.”
And for some reason Hyrule believed him, the words like a warm blanket on his still-shaky nerves. He near-immediately relaxed, and Wild looked at him in surprise as he leaned on him more, before realization flirted across his face.
“Oh. I got Mom’s,” he said, and Hyrule looked at him weirdly.
“Huh?”
“I got Mom’s powers. You know, she has her whole horse-soothing voice she uses, it’s really good at calming down horses and other animals. I... guess it also works on people?” Wild said hesitantly. “At least I think that’s what that was.”
Hyrule blinked, not sure how he felt about that. But for some reason the thought didn’t seem too worrying, so he shrugged, and set his head on Wild’s shoulder. He was nice and warm, and helped chase away some of the chill.
“Guess so. We’ll have to find a horse so you can test it,” Hyrule murmured, and Wild let out a quiet laugh.
A sigh caught their attentions, and the two looked over at Time and Twilight, both of their face grim.
“No luck,” Time said as he put his radio away with a frown. “It's being blocked. Looks like we’re on our own for now.”
“We should try and find the others then, right?” Twilight asked. “Because not to underestimate us right now, but uh... I don’t know if we can take on this scientist guy in the state we’re in.”
“I could,” Wild said with a bite to his voice. “I’m going to punch that jerk right in the mouth for taking my speed.”
“We were all headed for the top floor when we were ambushed, we’ll continue heading that way,” Time decided, rolling his shoulder. “The others will doubtlessly be working their way that direction as well, so we’ll try to meet up with them on the way. Are you all good to go?” he asked, looking at Twilight and Hyrule especially.
Hyrule nodded, and Twilight glared at his feet, then sighed.
“Yeah. I can walk.”
“Good. Let’s get going then,” Time said with a nod.
And as he took a step forward, he was suddenly doused in shadows.
Everyone jumped, and Hyrule stared as the shadows grew smaller, condensing most intensely by the floor. He had a brief moment of panic before he recognized what the shadows meant, and he froze, exchanging quick glances with his siblings.
The shadows faded away mere moments later, and a small, one-eyed rabbit was left sitting dazedly on the ground.
Hyrule, Wild, and Twilight stared.
Then Wild fell to the floor laughing, and Hyrule bit his lip to stop his own from escaping, the rabbit that was now their father twitching his nose in alarm. He shouldn’t laugh, he really shouldn’t, but Time was so small, and fluffy, and seeing his father as a rabbit of all things was just...
Hyrule couldn’t help his giggle, and Twilight knelt beside Time, their father swiveling his ears in his direction and giving him a wide-eyed look.
“Are you, um, okay Dad?” Twilight asked, his mouth twitching, and Time blinked once or twice, before letting out a rather squeaky sigh.
“I’m fine. Come on, the sooner we fix this the better,” he grumbled, voice slightly squeaky, and began hopping in the direction they’d planned to go in.
Wild finally stopped laughing, though it was a close thing when he saw Time hopping determinedly across the floor. Twilight followed after their father, and Hyrule and Wild trailed behind, Wild still letting out an occasional giggle.
"I guess that answers the question of whether he has both of Legend's powers," he snickered, and Hyrule shook his head in disbelief. This day couldn't get any weirder.
Twilight lifted Time up to sit on his shoulder after only a minute or two of walking, their father's face surprisingly grim for a rabbit, and Hyrule glanced at them, anxiety still churning in his stomach.
He still felt a little shaky and unsure from the shock of his powers being gone, worried for the rest of their group, and Time being a mostly-defenseless rabbit only added another layer to that. But Wild seemed confident, and Twilight and Time were both putting on brave faces, so Hyrule decided he would be too.
They could do this. They’d stop the scientist guy, and make him fix this.
Screwed up powers or not.
And Hyrule kept telling himself that, even when Twilight lost control of his legs again and smacked into a wall mere moments later.
#part three coming eventually! hopefully soon#incredibles au#incredibles au fic#linkeduniverse#linked universe#lu hyrule#lu wild#lu time#lu twilight#fic#IAU hyrule#IAU wild#IAU time#IAU twilight#writing from the floor#everyone is struggling so bad#can i ever write iau hyrule in a rough situation without giving him a panic attack? ehhhh#Wild's doing reasonably ok#twilight... not so much#and yes i did that to time on purpose. i mean i HAD to.#the image was just too powerful
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Pick a Tail Number and We Could Be Tourists
CHAPTER SUMMARY: you're stranded out of town and it's all Megumi's fault. Time to find a hotel to crash in!
boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro
WARNINGS : 18+, alcohol consumption, arguing, name calling, strong language lmao, PG chapter tbh!
WORDS : 9.2k
notes : dangerously close to running out of old chapters to edit and repost LOL
LAST CHAPTER ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER
—
Megumi didn’t wait for you as he re-entered the aquarium and you had to work double time to keep up with his brisk strides.
He said that you should go inside together so you could figure out this mess you found yourselves in; and yet it sure feels like he’s trying to leave you behind.
He only slows down when he starts to text, which of course, piques your interest. It’s probably his dad or his sister, letting them know what happened and asking for a ride. He comes to a complete stop as you arrive at the café. Megumi pulls out a chair, he intended it to be for himself, but when he looks up and notices your worried gaze, he gestures it to you and takes another seat.
You must look terrified if even Megumi is showing you that much kindness.
“Are you texting Toji?” you ask him, and he scoffs immediately.
“No? Why would I?”
“Because we are fucking stranded and you said we were going to plan what we are going to do!” you whisper-shout at him, doing all you can to remain level-headed and keep your fury to a minimum. You’re so overwhelmed and angry you know the smallest push will have you freefalling into tears.
“I’m gonna call that asshole teacher of ours and see if they can turn around.” Megumi tells you, scrolling through his phone until he lands on your lecturer’s phone number. You hear a faint ringing through the speaker again and again. A vision of rage flares across Megumi’s features as the ringing goes to voicemail.
“Call Toji!” you demand. It prompts Megumi to kiss his teeth and roll his eyes to look at you, he studies your body language and expression, and he has to hold back a smile when he sees how serious you are. “Or I will.” the threat causes Megumi’s vague amusement to fade into annoyance as he adjusts his seating position to sit up straight.
“Go on then.” he challenges, moodily. He rests his ankle over his knee and slouches more in his seat, avoiding eye contact with you as he proceeds to play on his phone and ignore the gravity of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You tut, quickly finding Toji’s name in your contacts and dialling.
Ring… Ring… Ring…
“What did he do?” he huffs, answering the phone sounding a little out of breath.
“N-Nothing, Toji. Well he, I guess he—“
“What? What’s going on, princess?”
Megumi’s eyes are burning into yours as he warns you to choose your next words carefully. Part of you wants to protect him; you aren’t sure if it’s out of guilt for your tattling earlier this morning or if it’s out of fear for what he’ll do to you. Your mouth hangs open as you consider, and then turns to a smile that you’ll hope Toji will hear through the phone.
“He’s been fine. But, uh, we missed the bus home.”
“Was it his fault?”
“W-Well, umm…”
“Just tell me sweetheart. Was it his fault you missed the bus?” he questions, a stern, authoritative tone in his speech. You do all you can to remain composed and not expose yourself to Megumi. A small little gulp travels down your throat as you find the confidence to croak out a singular word.
“Technically…”
“Put him on.”
“But—”
“Put him on the phone right now.”
