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#feel free to expand on this please i encourage it
castielfucks · 2 years
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okay but dean giving cas a nice firm pat on the back right where his wings come out and cas's knees buckling bc its a sensitive spot
mdni
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freedomanddisorder · 1 month
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Meeting the Parents (Part 2)
In the Infinite Realms. In the massive empty throne room of the Kings castle, Ellie finished her -for lack of a better word- presentation over her new boyfriends with a confident smile. “-And you said if I was ever serious about anyone that you would want to meet them. Robin said that it’d be smart to have the parents meet too so I figured it’d be easier to set up one big meeting then a few smaller get togethers!”
Danny felt bad. He took the throne at 20 and the endless backlog of everything from Pariah Dark’s forced sabbatical kept him from spending time with his clone daughter.
Sam, exploring her powers and the domain/territory that Undergrowth gave her control over (mostly in a bid to increase his influence in the King’s Council) also found herself occupied most days.
And Tucker who expanded his influence and took control of the New Egyptian sector of the Infinite and began training his techno-magic with Technus was very limited on his free time too.
The three of them shared a look while Ellie stood infront of them, practically vibrating with anticipation. They all felt guilty for neglecting her. Ellie may have been a very free spirit but she was fifteen now and this was her first major relationship.
She went exploring through different dimensions to satisfy her Obsession for adventure while the three of them stayed in the Realms. But them being so busy that Ellie assumed they couldn’t make time to have more than one meeting with her boyfriends said something about their relationship that didn’t sit right.
Privately, each of the three made a mental note to spend more time with Ellie one on one.
Outwardly they all agreed to the meeting and happily encouraged Dani to let her boyfriends know they were excited to meet and get to know them.
“Should I bring a casserole?” Danny wondered aloud.
“NO.” A trio of voice said loudly.
Ellie laughed “Dad, you are the worst at cooking. Please don’t poison my boyfriends.”
Danny smiled at her. She was literally rolling midair at the thought of him cooking. “Feels rude not to bring Something. And isn’t it traditional for the dad to have the ‘shovel talk’ with new boyfriends?”
Sam snorted to the side while reaching up and pulling Ellie into a hug. White posies bloomed through her hair in delight at Ellie’s giggles. “I think your shovel talk might be too effective for teenage boys. Even the krytonian one.”
Tucker slung an arm around Danny’s shoulder “Nah, you said they were heroes right?”
“Sidekicks technically” Ellie corrected. At the confused looks she got she explained “Their dads are heroes, but Robin and Superboy are too young to be considered ‘real heroes’.”
“How young is too young to be a hero?” Danny asked perplexed. “I was 14 when we got started.”
“Maybe it’s a cultural thing for their dimension?” Tucker questioned. “Like the age limit for drinking in Europe is like 18 and in America it’s 21. How young is ‘too young’ to be a hero?”
“They’re both 15 like me.” And this was true. Ellie’s chronological age finally matched her physical appearance. According to Frostbite the little halfa will age normally from this point on. Only stopping from aging when she chose to.
“Or maybe they are just bad at being heroes instead of too young.” Sam smirked at Ellie’s affronted look. “What if being a sidekick is like an interning situation?”
“That would make sense, I guess.” Danny said nodding his head. “Or like a driver’s learner’s permit kind of thing.”
“Student driver?” Tucker suggested, “Or student hero?”
“Does that mean we were joyriding heroics back in the day?” Sam cackled.
“It was a wild ride to say the least!” Danny howled with laughter.
“Can we focus please?” Ellie pleaded with the laughing trio.
“Sorry Starlight. What do you need?”
“The meeting is next week at the ‘Fortress of Solitude’. Apparently it’s Superboys dad’s man cave or something.”
“Pause.” Tucker said “Are you really dating a guy named “Superboy?” Is his dad IncredibleMan or something?”
“…Superman.”
The trio dissolved into more laughter. “You can’t judge like at all! You changed your name from Danny Fenton to Danny Phantom!” Ellie pointed at Danny with a triumphant look.
More laughter erupted but this time from Tucker and Sam pointing at a disgruntled Danny. “It was better than Inviso-Bill at least.” He grumbled.