He’s never spoken to you like that before. It was a condensed version of how you hear him address Megumi. You quickly hand the phone to his son and hear a quiet ‘for fuck sake’ under his breath as he presses your phone to his ear.
He looks cute, you think, with a pink love heart phone case on the side of his head. With this and the colouring book, you’re starting to think he’s not all bad.
Maybe he even has a softer side.
He at least has a sort of nice side if today is anything to go by.
You’re brought out of your soft ideation as you see a vein bulge against Megumi’s temple and his teeth grit whilst his father screams bloody murder at him down the phone. Even without speaker phone turned on, you can still hear him.
“Enough!” Megumi bites back, finally, and Toji actually pipes down once he hears his son snap. “Can you come get us or not?” he hisses through his teeth. His eyes bulge open as he hears a response he hadn’t expected. “What do you mean no? Where the fuck are you right now? It’s loud.”
“I mean no, shithead. I’ll talk to you about it later, I can’t get you though. I’m sorry, kid. Tsumiki is at work too so she can’t.” Toji tells him. Megumi sighs and shakes his head in your direction. It’s odd, considering Toji said he’d drop anything and everything to rescue you if needed be. But you suppose things happen, life gets in the way, it can’t be helped. You know he would if he could. “Give her the phone back.”
He does, holding it out for you to take. He gets up, trudging towards the barista to avoid listening to whatever his father is going to say to you.
“I’m so so sorry I can’t come get you, baby. You’re a credit card kid though, right? I’ll be able to wire you the money tomorrow if you wanna get a cab back. It’s only fair I fucking pay since it’s my dumb kid's fault.”
“Three hours in a cab? I can’t, I’m not really talking to my parents right now and I’d feel obliged to if I spent that much money on their card.” you tell him. He nods, despite you being unable to see it. He understands. “Megumi’s gonna try and ring our teacher again, maybe they’ll come back for us.”
“Yeah, maybe.” he responds, “I know it isn’t ideal but… if there’s no one else, maybe you could book a hotel room for the night or something?”
“Oh! Absolutely not!” you reply. The chipper tone in your voice with such a funny answer makes him snicker down the phone. “I’ve just remembered Gojo exists, I’ll call him!” you beam, impressed with yourself as the idea strikes you.
“N-No, princess, wait—!”
“Bye Toji!” you hang up, albeit a little guiltily. But you waste no time searching your contacts for Gojo.
You jump a little when you hear the sound of glass thump against the table you’re sitting at. He got you and himself milkshakes. Banana for you and strawberry for him. There’s something quite endearing about Megumi and the colour pink.
“Thanks. Did you know banana is my favourite or was it a guess?”
“I’m gonna try that fucking idiot teacher again.” Megumi speaks, totally ignoring your question. There’s no way he could have known it was your favourite, you’ve never told him and you doubt Yuuji had. He gets up and walks away from the table as he listens to the mind-numbing ring of his phone attempting to connect him.
Your call to Gojo is useless. His smarmy voice immediately grates on you as he asks how you got yourself in such a predicament. It only edges his theory more that you have a thing for Megumi now that you’re stuck with him. And you are stuck, since he’s also unable to help.
“Didn’t think you’d need me today so I’m out of town. How about your favourite Papaguro?” he taunts.
“He can’t. I don’t know what he’s doing but he said he can’t.” you tell him, coldly, hoping your tone of voice will quell his curiosity and put an end to his teasing.
“Oh really? How interesting. Let me talk to Megumi—”
“Goodbye, Gojo.” you cut him off before he can continue anymore. Your blood is boiling, but you manage to relax as you see a stream of texts from Toji begging you not to call Gojo.
Oops.
Megumi returns, tossing his phone onto the table. You think if he fell into his seat any harder he might have put a hole through the floor. He looks furious. A face like thunder and his arms folded across his chest. His foot begins tapping against the floor speedily, almost like a tick of some sort and soon it travels up his leg so that he’s bouncing it. You don’t stare, but you look over to him wondering when he’ll be ready to talk. He looks at you when you lean forward to sip the straw of your milkshake.
“I thought it was weird that they left without us,” he starts, copying your actions and slurping the pink liquid he purchased through his straw. “Whenever I’ve been on trips in the past. They say a certain time to be back, but they never actually leave until everyone is accounted for on the bus.”
“Right? But this isn’t like school, we’re adults. It’s university. So they don’t fuck around when it comes to this stuff, I guess.” you respond. He shakes his head though, disregarding your statement.
“I went on a trip with my old university and they waited for a bunch of mature students who were late back to the bus. Like, thirty minutes late. They don’t leave students behind on trips, ever. Unless…”
“Unless?”
“Guess what that useless excuse for an educator just told me.” Megumi smirks. You shake your head, giving up on his little game before you even begin. You see his eyes roll over white before he leans in closer to you across the table, his chest almost spilling his milkshake over. “Apparently I sent a text to those stupid ugly girls telling them that we caught a ride home from Toji. And that idiot believed them.”
“Did you?”
“What?”
“Did you text them, Megumi? Because this seems like something you’d definitely do to try and fuck with me.”
“Don’t be dense. I’m not fucking with you anymore, am I? If I was fucking with you I would have left you here alone.” he assures you. You nod, finding his explanation believable enough to dispel any doubt. You’re at least glad he isn’t angry with you for doubting him; he’s given you more than enough reasons to, after all. “How was your call with Gojo?”
“It’s a no-go,” you smile. You even manage to coax a little smirk out of Megumi as well. “He’s out of town, busy. And I assume a charming boy such as yourself doesn’t have any friends who could get us.”
“I assume the girl who pissed herself at Independent doesn’t have any friends either.” he bites back. He scrunches his eyes as soon as the words leave his mouth. Regret, you deduce. You look away from him to stop yourself from crying, and you know he won’t apologise to you for saying it.
Keep it together. Don’t let him see you cry.
“Call your parents.” Megumi demands.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I said no. I’m not fucking talking to them and you’re not going to bully me into doing it. Especially after what you just said. I cannot believe I thought—”
“Don’t fucking start. Sorry, alright? Just slipped out.” he mumbles, and you huff out a sigh. It’s a huge deal, honestly. You didn’t think he was capable of apologising. Hell, you didn’t even know he knew the word sorry. You shake your head, dismissing him and his bullshit as you try and come to terms with your situation. “No Toji or Gojo or bus coming back. No cab. No friends. What’s left, O’Keeffe?”
“I- Toji suggested something but I said no to that, too.” you hesitate to tell him. He looks at you, curiously, waiting for you to elaborate. A scoff escapes you as you recall the idea and debate on telling him or not. It can’t hurt to mention it, you suppose. “A hotel.”
“He’s smart sometimes, I’ll give him that. Why did you say no?”
“I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary with you, let alone share a room.” you tell him bluntly, and he laughs at your brazenness. He catches himself, though, his face returning to the stoic expression it’s used to. He can’t let you think he finds you funny.
“Why would we share? The rooms will be dirt cheap. It might not be what you want to hear, but, we’re stuck here for tonight at least.” he tells you. And unfortunately, you’re starting to think he’s right. You’re shit out of luck. There’s no escape from him and you are stranded in town until someone can come and get you both. Of course, the reasonable thing to do would be to call your parents and just get over your petty grudge and talk to them. But it wasn’t a viable option.
You can’t.
You just can’t.
You pull your laptop out of your bag and connect with the hotspot on your phone. Megumi is squinting incredulously. As if you’re the type to come up with evil plots and schemes.