Shaking off the theatrical expression he had on, Danny ruffled Ellie’s hair. “We’ll be there Starlight.”
“On time?” She raised an eyebrow.
It was well deserved skepticism on her part. The last three Father/Daughter plans they had went belly up because of unexpected emergencies he had to handle as King of the Infinite.
Danny winced but recovered with a swift kiss on her forehead. “Yes. Little Star. I promise. Cross my core and everything.”
Ellie glowed happily. “I can’t wait!! This is gonna be great! I’m gonna go tell Aunt Jazz!” She flitted out of the room with a Whoop.
Jazz was currently working with Skulker regarding his need to prove his hunting superiority and it being a desperate attempt to gain the respect of his overly critical father who was so far dead he wasn’t even a ghost.
But Jazz’s therapy sessions usually needed a few breaks when things got deep so she’d probably enjoy have some time to relax with Ellie and chat about boys.
Boys.
Ellie was dating.
An odd feeling settled somewhere in Danny’s middle. Not his core but somewhere below it. He didn’t like it.
“Well that’s a great expression.” Tucker quipped sardonically, looking at his face.
Sam looked over as well. “Yikes, scary Dad mode.” She tugged at Danny till he was sat on the steps of the throne Dias. “Relax. Haven’t seen you this stiff since that time Ellie fell in a black hole.”
Danny shuddered broken out of his daze. “Don’t remind me. I don’t think I have ever been that scared. Not even during Pariah.”
“Just chill. So Ellie has some boyfriends she’s not much younger than we were when we started dating.”
“I know. I know. But, she’s just a kid. I…what if she gets hurt? What if these boys are bad news?”
“We could ask Clockwork to look into them?” Tucker suggested
Sam shook her head. “No. Absolutely not. We are not looking into these boys or spying on them. If we do that then Ellie will think we don’t trust her judgement.”
“I trust Ellie.” Danny assured them. “It’s those boys I don’t trust.”
Tucker crossed his arms. “…I wish we knew more about their characters. Ellie said they were heroes. Right?”
“Well hero interns.” Danny looked up at Tucker who was now pacing. “What are you thinking, Tucker?”
“Mythologically speaking. Heroes are defined by the trials they endure. Hercules, Cu Chulainn, Odysseus, Jason, Orpheus, Beowulf-“
“So?” Sam interrupted.
“Soooo, a lot of those trials at put on those guys to test them. Their strength, courage, loyalty, love, faith. That’s what Makes them Heroes.”
Danny sat up straighter. A fanged grin slid over his face “are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Well. Those trials were mostly arranged by qoute/unquote ‘gods’ weren’t they?”
“And the King of the Dead, Undead, and Never Dying…” Danny melted himself into a more eldritch appearance. Galaxies twisting around his head, icy claws, nebulas dancing over his skin. His grin stretching with too many razor sharp teeth.
“Sounds a bit more impressive than just a god.” Tuckers voice echoes as he too slid into a less human appearance. Sand replaced skin. The hum of electronics echoed in the hall.
The lone voice of reason, Sam complained at the two grinning monsters. “You two are idiots. Do you really want to torment two teenage boys? Just because Ellie’s dating them and they are baby heroes?”
“Yes.”
“For sure.”
The two men nodded
“…we start off nice, give them handicaps, and let Ellie make the final decision.”
“Yes!!”
“So I shouldn’t bring a casserole, right?”
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sister-lucifer · 1 month
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Alien to Earth 
[Unnamed Alien Creature x Gender Neutral Reader]
Genre: Smut 
Content/warnings: Disembodied smut scene, porn without plot, implied dub con, the alien is male but no gender is specified for reader, penis in ambiguous hole sex, weird monster dick 
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
“I wonder what you’re thinking right now,” it whispers, two of its hands gripping tightly to your thighs, forcing your legs open, a third arm wrapped around you to hold your fragile human body to his chest, and the last with its palm pressing into your lips, keeping you silenced. It’s not moving its hips, not thrusting at all, but its cock slithers slowly in and out of you on its own, expanding and retracting and making sure to hit as deep as it can. It’s easier for the creature that way, to be able to focus on holding you and only that. 
“Maybe you’re not even thinking at all,” it muses aloud without a hint of emotion to its voice, “Perhaps you’re too preoccupied. Human minds can only focus on about three things at any given moment, even two is a struggle, but let’s say you are. Perhaps you’re thinking of me, that would be amusing, wondering how the fates aligned for me to find you here at just this time…”
It sucks in a breath, then exhales slowly, the air filtering out of the cavities in its chest, and you can feel it against your back. It’s harder for it to breathe on this planet. 
“Or perhaps you’re worried about what I’ll do when I’m done with you,” it continues, and the chuckle that follows is dry and unfeeling, a flat imitation of humor, “Perhaps you think I’m a sort of praying mantis, ready to consume you wholly once I’ve finished. Although, a little human like you wouldn’t exactly be filling…”
It seems to consider your body for a moment, adjusting its hold on you a bit but not relaxing its grip for even a second. Its cock starts to undulate a bit faster, stretching out even more and hitting even deeper. You can nearly feel it in your stomach. You wish you could scream. 
Your entire body is spasming with every expansion now, shaking desperately in a futile attempt to cope with the torture this creature is putting it through. You pray every time its cock pulls back that maybe, just maybe it’ll let up this time, but it doesn’t hear you. 
“Perhaps you’re scared,” it goes on, its face now nestled in your neck, “Perhaps you’re worried your primitive human form can’t handle a…mm, what do you call it? A cock of my size, though I performed all necessary calculations to ensure you could. Perhaps you’re worried I’ll split you right down the middle…” 
For the first time, its voice trembles. It’s cock twitches inside you. Something has excited it.
“…Perhaps you’re wondering if you could even survive such a raw ravishing.”
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nanaslutt · 4 months
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Saint Nana, could I have m!reader teaching choso how to give a blowjob while 69ing, A sort of "copy what you feel" situation?
contains: m!reader, inexperienced!Choso, hand jobs, dirty talk, frotting, making out, first orgasm, 69ing, face fucking, multiple orgasms, choking, sooo sloppy and messy, cum eating, blood (choso bites ur neck a little too hard), throat goat Choso, a smidge of assplay :3
note: anyone can read :3 this was so fun to write tysm for the ask
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
“Are you sure you really want this?” You asked, rubbing his already hard cock through his sweats as his lip quivered, watchful eyes on you. “Yes.” He said, his voice accompanied by a nod.
“You’re not forcing yourself?” You asked, gripping his length through the cloth in your hand as you started jerking his cock slowly. He shook his head, gulping hard as his eyes fluttered at the unusual stimulation. “Do you want me to stop touching you so you can really think about it?” You giggled, watching his eyes fight to stay properly forward in their sockets.
“N-no please I.. I want to know what you like.. How.. how to touch you.” He said, taking a deep breath as he spoke clearly, looking into your eyes to make sure you really heard him. “Have you ever touched yourself, Choso?” You asked, making him blush at your question. His dark eyes dropped to watch him stroke his cock, the outline of his cock being too obvious from the way you were grabbing it. "Sort of." He said, looking back up to you for direction. "Sort of?" You asked, encouraging him to expand.
"I don't think I did it right, but I've... touched myself before." He said. He seemed hesitant to talk more about it, so you chalked it up to him either being clumsy or not having made himself orgasm before; both of which were not a problem for you, you were here to show him how it's done after all. "Okay baby, why don't you touch me right now, just like I'm doing to you?" You said, scooting closer toward him on the bed from where the two of you sat on the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor.
"Okay." He nodded after a brief second. He reached a shaky hand over to your lap and felt up the same spot you were groping him at. It took him a second to figure out how your cock was laying under your pants, but he eventually wrapped his own hand around your girth. Choso's breath hitched when he felt your cock twitch in his hold, making you smile at his reaction. "So just.." The curse spoke, wrapping his fingers around his cock the best he could while his thumb rested near the tip.
You felt a dull warmth blossom in your stomach at the feeling of finally getting some form of relief. "Yeah, grab it a little harder it's not gonna break." You giggled, making him blush as he tightened his grip and matched your strokes on his own cock, to yours. "You like it?" You ask, noticing how his gaze was glued to your cock, his tongue occasionally poking out between his lips to wet them-- realizing how empty his mouth was. "Yeah, you're really big." He said like it was nothing. Your cock sure as hell didn't take it like it was nothing-- throbbing under his hand at his praise, you almost felt a little embarrassed.