“I’m looking up hotels in town, apparently there’s only three. Do you want to call?” you wonder. He grabs your laptop and turns it to face him, dialling the number for the first hotel. You start calling the second and it rings for an awfully long time.
“This one’s fully booked, give me the last one.” he demands, you turn your screen for him to see and he attempts the next number.
“Oh hello, I was wondering if you had any rooms available for—”
You’re cut off by the most unwelcome answer you could have possibly imagined. The look on Megumi’s face is telling you that he doesn’t have a much better answer for you either. His teeth are grinding and his face is almost completely red. Instead of one bulging forehead vein you think you can see three of them.
“No rooms.”
Fuck.
“I— We’ll take it. Is it okay if we pay on site? I’m not sure how many days… Yeah, sure. That’s fine, uh, Fushiguro for the booking, I guess. Thanks so much.” you sigh, hanging up the phone.
“Nice one, O’Keeffe. And you’re putting it in my name so Toji has to pay, real smart. At least we’ll have our rooms for the night and we can get some—”
“Our room.” you correct him.
“What?”
“They only had one fucking room available for us.”
“No.”
“It’s two double beds so it’s not like we’re sharing. Listen, I’m not thrilled about it either, Megumi.” you snipe at him, unwilling to tolerate his attitude when you’re already in a foul mood.
“If you weren’t being such a petty, stuck up, bitch, your parents could have—”
“You can eat shit along with my parents. Fuck this,” you moan, standing to your feet and heading for the exit. You’re quickly stabbing the letters of the address into Google Maps so you can walk your way to your hotel.
Megumi knows he’s going to have to catch up with you at some point, but he’s stubborn, unable to admit defeat or appear weak.
But he is at fault for everything. He is the one that got you both into this mess and he is the one that keeps pushing your fucking buttons.
He does get up, though. It takes him a while to see you when he gets outside into the pouring rain. But when he does, it doesn’t take long to reach you. And almost as if to protect his fragile masculinity, he deems it necessary to overtake you like he’s leading the way. Guiding you to safety.
He doesn’t even know where he’s going, looking over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure he’s going the right way. He stops at an intersection looking completely out of his depth. You don’t help him, if he’s so insistent on leading the way then he can take it from here.
You don’t mind catching hypothermia in pursuit of proving a petty point.
His eyes wander around. And suddenly they settle. He knows he’s lost and clueless about what he’s doing. But ever the bullshitter, he comes up with a valid excuse for a pause in the journey.
“Should we get some clothes?” he asks. You scrunch your face up, not understanding why such a random question left his lips. He points in the direction of a department store, hoping to clarify his reasoning. “We only have what we came in and we’re drenched. I hope you aren’t planning on sleeping naked since we’re sharing a room.”
You suppose he has a point.
“Fine. Let’s go, I’m not buying your shit, though.”
“Bank of Toji, O’Keeffe. A pair of piece of shit credit card kids stranded in the middle of nowhere. Classic.”
“I’m not a piece of shit credit card kid, Megumi.” you inform him.
“Oh yeah? Who’s paying for that cosy little love den again. You and Yuuji must be working so hard to pay the bills.”
That shuts you up fairly quickly. Maybe he’s right. Are you really nothing but a trust fund baby? A useless girl who can’t get by without help from her parents. You never thought about it before, but it seems that way the more you think about it.
They’re the only reason you’re able to spend as much as you want at the drop of a hat.
They’re the only reason you have a nice house to live in instead of a gross little shoebox dorm room while you’re studying.
Megumi is a lot of things. A lot of awful things you couldn’t even begin to list. But it’s not often that he lies. And it’s even rarer that he’s wrong.
The store is nothing special. It’s nice and cheap which makes you feel real good inside. You may be spending your parents’ money, but at least it isn’t anything for them to call you up about.
You pick out a few outfits and some pyjamas to wear in the hotel room. You look over one of the clothes rails and see Megumi flirting with one of the shop assistants.
You feel hot all of a sudden. Angry. Why is he fucking flirting with her? Is now really the time to be doing this? He’s acting like everything is fine. Normal. Like you aren’t stuck here for however long.
You aren’t sure why, but something snaps in you. Before you can even ask yourself if it’s a good idea you’re marching up towards the girl and Megumi, rudely intercepting their conversation.
“I’m done buying stuff. Have you got everything?” you ask him.
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t— Is this your girlfriend?” she asks. You scoff quickly and Megumi laughs at her assumption.
“Long story. Here, babe,” he smirks as he holds her hand and pulls a biro out of his back pocket. He scribbles his phone number on the top of her hand and winks at her. “Might be in town for a few days, call me up if you wanna have some fun.”
“Ugh.” you mutter, earning an elbow in the ribs from him.
“O-Okay, Megumi. I’ll call you. And nice to meet you, uh—”
“Bye.” you speak, assuming she was about to ask your name. You had no intention of giving it to her and watching them drool over each other for a second longer. “Not very professional of you, is it? Flirting with customers?” you tell her as you walk towards the checkout counter. She scoffs lightly, looking at Megumi for reassurance.
He does nothing but laugh, shrugging his shoulders as he walks after you. He’s silent for a while as he watches the woman at the counter ring up your purchases. You’ve got a face like thunder and he can’t even begin to describe how amused he feels. He waits for you to pick up your shopping bags before putting his own clothes down and waiting for the same service.
“What’s wrong with your face?” he asks you.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re pissed. Clearly. But I’ve never seen you look like that before. Is it…”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Jealousy?”
“You’re a fucking idiot. I’m not jealous. I don’t want you bringing girls back to our hotel room and listening to you cum in thirty seconds and think you’re impressive.”
“Right.”
He picks up his bags and heads for the exit. You know he’s winding you up on purpose when he winks at the girl again. It’s like he’s pouring salt and vinegar into a wound just to see how long it will take you to scream. You’re already fragile. Vulnerable. Lonely. He’s treating you as if you’re some social experiment to see how much he can get away with. He knows it’s a lot. He’s put you through a lot already.
What else is left?
—
You finally make it to the hotel.
Megumi had given in and decided to let you show him the way while he attempted to get through to his dad again. It took a few calls until he answered. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary either, both of them yelling and getting angry at each other until they finally got down to what they needed to talk about.
Paying the front desk.
He hands the phone to the man checking you in while he takes down his card details.
“Could you speak up, sir? It’s a little loud.” he requests.
“I said that earlier. Where the fuck is he?” Megumi wonders, facing you. You shrug your shoulders, assuming he didn’t actually expect you to answer.
How are you meant to know? It’s not like you're in cahoots with Toji just because he has an attentive interest in you and your wellbeing.
Megumi might annoy the life out of you and make your life hell at any opportunity, but you’re not the type of girl to keep information from him just to get the upper hand.
“All sorted. We’ve got his details, enjoy your stay.”
“Can I ask why it’s so busy? I noticed a lot of uh… interesting clothes at the store. And this was the only hotel with a room, is there a reason?” you ask him.
“It’s our big town festival this weekend. The anniversary of its founding. We get dressed up in gaudy clothes. Hold a parade. A beach party. Don’t be fooled by the weather, it’ll be scorching for the parade.”
“We need the key to the room.” Megumi states, bluntly. Clearly not giving two shits about the upcoming festival. The man nods and holds the key out to him.
“There’s a shop around the corner that sell condoms and lube.” he tells you both.