"You're pretty big yourself Choso." You said, biting your lip as you watched the way a dark patch started forming where the tip of his cock was. "You're so wet 'ur leakin' through 'ur pants already." You giggled, making him pause his efforts slightly as his eyes fluttered in his head when you squeezed your hand on his tip tighter. "Am I not supposed to?" He asked, looking down at his lap as he wet his lips with his tongue, feeling a heat grow in his pelvis the longer he watched you stroke him off.
"Thats not what I meant." You laughed, making him look up at you. With your free hand you grabbed the side of his face and caressed it, bringing your hand down to grab the bottom half of his chin as you leaned in. His eyes rapidly fluttered between your lips and your lust filled eyes the closer you got. He swore his breath stoping coming all together when you leaned inches from his face. "Im saying it turns me on how sensitive you are." You whisper against his lips, making a deep whine spill from his lips before you crashed your mouth with his.
"M-mmm" He moaned into the kiss, his strokes picking up on your cock again. The kiss started off slow and sensual, but quickly fell into a more needy pace, filled with heavy breathing and stuttered moans. Choso's eyes shot open when he felt your warm fingers slide under the band of his sweats and boxers alike, and rub him directly. Your own eyes cracked open to gauge his reaction, the two of you gazing into the others eyes before you closed them once more and giggled into his mouth before pulling away. His mouth tried to chase yours, his jaw slack and face red with the intensity of the kiss as he leaned into you, opting to lay his forehead int he crook of your shoulder when you dodged his kiss.
You used your other hand to pull his sweats down slightly so you could pull his cock out, your mouth watering at how big he really was-- the bulge under his pants barely did him justice. He had a lot of nerve saying you were big when his was twice as thick as at least a couple inches longer than yours. Maybe he really was just that clueless. "Fuck, how have you kept this thing a secret for so long huh?" You practically moaned. His cock was such a pretty shape, and the color of his flushed tip made your own cock drip with pre.
"I don't know-" He said honestly, cutting himself off with a moan when you rotated your hand around his tip and spread his pre down the length of his cock to ease the slide. "Feels really- really good." He said with a shaky voice, biting his lip. He was getting too absorbed in his pleasure, sure you loved making him feel good, and seeing him like this was a treat, but your own cock was aching too and his pathetic squeezes and stuttered stroking weren't doing it for you.
"Yeah? Wanna touch me like this too?" You asked, pushing him along. A grin spread across your face when he nodded. You watched him in real time try to pull himself together for you, he must've remembered he was here so you could teach him how to touch you- not the other way around. Not that you minded much. With no more aid from you, he pulled down your pants the same way you did to him- and held your breath as you felt his calloused hand slide into your pants teasingly and hesitantly before he pulled the appendage free and wrapped his hand around it, his eyes getting a full unobstructed view of your cock.
His jaw fell slack as he watched himself jerk you off. You felt a fat drip of pre slide down his tip and join the rest of the wetness coating his cock, making you smile. "You like what you see?" You asked, studying his face intently as he stroked you off, matching your movements on his own cock. "Yes, Its so warm." He said astonished.
Choso had tried to masturbate before but he always stopped himself right before he came whenever he tried. Part of him was afraid of what would happen, but sometimes he was too stimulated to work himself up to that point of arousal, his strokes always losing that perfect rhythm the closer he got to cumming, which always ended up in a failed orgasm as he unintentionally edged himself repeatedly.
His body jerked forward and his free hand came down to grab your wrist and stop your movements on his cock entirely when you sped up. He squeezed his eyes shut before letting out a shaky breath and speaking, "Could you.. stop touching me for a second?" He asked sweetly. "I cant focus on touching you when you're.." He paused, looking around, "Jerking you off?" You finished for him, making him nod at your words. The way this big man acted so coy around this kind of stuff shouldn't have made you as hard as it did, but he was just so cute.
"Yeah baby, no problem." You smiled, retracting your hand as you placed both behind you and leaned back into them, giving Choso more room to lean in and touch you freely. Now that he had a clearer head, he reached turned his body towards you, folding one of his knees on the bed; heavy cock hanging freely in the air; and wrapped his massive palm over your cock again.
Now that he wasn't actively feeling the pace you had set on his own member, he struggled to find a rhythm at first, but the sloppy movements felt good nonetheless. He watched with his mouth hung open in a small o as your eyes fluttered shut and your head tipped back, revealing your strong adams appple to his observant eyes. He took the chance to freely stalk your body with his eyes. He ran them over your thighs, the veins on your arms, your pecs under your shirt, all of it.
Choso's heavy cock leaked pre cum like a facet all over his sweats and the sheets in front of him. It twitched like crazy from him just watching you feel the pleasure he was giving you. He gulped when you wrapped your hand around his on your cock and helped him find a more suitable rhythm, all while keeping your eyes shut and head back as you absorbed the stimulation. "Squeeze like this- y-yeah just like that-" You groaned when he followed your instructions immediately and to the T, stroking you in a more coherent pattern as he rotated his wrist around your sensitive tip.
He frowned slightly when your hand retracted to perch behind you once again; a sight your eyes missed; but he decided to take the initiative at the absence of your hand. He stroked his hand up to your tip and rubbed his thumb along your slit, smearing the pre-cum that was on the skin there, making your breath hitch followed by a pretty moan that made Choso's stomach turn over. "Do you like that?" You heard his deep voice whisper cautiously into the air.
"Yes baby~" You whined, bucking your hips slightly on instinct into his hand. "I guess you're sensitive too." He said, a small, barely noticeable smile creeping onto his face, which you caught as you tipped your chin down and opened your eyes to smile at him. "It's your fault, you're a pro~" You praised, making him blush as he went back to stroking your cock steadily.
"Can I.." Choso started, licking his lips as he stared at yours, red from how often you had bitten them. "Can we kiss again?" He asked, not waiting for your answer before he started leaning in again, leaning his chest over yours. "You like kissin' me?" you said teasingly, laying back on your forearms as he slowly crawled on top of you, sliding his big thighs under yours, making you spread your legs to welcome him; your cock still being jerked off slowly in his ridiculously warm hand.
"Yeah, it feels good." He said, placing his arm next to your head and biting his lip, placing his lips just centimeters from yours. "You like feeling good huh?" You whispered against his lips, the two of you opening and closing your lips teasingly, licking your lips as you waited for the other to close the distance. He nodded, "Like when I rub your cock~" You continued, lowering your voice as you touched your lips to his but didn't dare move.
Choso's breath was picking up, his hand surprisingly still keeping its slow, tantalizing rubbing on your shaft. "Bet you'll like it even more when you feel it down my throat." You said quietly, making him groan against your lips as you finally closed the distance. His hand sped up drastically on your cock when the two of you started slotting your lips against one another. The both of you panting and whining into the other's mouth, your hands roaming over the expanse of his large back as he jerked you off at the perfect tempo.
"Rub them together." You rushed between kisses, "I'll show you." You slid one of your own hands between your body and grabbed his hand and pulled it off of your own member before you thrust your hips up so your cock nudged his. He panted heavier into your mouth when he felt it touch his. You wrapped your hand around both of your cocks, struggling with how girthy he was. You could barely wrap your hand around him alone, so the both of you was a bit of a challenge.
"Help me out." You whispered against his lips before you licked your tongue out to his, testing the waters. His body jolted at the feeling of your tongue trying to push into his mouth. Choso tried hard to focus on what was going on up top, and down below, it was all too much. He pulled away, gasping for air, and you thought the tongue was too much. "Sorry, not ready for that yet?" You panted, staring up at him with swollen lips and a flushed face; he thought you were the most beautiful person he'd ever seen.
"No!" He said too quickly "No, sorry I, there's too much going on." He said, biting his lip at the feeling of you squeezing the base of your cocks together in your smaller hand. "You're right, sorry baby." You couldn't help but feel bad. You had let the pleasure overwhelm you and cloud your senses. Choso was a virgin, and as horny as you were, you needed to take it slow with him-- for right now at least.