“He’s NOT my fucking boyfriend!” you yell, storming towards the stairs with your bags. Megumi laughs, again, saying goodbye to the receptionist as he follows after you. “The fuck do I look like? As if I’d date someone like him.” you mumble to yourself.
“You’re gonna hurt my feelings.” Megumi teases.
You ignore him, picking up the pace and running up the stairs so you can escape him. You know you need him to unlock the door to the room, but you need at least a few seconds of peace from him.
You can’t stand it.
You can’t stand him.
He doesn’t chase you. He doesn’t pester you anymore. You rest your back against the wall beside the door to your room as you wait for him. You’re almost at your breaking point. You can feel it brewing. Your chest is aching and your mouth is filling with water. You can even feel your jaw begin to ache.
What could you have done to deserve this?
Megumi arrives and doesn’t say a word. You’re thankful. You aren’t sure if he’s doing it for his benefit or yours. Does he know if he prods at your sensitive skin any more you’ll crumble to dust?
The room is quaint. You take the bed closest to the bathroom; leaving the one nearest to the window to him. Both of you drop your bags on each of your beds. He’s pacing around a little while you sit on the mattress.
Looking around is getting to you.
This is real.
You’re really stuck in a fucking hotel room with Megumi Fushiguro. What would Yuuji think if he could see you now? What were you fucking thinking by giving him the benefit of the doubt? Maybe you’d have been better off if you let those girls bully you on the coach and harass you in the art gallery.
At least you’d be on your way home.
At least you wouldn’t be stuck with him.
The spiralling thoughts in your mind are the final straw. You burst into tears and you couldn’t be anymore humiliated if you tried. Megumi looks over his shoulder to see you sobbing.
He feels awkward.
He’s not used to seeing anyone get emotional, let alone you. He’s only seen you like this because of him. And he can’t deny that this is his fault as well.
So, why can’t he find it in him to feel bad?
He goes in the bathroom and picks up some toilet roll for you. He doesn’t hand it to you, though. He just throws it at you. It makes you laugh a little. It’s just so him. You have to admit despite his obscure approach, he’s really been trying with you since the coach trip. You get yourself a handful of toilet roll and start dabbing it at your cheeks.
“Why did you do this to me, Megumi?” you ask so quietly it’s barely audible. “You keep fucking with me. And… this was without trying. Or was it planned?”
“Shut up. What good is this doing, huh? We’re in this, now, there isn’t shit we can do about it so suck it up.”
“You walked out of the aquarium and fucked everything up. You said you were going to piss but you were outside on the phone! Who was it? Tell me!”
“I won’t tell you again, princess. No business of yours so shut your fucking mouth.”
“It is my business when you get me into a situation like this because of it. You made this happen. And now you’re planning fucking dates and doing all that you can to make this experience even more miserable than it already is!” you yell, eyes and nose running quicker than you can keep up with. You must look a total mess and it’s making you even more embarrassed. It’s just more ammunition to fuel him with, more he can hold over your head and make you feel shit for.
“Who I’m on the phone with is my business. Who I go on dates with is my fucking business. Stop being a bitch. Are you on your fucking period? You’re so quick to shut down any chance of you being my girlfriend but you’re acting like you are since you’re being a nagging cunt.”
“Megumi—”
“Shut up.”
“Please… Please, don’t bring her back here.” you beg quietly. It makes him huff in annoyance as he turns away from you. You see him shaking as he grabs hold of the wooden dressing table as he tries to stabilise himself. “You at least owe me that, Megumi. You’ve done so many fucked up things. Unforgivable things, but here we are. I’m… I’m sobbing in a hotel room that I’m sharing with you. I’ve never asked you for anything other than to stop bullying me. But please, please don’t bring her here.”
You see his eyes screw shut in the mirror. He’s biting his lower lip as he thinks everything through.
You’re right.
He knows you’re right.
There’s an awful lot that he’s done to you and you’ve forgiven him without him even saying sorry. It shows how big of a person you are. How kind and sweet and genuine you are.
But he doesn’t care.
He just doesn’t fucking care.
Why does he get such a kick out of making you suffer? There’s something so enthralling and hypnotic about you that he can’t get over. You’re always in his fucking head and even seeing you bawl your eyes out he can’t find it in him to feel bad.
“FUCK!” he shouts, angrily trudging over to his bed to pick up one of the bags.
It’s the bag he held up earlier outside of the aquarium when you finally found each other. You never got a chance to ask what was in it. It had the logo for the aquarium on it, but you were too distraught and angry to question what he had purchased.
“Here.” he speaks, hurtling the bag towards you. You duck out of the way before it can hit you.
“Megumi!” you yell back, wiping your tears with your hands as your eyes widen in anger at him. He’s not paying attention though. Searching through his pockets for a cigarette and heading towards the exit.
“Goin’ for a smoke. Sick of the sight of your miserable fuckin’ face.” he tells you, slamming the door behind him. You throw yourself backwards so that your head is in the pillows. You’ve never felt so alone as you practically wail into the desolate hotel room.
What you’d give to have Toji pick you up right now and take you home.
To tell Megumi off for being so cruel to you again. Or even just to have Yuuji hold you in his arms. You’d kill to hear his voice. Hell. You’d even settle for a text at this point.
Why is he avoiding you?
You manage to calm yourself down the longer Megumi is gone from the room.
Deep breaths. One. Two. Three. Four.
You get up and look at yourself in the mirror. You’re thankful you packed some of your makeup into your tote bag for emergencies. Your face is a mess, you look like you’ve just been dumped on your wedding day.
You decide to go to the bathroom to rinse it off completely. The cold water splashing on your face almost stops your heart. But once your face is clear, you dab the water dripping down with a towel.
As you steady your breathing, you run your fingers through your hair once you leave the bathroom. The bag that Megumi tossed at you catches your eye. He threw it like it was yours. But you didn’t get anything from the aquarium. You’re approaching it like it’s a fucking bomb. He’s probably put insects in it to bite you or filled it with something else equally disgusting.
But you can’t help having a curious nature.
The bag is light when you pick it up. A single tear rolls down your face when you look inside.
“Oh, Megumi…” you sigh.
It’s the shark. The shark plushie from the aquarium you thought was so adorable. It doesn’t excuse everything he’s done. Anything he’s done, actually.
It certainly isn’t worth being late for the bus.
It isn’t worth you being stuck in this hotel room. It didn’t excuse everything he’d done and how he treated you in the past. But you can’t help but wonder how different things could be if he had shown this side of him from the start.
You get cosy in bed and cuddle your shark. You decide to name him Gerald. He’s softer than you remember him being in the gift shop, and that is by no means a complaint. It’s such a nice feeling to have something so adorable and soft to hold.
There is a split second you think your heart might have actually stopped when you hear Megumi open the door. You jump out of your skin but remain comfortable lying under the covers of your bed. He walks in, chuckling, when he sees you. He shakes his hand through his hair, messy water droplets falling from the ends.
“Thank you for Gerald, I love him.”
“S’not a gift, you owe me for him,” he tells you. At that, you sit up. Wide eyed and humiliated that you actually thought he’d do something so nice for you. You set down Gerald and open up the quilt to go and get your purse. “It was a joke. Gerald, huh?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. People names on animals is funny, I guess.” you answer. He nods lazily, like he isn’t fully committing to agreeing with your opinion. He throws his jacket to the ground and sits on top of his own bed. “Why did you do this for me?”
“I saw you left him when I went back to find you.” he speaks, “I- you seemed like you really wanted it so I just got it for you. That’s it. You’re welcome.” he finishes, leaning backwards on his elbows as he stares you down. It’s incredible how uneasy you can feel in such an instant whenever those intimidating green eyes study you.