"I know you wanna kiss me, but let's start with this right now." You said, gaining your composure back. "I might be being a little selfish, but I might die If I don't feel your cock rubbing against mine right now." You giggled, easing the tension in the air slightly. He nodded, looking down where the two of you were pressed together. "You're really big, so I need you to help me jerk us off." You said nodding, looking at his flushed face. "Do I do the same thing as before?" He asked, uncertainly as he wrapped his large hand easily over both of your cocks and your hand alike, making your stomach flutter at the realization of how big he was everywhere.
You swallowed and took a deep breath before you spoke, "Yes, just like before." You said. He licked his lips before starting up a pace for the two of you. A 'sclick' sound bounced off the walls at how wet the two of you were. You didn't expect his clumsy movements to feel this good, but you had to actively fight off the whines that wanted to spill from your throat. The two of you stared between each other as you jerked off together, both breathing heavily.
"M-move your hips, pretend you're fucking me." You instructed a gasp leaving your lips when his cock rubbed against yours in a more stimulating way as he met his thrusts with your strokes. "Like this?" He asked, looking at your face for approval. "Yes-yes j-just like that." You groaned, tipping your head back into the sheets as his warm cock humped against your own. "You look so hot.." Choso whispered, "I like when your head rolls back like that.." He shamelessly admits, catching you off guard as his words fluster you.
"Y-yeah?" You ask, not being able to say much as his thrusts pick up. The sudden need to bite the throat you had exposed to him washed over his brain as he leaned forward and placed his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "Yeah, I can tell when you're feeling good when you do that." his deep voice spoke. You were unable to stop the whine that slipped through your lips at his dirty words, moan after moan falling from them freely now as he fully took. control of what was happening below your waist.
"I like the sounds you make too." He continued, licking your neck with his warm tongue before he sunk his teeth into the flesh. You cried out, placing your other hand on the back of his neck as you gripped your nails into the skin there and pushed him against you. "C-choso!" You whined, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten feeling his teeth break your flesh, quickly the feeling was replaced by his tongue that soothed the marking there.
"I like it when you say my name too, It makes me feel all hot." Where did this bold and shameless person come from? He was giving you whiplash from how he had gone from coy and shy to this overbearing confident man who had taken full control of the situation. "C-choso-" You wined again, feeling his lips suck hickeys into your neck. "Yeah, like that," He mumbled against your sweet skin.
Choso had no idea what he was doing, he was just listening to his instincts and what he thought felt right in the moment. Clearly, he was doing something right because you were squirming under him, your cock was twitching more frequently, and your moans were raising in pitch, the latter making his stomach feel all funny.
"Oh fuck Choso- Im gonna cum-" You moaned, pressing his head harder into your neck as he continued to leave little kisses and bites all over the expanse of your neck. He wasn't totally sure what 'cuming' was, but he was thinking he was going to do the same, the warm feeling in his stomach was getting stronger, something that had happened to him before. This was usually where he would have to stop because the stimulation would make his movement sloppy and not feel like enough-- but with you under him crying out his name, and your own weak thrusts against his cock as you aided in stroking your members was making him spiral into his impending orgasm.
"M-me too I think.. a-ahh-" He whined, sucking your skin into his mouth harder as he bit the same skin to ground himself, his teeth sinking deeper and deeper the stronger the feeling in his stomach grew. "Fuck- fuck me Choso F-uck me!" You whined, gasping into the air. Choso's breath hitched when he felt it, his first orgasm. You must've come at the same exact time because the two of you made similar sounds and movements as your highs washed over you.
Your combined strokes got sloppier and slower as you jerked and humped each other through your highs. Your nails dug into the back of his neck strong enough to break the skin as your jaw dropped and profanities along with Choso's name spilled from your lips. Choso's own moans were louder now agaisnt you as his body jerked forward, his abs clenching under the strength of his orgasm. He released your neck from his teeth as he laid his forehead into the crook of your shoulder, feeling warm spurts of cum shoot out of his cock and land somewhere on your body.
Your orgasm ended before yours, your body going slack against the sheets as you twitched in overstimulation from Choso stroking himself through the aftershocks of his own high. He leaned up from your neck, red faces and crimson smeared on his lip as he sat back on his heels and admired the mess he made. The both of you released your hand from your combined cocks, noticing how the both of you were still hard.