It’s like you forget how to breathe.
How to be.
How should you act when you’re worrying whether or not every action you take may be used against you?
“I’d… look, I have a lot of thoughts and I just can’t say them without feeling stupid.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid, Megumi. You’re just a dick.” you laugh, and he laughs back. You aren’t wrong. “I’m scared of you, I don’t think I’ll ever get over that feeling with you. You’re compelling. Forceful. Dominant. It scares me, but getting me a plushie… standing up for me with those girls… colouring a fucking kids book in with me. They’re such kind, human things I didn’t expect you to be capable of.”
“Human? Do you think I’m a monster?”
“Sometimes. Most of the time, Megumi. You became a monster under my bed that kept me up at night.” you tell him. He shakes his head at that. You can’t decipher whether it’s self-reflection or disregard of your statement. Maybe he thinks you’re just being dramatic. “I don’t know what we are right now but I’d never think you’re stupid. So, if there’s anything you want to talk to me about or tell me I won’t… I won’t judge you for it. But if you want to keep it to yourself that’s fine too. Thanks for giving me a gift.”
“The girl from the store sent me a text. She asked if I want to go on a date tonight.” he admits. The admission takes you aback slightly, not expecting that to be the thought he was wanting to speak of.
“O-Oh.”
“I’m not bringing her back here. You’re right, I owe you that much. And I… I told her I can’t go on a date, ever.”
“Why?”
“’Cause it’s my fault we’re stuck here so I shouldn’t leave you alone, right? You’re fucking me up, O’Keeffe. Got me growin’ a fucking conscience suddenly.” he complains, but it makes you smile.
“I can look after myself, you know. Don’t let me stand in the way of you getting a nut.” you smile. He shakes his head putting another cigarette between his lips. He only left the room to smoke because he wanted space and to give you the same, not because it’s a rule of the hotel. There’s even an ashtray on his bedside table for him.
“Don’t care if you can or not. I don’t want to see her, anyway. I wanna go out with you.” he tells you.
“I’m sorry?”
“Get ready. The receptionist told me there’s a bowling alley nearby, ‘m not sulking in this shit hole room all night so get dressed.”
—
He’s a little jealous that he didn’t think of your genius idea of buying a raincoat. He did buy an umbrella, though, not that it did much to protect his new clothes or his hair. The bowling alley is a fifteen-minute walk away from the hotel. You’re glad you had opted to wear your favourite trainers instead of a pair of heels for your trip. Walking around today had been a breeze. And you were both hoping this would be the type of bowling alley that allows you to wear your own shoes.
You’ve always enjoyed places like this. Arcades that are dark with neon lighting. You look over to the lanes while Megumi pays for both of you and see an assortment of neon-coloured pins.
“Could we have a lane with pink pins, please?” you ask, sweetly. Megumi looks up from the card machine to grimace at you. But the man nods kindly, agreeing to your request.
You’re guided to the furthest lane away, right next to the wall. The desire to take a few pictures is too strong to ignore. Megumi scoffs but doesn’t comment. You get a few snaps of him while he’s entering your names into the system. It shocks you that he’s letting you go first. There might be a gentlemanly side to him, after all.
“Do you need the sides up?” he asks, patronisingly.
“Don’t be a dick about it. Yes, please.” you respond. He rolls his eyes but does as you ask. The sides come up for you to take your turn, and they’ll retreat for his. “Ah this is so cool! I didn’t know lanes could do this now.”
“Hurry up and take your turn. Does princess need a pink ball to match her pink pins?” he questions. Whenever you bowl, you always choose the lightest weight. Either a six or an eight. There’s only an eight here and it’s a hideous lime green colour. But it’s fine. You watch the ball zig zag off the sides before knocking down seven pins. “Not bad.” he hums. You saunter back to the bowling balls and pick up another. You only manage to hit one pin, but it’s one more than you had expected.
“You’re up, Fushiguro. See if you can beat that.” you tease, sticking your tongue out.
He swaggers over to the machine with as much confidence as an A-lister. He picks up the heaviest, pink, ball with ease. He raises his eyebrows twice in quick succession, like he’s gloating he got to use a pink ball and you didn’t. He poses triumphantly before he’s even rolled the ball. Like he’s some sort of fucking pro.
The ball flies from his hand and skids down the lane quicker than you can blink. It doesn’t roll until it connects with the centre pin. One of his legs is dramatically behind the other, a position he chooses to hold until he sees each and every pin knock down.
Megumi turns around and grins at you, smirking with pride and the state of shock your face is currently displaying. You point to the lane and then back to him as your words get jumbled in your mouth. He lazily points back at you, a fake look of contemplation overcoming him.
“So, out of curiosity, do you think I beat that?” he teases. He takes a seat and waits for you to take your next turn, casually looking through the drinks menu that had been left for you both to peruse.
“Are you some sort of bowling prodigy?”
“Nah.”
That’s it. That’s all he’s giving you as he orders himself a beer on the screen menu. He orders a drink for you, too, though he doesn’t tell you that. You take your turn again and manage to somehow get a spare.
By the time your drinks come he’s taking his next turn. You’re surprised that he ordered you a strawberry and lime cider, but it isn’t unwelcome. Maybe he’s trying to get you drunk so he wins even easier than he already is. He comes back, swigging his beer and silently gloating about his second strike of the evening.
“Thanks for the drink.” you smile. He nods and he drinks, his Adam’s apple bobbing dramatically with each glug of his beer. “Are those strikes just luck, then?”
“Does it matter?”
“A little, I guess. Did you just bring me here so you could feel superior?”
“Take your fuckin’ turn. You need to get it into that thick head of yours that not everything I do is about you.” he speaks sternly. It feels like you’re five years old being scolded by your parents. You tuck your hair behind your ears and get up to bowl again. You’re elated when your ball zig zags perfectly enough to earn a strike. It fills you with false confidence, a belief that you might actually be able to keep up with Megumi.
You sit and sip your drink as you watch him take another turn. He lets his head loll backwards as he exhales in annoyance.
“Unlucky.” you mock, as he cranes his head to face you. A split. He manages to get two out of the three pins left standing. You wonder for a second if he might have done it on purpose to placate you, and then you remember who you’re dealing with.
As tense as the atmosphere seems to be between the two of you, you’re managing to make fun for yourself. The music is loud, something you’d hear in a nightclub. You can’t help but shake your hips whenever you get up to roll. You drink your cider a little quicker than intended and you start ordering more. They go down smoother than water and your turns become messier. It’s going to be an easy win for Megumi, but it doesn’t stop either of you trying.
“Let’s go again!” you yell before gasping when you realise what song is playing. Love Myself, by Hailee Steinfeld. “I LOVE ME! GONNA LOVE MY—”
“That’s enough,” Megumi interrupts as he yanks you away from the lane. He’s holding your hand impossibly tight, guiding you in the direction of the exit. You can tell he’s embarrassed but your tipsy mind decides it’s a good idea to keep pushing his buttons anyway.
“Aw, Megs, don’tcha wanna teach me how to bowl? Since you’re such an expert?”
“I- I don’t want to do that. Shut up, we’re going home.”
“I wish we were going home. You fucking idiot. Letting us get stranded here because you had such an important fucking phone call that’s such a big God damn secret.”