"Fuck, you came so much." You smirked, pulling up your shirt and showing off your stomach covered in Choso and your combined cum as you rubbed it around on your skin. "Sorry." He said, rubbing your thigh as his cock twitched watching you mix the cum together. "Don't be, means you felt good." You smiled, biting your lip as you looked up through your lidded gaze at him. "No, I mean.." The man leaned forward and placed his hand on your neck, rubbing the bloodied spot on your neck with his thumb, "I made you bleed." He said, apologetically.
Your hand came to wrap itself around his wrist and rubbed at the delicate skin there. "It's okay, it felt good." You said, easing his nerves. "Don't say that, it's dangerous." He blushed, pulling his hand away from your throat as he laid it back on your thigh. You giggled, "Worried you'll hurt me?" You bit your lips teasingly as you placed your hand on your chest like you were some delicate maiden. "I'm stronger than you think ~" You teased, making him advert his gaze, instead looking back to your cock that, much like his, was still hard and bobbing in the air.
"You're still hard," Choso said, stating the obvious. "Of course I am, you think a little frotting is enough to satisfy me?" You giggled. "Looks like this wasn't enough for you either, big guy~" You teased, pulling the tip of his cock down with your pointer finger and watching it spring back up between the two of you. The man blushed, gripping your thighs in his strong hands. "What do we do now?" He asked, falling right back into that lost sheep behavior you knew so well. "Wanna learn how to suck a cock?"
--
Choso was now face to face with your dick, just inches away from his mouth as it twitched in front of him. You were on top of the man, facing away from him as you stradled your legs around his chest and came face to face with his own dick as you stroked it slowly in your hands. "Its simple really, just do what I do. Whatever you feel on your own cock, try to replicate on me~" You instructed, poking your tongue between your lips as you kitten licked the pre-cum off of his tip.
"O-okay." He stuttered, feeling way more nervous now that he couldn't see your face. Putting your cock in his mouth felt dangerous, but by the little lick he felt on his cock, he couldn't disagree that it felt really good. "Keep your teeth back though." You added, "I know I said Im strong, but I might pass out if you bite my cock." You laughed, making your cock throb in front of Choso's face. He nodded although you couldn't see him. "Last thing~" You said, arching your back when you felt him wrap his own hand around your cock and begin to rub it. "Let me know before you cum, I don't wanna choke~" You teased, making him blush at the implication of him cumming in your mouth.
With that, you took his cock into your mouth and started sucking. You moaned around the mushroom tip as you wet the first couple inches of his cock with your mouth, stroking what couldn't yet fit in your mouth as you adjusted to the stretch. Choso moaned loudly, making you hum around his girth as you dropped your head lower and lower. Because he was unable to see what you were doing, every touch, lick, suck, and hum felt that much more intense. He had never gotten his cock sucked before, so he didn't know what to expect, but he quickly realized why this was a thing.
Would you feel like this when he did this to you? "Hey, don't leave me hangin' lover boy~" You cooed, popping off his dick and stroking it in his hand before you went back to sucking his cock, taking it deeper down your throat this time around. His eyes rolled back into his head before he focused on the task at hand. The position was a little awkward but he thoroughly enjoyed the view of your full balls and tight asshole right before his eyes.
Taking a deep breath to calm his heart that threatened to beat out of his chest, he aimed your cock towards his mouth and sucked the tip into his ridiculously warm mouth. He felt the vibrations from your pleased moans around his girth as he lifted his head up to take your cock deeper in his mouth, mimicking what you had done. He pushed himself a little too far, too fast as your cock hit the back of his throat, making him gag around your cock.
He stayed strong though, keeping your dick in his mouth he pulled back slightly before using his hand to stroke what he couldn't fit in his mouth. "Jesus christ~ Your mouth is so fucking warm-" You moaned, popping your mouth off of his dick to breath as he rolled his tongue around your head. "Fuckkk- Choso- do that again-" You moaned, your back arching and eyebrows raising as you laid your head agaisnt his thigh, stroking his cock lazily.