“Oh for crying out fucking loud.” he says, stopping in the middle of an alleyway he decided to take to save time. “You’re so lucky you’re you right now, you have no fucking idea.”
“W-What does that mean?”
“I hate you. I hate you nagging and bitching in my ear constantly. But most of all I hate how pathetically weak you are. I could leave you here, you know. In the middle of this shady alley to let whatever piece of shit do whatever the hell he wants with you. And I’d sleep just fine. Do you understand? I despise you.”
“But you’ve been so—”
“So nice? The only reason I’m not gonna do that is because you’re you. Let me say it simply enough for your stupid little mind to understand. I don’t wanna deal with your family, my family, Gojo, and fucking Yuuji jumping down my neck because I left a spoilt bitch to rot in the middle of nowhere.”
“You’ll never change, will you? Why do you keep doing this to me?”
“Enough.” he hisses, clenching your wrist and pulling you out of the dingy alleyway and back onto the main roads. The streetlights glittering as rain lashes down across the yellow bulbs. You’re crying, again. You probably would have been able to hold it together if you were in your own sober mind.
How could you be so stupid? After what he did to you last time there was alcohol involved, you’re such an idiot for letting your guard down for a second around him. Granted, he didn’t do anything particularly evil to you. But he definitely has a way with words that make you feel like you’re a speck of dust in the grand scheme of the universe.
You’re nothing.
—
He shoves you into the hotel room ahead of him and slams the door behind himself. The hideous flickering fluorescent lights are making you feel sick. You’re wobbling on your feet without Megumi guiding and supporting you. You begin to lean, to slope. Your feet are staggering until finally you collapse onto the ground.
“You are a fucking embarrassment. Get up. You need to sleep this off.” he demands. You get onto your hands and knees and start crawling towards your shopping bags searching for your pyjamas. He watches as you feebly rifle through them before he gets sick and helps you. He pulls out the purple fluffy vest and shorts you purchased and throws them in your face. “I didn’t have you down as being such a lightweight. It’s hard to watch, should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Didn’t use—”
“Huh?”
“Didn’t used to be, Megumi… I haven’t touched a drop since you…”
You begin to sob as you think about what a fool you’re making of yourself in front of your bully. It humbles him, though, hearing the reason you couldn’t hold your alcohol is another thing that’s down to him. He almost feels sorry for you. It’s enough for him to help you to your feet and lead you into the bathroom to get dressed in private.
“Fuck!” you yell, knocking over a multitude of complimentary bathroom products as you stumble to the ground yet again. Megumi rushes in to see you on the floor, still fully dressed and struggling to get your clothes off. You’re sobbing, now, face shining with sticky tears and regrets. “Megumi, I can’t—”
“Alright.” he picks up your pyjamas and sits on the ground with you, pulling you between his legs. Your shirt is lifted over your head for you before he replaces it with your new soft vest. “Bra on or off?” he questions.
“O-Off, please.” you answer. His hands slip under your vest as he unhooks it. He pulls down the straps and reaches around your front and under your clothes again. It’s awkward. Intimate. But he doesn’t cop a feel. He’s being a genuine help to you. Yanking away your black bra and tossing it aside. “Thank y-you.”
He stands up and helps you to your feet as well. You’re forcibly turned to face him as he undoes the button on your jeans and pulls down the zipper. He turns you again to pull them down to your ankles.
“Do you sleep with your panties on or off?”
“Um, I—”
“I won’t look, just want you to get ready for bed.”
“Off…” you sigh, nervously. You look over your shoulder and see him nod. He keeps his gazed fixed on the bathroom tiles as he hooks his fingers into your simple black thong. They’re pulled down so you can step out of them and into the purple shorts. You wiggle your hips so he can put them onto you comfortably. You’ve still got socks on. You’d managed to force your trainers off when you fell over next to your bed, but who knows if you were able to keep them together.
Megumi stands up and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to your bed and throwing you onto the mattress. He takes your socks off for you and tucks them into your trainers, leaving the beside the door to the hotel for you to find tomorrow.
“Under the covers.” he instructs, and you obey.
“Why are you so… it’s like you’re two different people.”
He ignores you, tucking you in until you look comfy enough. You’re cuddling Gerald and he hates the way his heart flutters when he sees how sweet you look with the gift that he got you. What the hell was he thinking? He goes to the bathroom and comes back with a glass of water, setting it on your side table in case you need it during the night.
“Megs, I’ve got some aspirin in my tote. Would you mind?”
He gets it for you and throws it your way. It hits off the glass, spilling a little water but nothing too damaging. Megumi starts to undress, uncaring of your presence. He bought himself a pair of sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt to sleep in. He walks around, turning out all of the lights before he gets into his own bed.
“’m not tired.” you tell him.
“You will be. Lie there and be quiet ‘til you fall asleep.” he tells you, not that he thought you’d listen to a word he had to say.
“Can we talk until we sleep?”
“No.”
“I wanna know why you’re so nice to me one minute and awful to me the next. Please, tell me why?” you request. He just grunts, though, not liking the thought of having to listen to you drone on until you pass out.
“You annoy me.” he says simply. It’s clear it isn’t a good enough answer when he’s rewarded with silence. But it’s the truth. You do annoy him. Like nobody else ever has before. “You piss me off and you make me feel angry. But you’re nice so it fucks me up, alright? I don’t know how to act around you because you make me feel too many things.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Drop it.”
You wrack your brains for something else to talk to him about. You’re sure talking about yourself isn’t a good idea, and talking about him might be even worse. Anything to do with Toji has the potential for an all-out war in the hotel room. You think asking about his history with Yuuji might be a sore subject, too.
“How come you’re so good at bowling?” it’s perfect. It’s about him but it’s not a heavy subject that can trigger him into another fit of abuse and rage. And it’s a valid question, too, considering he just schooled you at the bowling alley. He rolls onto his side to face you, and you do the same. He can see Gerald peeking out of the duvet and grins.
“Practice. Used to skip school a lot and play at the arcade.”
“Ever the bad boy, ‘Gumi.”
“Cut that shit out right now. I hate that nickname.” he demands. It makes you laugh knowing four letters has such a heated reaction from him. “Wasn’t doing it to be bad, just didn’t like school. Or people.”
“Were you… bullied? Or something?”
“No. Just didn’t care about shit. Toji was in and out and I was just angry about it. And I lost my mother and didn’t really have anyone to— Why am I telling you this? Stop asking me dumb shit.”
It’s the first time you’ve heard Megumi even come close to opening up about his mother. When you hear the vulnerability in his truth, you can almost forgive him for taking his anger with the world out on you. Toji is incredible to you, but the same can’t be said for his son. To abandon him right after he lost his mother is unforgivable. Of course he’s fucked up like this. He had nothing and no one. Not a shoulder to cry on or a word to say. Why would he care about his education or school when nothing in the world gave any care for him?
“Tsumiki isn’t your real sister, is she? So how did she—”
“Her mother and my father had a thing after mine died. So she’s not technically any relation of mine but we were all a family, only for a little bit. But after our parents ran off, that’s when Gojo took us in.”
“Wait, what? Gojo, as in—”
“Yeah, Satoru Gojo. That’s why I was surprised he was giving you a ride home that day after class. He’s like my weird other dad. That’s why him and Toji hate each other. Toji’s possessive and I’m his. But Gojo is the one who actually raised me most of my life.”
“Fuck. That’s so… fucked. Seriously heavy drama. Plus, I can’t imagine Gojo as a father. He’s annoying as hell and so immature.”
“He is. But he was good to us.”
You roll away and face the wall, happy with your answers and the conversation you’ve had. Your eyes are feeling heavier, watering with desperation to sleep. Yawns evade your lips and it makes Megumi chuckle. When your mouth is closed your teeth begin to chatter. Maybe shorts and vest wasn’t the best idea for sleepwear given the current weather conditions.
Despite all your best efforts to conceal the volume of your teeth, Megumi hears them. He doesn’t react, though. Not straight away at least. He isn’t sure if he wants to get involved. The worry of saying something pointless swirls through his head. What could he say, anyway? It’s not like he could do anything to make it better.
“You’re cold.” he says, plainly. He curses himself immediately. Why did he state it as a fact as if you aren’t already fully fucking aware of what temperature your body is at? You’re covered head to toe in goosebumps and worried you might actually freeze into a statue.
“Uhm, I… a little.” you confess, weakly. He clears his throat. His mouth is moving faster than his brain can tell him to shut up. It’s a mistake. A colossal mistake he needs to stop himself from making. But he can’t. The words are already pouring out. What the fuck is wrong with him?
“We, uh, do you want to get in? With me. Share body heat until you warm up.”
It shocks you, significantly so. He’s offering to spoon with you. What would Yuuji think? What would anyone think, actually? What do you think?
You think it’s absolutely ridiculous.
You’re constantly at each other’s throats and now he’s offering you comfort and warmth in such an intimate way. Yuuji wouldn’t be happy. Would any man be happy about their girlfriend getting into bed with someone else? No matter how innocent it is. You know he wouldn’t like it.
But you know it’s innocent. You don’t want anything from Megumi. Just…
“Okay.” you whisper. His eyes bulge, he hadn’t been expecting you to agree to it. He opens his duvet up for you. You pick up Gerald and rush into bed with him. Your body moulds against his and you immediately feel better. He’s so warm. You’re cuddling Gerald and his arms are wrapped around your waist as he holds you close, attempting to transfer as much as his body heat as he can onto you.
“Feel better?” he mutters after around ten minutes. You nod, and he holds you even tighter.
“I feel your… your dick is hard, Megumi.” you groan back, he snickers, uncaring.
“I know. Sorry, your ass keeps grinding against it. Just ignore it ‘n go to sleep, princess.” he commands. You giggle back at him. It isn’t his fault. If anything it’s yours. You should have said no to getting into his bed. You shouldn’t be letting him hold you like this. How a lover should.
How Yuuji does.
It’s so wrong and inappropriate. But you’re so toasty and warm, you really don’t care.
“Sweet dreams, Megumi.”
“Night, O’Keeffe.”
—
© 2022 fuwushiguro | © 2024 rinhaler
#🦋 — luxe writes#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#megumi angst#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#megumi x reader#megumi x you#megumi x y/n#fushiguro megumi angst#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#tw bullying#yuji itadori#yuuji itadori#itadori yuuji#itadori yuji#yuji smut#yuuji smut#yuuji x reader#jjk x fem!reader#yuuji itadori x reader#yuuji x you#yuuji x y/n#tw alcohol consumption
38 notes
·
View notes
Note
I know nothing about 911 but seeing all the bucktommy posts makes me really interested, if you don’t mind could you give a short introduction of the ship/which episode(s) to watch for them? Thanks!!
Hi! So the ship is a very new one and they don't have a lot of screen time yet, so their relationship only appears in season seven, episodes: 7x3 to 7x6 and then 7x9 and 7x10. Tommy Kinard as a side character also shows up in episodes 2x9, 2x12, 2x14 (in an off-screen capacity) and 2x16.
As for the introduction, the lore with this show runs sort of deep, but as condensed and simplified as I can give it to you: the decision to introduce bi!Buck and Tommy and his love interest was made very last minute (like as the first few episodes of season seven were coming out kind of last minute...) as the tv show switched networks from FOX to ABC and was working with a protracted season, (10 episodes in stead if 18), so this first season you see them together in has a very "let's see how well this works and if the general audience approves of it" kind of vibe.
Obviously, it worked for me! And the general reception has been good. Personally, I find their dynamic fun and genuine; the show runner was aiming for a non-heavy coming out story with a romcom twist, which a think they succeeded at. Buck (or "Evan" as Tommy calls him) is sort of the obvious favourite of the show in the audience and the writer's eyes, he's gotten a lot of development over the years, but has stagnanted recently on the romance side of things and also in his professional development, (which is partly the fault of the writers and partly just bad luck with maintaining actors). So I think a lot of fans are excited to see him "off the hamster wheel", as they say, in the love department. This opens up the possibility to explore other plot lines with him as a character in his professional life and personal life now that hes in a steady relationship.
Tommy we don't know much about yet, other than he was deeply in the closet when we first see him in the season 2 flash-back episodes. He's not initially a very warm, welcoming, and accepting person, but it's implied that a lot of that behavior was influenced by his environment and poor upbringing and he is quick to make amends and befriend the main characters when he's shown to be in the wrong. He used to be in the army, and is a fan of cars, martial arts, and rom coms. The way he talks in the season seven episodes makes it clear that he's done a lot of self reflection since we've last seen him (and since he's come out). He's shown to be an open and honest person who does his best to show up for the people he cares for, and once Buck is in his line of sight, all that attention is turned his way.
I think with this ship what people are most excited about is the potential it demonstrates: Buck as a character is someone who's been on an aggressive misson of self discovery and understanding, he's been actively looking for a romantic partner to have a committed, mature relationship with, he's someone who's willing to give a lot of himself away to his partner and is desperately hoping to have that attention and affection mirrored back at him.
What little we know about Tommy so far makes it clear that he's mature and willing enough to be that person for Buck: if it works out and the writers allow him to be. I just really enjoy what little I've seen so far, and with the show being back to its regular 18 episodes next season and Tommy pretty much confirmed to return, I'm interested and invested and hopefully in where they may take this relationship next.
Also I feel like I need to add if you're going to engage with the fandom specifically for this ship, do it through the #bucktommy tag on tumblr, because it's a real mine field out there right now, lol.
#bucktommy#asks#sorry I'm wine drunk i hope this makes sense#also I'm fairly new to this fandom so if anyone wants to add extra context feel free#I'm juat very good at digesting information and love to rubber neck and used to work in tv production#911#i will edit this in the morning 🤦🏼♂️
44 notes
·
View notes
Note
Re: the fic tropes from the s2 hiatus, I have a related thought or question.
I would welcome your thoughts or recs (including recs of your own fic) because I admittedly found the OT3 WAY more easy to believe in fic in the s2 hiatus, in terms of Jamie joining an established RoyKeeley, even if the signs for the RK break up were there in retrospect. I now find it hard to believe in, post finale (well, post fight - up until half way through the finale we were looking good.) I still read lots of OT3 things that diverge at different points in the show, up to and including mid finale, and them simply not taking their bullshit argument to Keeley’s door, but I CANNOT see a path back from that after they do it, only to RJ, in a strictly canon compliant post finale fic. Of course Keeley becomes friends with them again but the events of canon made me feel like she fully closed the door on either of them in that scene for good, and I can't see it working out the way I once could. That's a let down, and makes me sad especially after 3.11! I used to not even like RJ without K, I much preferred OT3.
So what are your fave fics that deal with them getting together post finale - as in, one that doesn't diverge and that deal with what actually happened? I want a fic to really to sell me on it, if that makes sense, because the show really didn't in the end, it felt like it killed it. (Even with the barbecue scene - it felt like potential for RJ + Friend Keeley to me.)
Can you help me believe in the possibility again?
Hello!! First off, let me apologize in advance for what I'm fearing might end up a lengthly response to what was a very simple question, and frankly more than you probably wanted to know lol. That said, I feel like I need to preface my suggestions a bit first to help explain my breakdown of the recs so here's just a few things to keep in mind:
So, I don't see Keeley kicking them out after their bullshit argument to be a permanent door closure on the possibility for a relationship, which obviously influences my enjoyment of post finale ot3 fics greatly. Instead, I sort of just view it as Keeley drawing a hard boundary on what she's willing to put up with, and categorically deciding that she not going to engage with either of them when they're being that idiotic (enormously valid of her). HOWEVER, I honestly believe all it would take is a genuine apology from them to allow them both back into her good graces (look at how easily she forgave Roy after he gave her that sort of half-arsed [imo] apology letter! Now, obviously that didn't fix anything between them, and Keeley was in a particularly vulnerable place when it happened, and possibly their subsequent decision to sleep together then made things worse for their future romantically, but they are also undeniably back to genuine friendship + complicated feelings about ~more~ in the very next episode! I think this situation would go very much the same way.)
NOW, I'm not saying that's like... an entirely healthy and well-adjusted basis for a romantic relationship right off the go, just that I do think that Keeley would accept their apology and return to being friends with both of them really speedily. And that I don't think the lingering romantic feelings between them all (that imo, we do see hints of all season) would disappear. The big problem with roykeeley that led to the breakup was their inability to communicate their needs and feelings and what they wanted out of their relationship, alongside an inability to be truly vulnerable about their emotions. But i think s3 made it very clear to me how much the love is still there between them, and I'm of the belief that all it would take to fix them would be an honest conversation where they acknowledge they've hurt one another, admit they still love each other, and come up with a plan to move forward. I think the solution would be similar for budding ot3--they just need that heart to heart moment to hash it all out, because the love is there!
As such, the most "realistic" path forward for ot3 post-finale the way I see it is for all three of them to agree to be ~just friends~ for the foreseeable, giving Keeley time to focus on herself & her career and explore the self-discovery that comes with being single for once, as well as giving Roy time to develop a routine with therapy and work esp. on the issues that promoted him to initiate the bullshit finale fight with Jamie in the first place. I do not necessarily think anyone but Jamie is necessarily ready for any relationship where we leave them in s3, so I feel very similar about routes forward for RJ, JK or RK and I do for RJK. Eventually though (because let's face it, I do think they're all deeply horny for one another as well as share deeper feelings) the simmering, underlying sexual tension would boil over and the friendship would develop into more.
But all that said...I also am very easy to please and can be made to believe in pretty much any route to ot3, so I enjoy most interpretations of how they get together post finale/*that* fight. I love that it was left so open-ended, it makes it so easy for me to enjoy most fics about how they might get together
I say all this not to argue over your different interpretation (which is a totally valid one!) or to try to suggest everyone needs to see it how I see it, but rather to sort of warn you I guess that some of the fics I'm recommending might not be as successful for you as you were for me, because I see the situation so differently.
I think a lot of canon-compliant post finale fics (mine included tbh) tend to sweep the fight moment under the rug (as in, it gets mentioned that the boys apologized or what have you, but there's also been at least a few weeks time jump since the finale and the three of them have kind of moved on from that evening) because myself and other authors maybe see it as less of a major dealbreaker that needs to very addressed before the three can more forward. I have tried to curate the fics out accordingly into categories that will hopefully steer you in the right direction, but it's also been a while since I've read a lot of these:
Category A: Very convincing (imo) canon-compliant getting-together post finale fics that don't necessarily address the final fight head on:
The Third Wheel by scintilla10; a very cute one-shot based around the idea that Jamie and Keeley have a heart to heart in Brazil and then bring that energy back home to Roy.
Upside Down by @morethanslightly; post finale, they're all friends! then Jamie and Keeley go to Brazil and more occurs :)
take away the glass by @izzyspussy; OK...so to be fair... This one explicitly states in the leading author's note that it ignores everything that happens in the finale, lol. However, it's so good and otherwise (imo) very in line with canon that I'm recommending it to you anyway, even though it doesn't match the brief. JamieKeeley get back together first, which is a unique take I haven't seen in any other fic that nonetheless feels SO fitting for the dynamic in s3. I just really think this is the post-series fic that could convince you on the three of them again :)
Oh, Lord, You've Never Been So In Love by asexual-fandom-queen; post finale friends to lovers, the fight is mentioned in what i think is a very effective way, but not really focused on.
Triangles by @catalogercas- I love fics where Phoebe is the one to knock some sense into them :)
Category B: Post-finale ot3 fics that DO address the finale/fight of it all head on:
How to Build A Triangle (or accidentally fall headlong into one, or whatever the fuck) by SquaresAreNotCircles; very fun but also They Talk About It! Pretty in line with how I see how things actually playing out in canon, tbh.
boyfriend lessons by @mixtapestar; so this is in alignment with "they apologize, Keeley forgives them and they all move on" which I realize might be enough accountability for the way you view the fight, but there's fun twists and I love anything that involves shenanigans and also their Brazil trip.
it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning - butterflybook; a quick one-shot about the boys apologizing & Keeley forgiving them (author notes this happens quickly, but they share my sentiment that that is pretty in character for Keeley)
Category C: Maybe less convincing, given canon, in terms of like, long-term stability for the relationship without further conversation and hard work, but definitely convincing for in-the-moment rampant horniness:
three turns by scintilla10; this is about Keeley inviting them back in immediately after kicking them out for horny purposes, so I'm not sure you'd be convinced by this lmao. But it's also so fun, so I thought I'd throw it on the list anyway for others people who might be interested and/or if you read some category A stuff that gets you back in the ship and then want to try something different
Triple blend by Dancey96; this definitely takes some liberties with what Keeley may have said before kicking them out. so it's "canon-compliant" in a very loose way I don't think aligns with what was actually intended in canon, lol. BUT! It works for them and it's fun and it's hot and it's a fun way to play with what happened so maybe it would make you feel better about the scene! idk
Heart Trouble by @morethanslightly this is another play on the scene that maybe doesn't address their problems as much as you would need, but gosh it is sexy and fun!
Category D: My own fics that may or not be your speed but I'm throwing in to self promo anyway:
Confetti ; This follows the concept that they're all friends post finale and then slowly the dynamic starts to change; fluffy getting together fic ft. Roy's family
last to leave the party ; another iteration of the above but this time it's years of friendship between the three of them post the finale before the something happens that causes things to shift back around to romance
Actually, the one I'm writing now (RJK friends with benefits) is I think going to be the one that addresses what you are looking for most head on (in terms of dealing with the direct aftermath of the finale and staying completely canon compliant). So stay tuned!
If anyone else has any suggestions or would like to self-rec one of your own fics for anon, please add them/share them with me!
#i think it was sort of hard for me to put together recs because the thing that bothers you a lot doesn't so much bother me!#so I'm sorry if this is not what you are looking for. I did my best :)#royjamiekeeley#roy kent#jamie tartt#keeley jones#ted lasso#asks#fic recs#post finale fics#ship post
26 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
chiefbrezzy
Mr. Rub Hands Like Birdman
santodeplataguerrero
Sin título
akaloveless
Nothing is True. Everything is Permitted
santodeplataguerrero
Sin título