He obliged, licking his cock around your head and along the prominent vein that ran down your cock, making you release a long groan of approval. "Fuuuuck baby, Im not gonna last long at alll~" You laughed before picking up your head and taking his cock into your mouth, trying to work him up to his second orgasm of the night so you didn't cum before him.
Choso felt your lips slowly slide down the length of his cock, feeling your hand place itself on his thigh as you sucked him hands-free, taking his massive cock to the hilt and bobbing your head repeatedly over it. It felt fucking amazing, the way you moaned and gagged around him, your throat squeezing him in the process, he wanted you to feel that too.
So he did just that, he removed his hand and placed it on your thigh, right under your ass cheek as he took your cock deeper into his throat. "mhm-mhmmm~" He heard you moan around his length in approval at his ministration, giving him the push he needed to fight through the gags and focus on breathing through his nose, as that seemed to help take your cock easier. You popped off his cock to speak, your voice whiny and strained when you spoke, "C-can I fuck your throat? You can fuck mine if you want too it'll feel soooo good I promise." You begged, turning your head to look at him as you made eye contact.
He nodded his head to the best of his ability, making a lustful grin spread across your face. "Good boy, place your feet on the bed and do what I do, kay?" You instructed, waiting to take him back into your mouth until he had his feet situated on the bed so he was able to fuck your throat easier. "Relax your throat and breathe through your nose, tap my thigh twice if you need me to stop." He moaned around your cock, letting you know he heard your words.
You giggled at how eager he was, not once stopping his ministrations on your cock while you explained what to do. Choso could not get enough of your smell, your taste, your reactions, all of it. He was feeling so dizzy, and it wasn't because of the lack of oxygen. You took his massive cock back into your mouth and braced yourself for what was to come before you started humping your own hips into his mouth.
Choso's head was forced against the sheets as he let you use his mouth, tears forming in his eyes as he fought through the gags and did his best to roll his tongue around your cock as you did the same for him. Tears of your own had already spilled down your cheeks as he fucked his hips meanly into your mouth; the vulgar choking and squelching sounds emanating from the both of you filling the room.
You felt the knot tie itself tighter in your pelvis as you let the large man abuse your mouth with his ridiculous cock, taking breaths in through your nose when you had the chance. What you weren't expecting was to feel his fingers rubbing at the rim of your ass, making your eyes shoot open at the sudden feeling. You reluctantly pulled your mouth off of his cock as your loud wines and moans filled the room, laying your head on his thigh as it jolted around as you relaced your mouth with your hand, making the man hump his cock into your fist.
"Ah- ah- ah-'s" fell from your lips as he rapidly drew small circles against your rim with his fingers, occasionally pressing against it and making you wonder if he was really going to put his fingers inside right now. "Fuck! Fuck Choso- Choso Im gonna cum!" You wined feeling the vibrations of his moans jolt through your sensitive cock as his hips lost their pace into your fist. Thinking fast, you placed his tip into your mouth and stroked the rest of his cock, working him up to his orgasm.
You squeezed your eyes shut, your thrusts growing erratic before your hips stilled entirely and you shot warm roped of cum down his throat. Choso gagged and sputtered around your dick as he tried to swallow your load. His own orgasm not aiding in his efforts to breathe properly as he came hard into your mouth. You stuck your tongue out and jerked him off as hot ropes of cum splattered over your face, your tongue darting out to lick up the streaks on your lips you had missed.
You lifted your hips up as your cock slipped out of his mouth. Immediately the room was filled with coughs and deep breaths as Choso choked down air greedily into his lungs, the hand that was teasing your rim coming down to rub his throat as he gripped your ankle for support. You smiled as you took his cock into your mouth one last time to lick it clean; the man moaned in oversensitivity; before you popped off with a lewd "ahh!" and sat your ass down on his chest.
You turned your body around to sit on his lower stomach and smile down at his messy face smeared with tears, cum, and spit, and his hair all messed up, pointing in every which way while he stared with an open mouth up at you. You giggled, leaning down to wipe your hands over his drenched cheeks and clean him up a bit as he closed his eyes and let you take care of him. "You're such a good fucking boy Choso." you praised, making him crack his eyes open as a crimson blush spread itself deeper across his face.
He silently brought his hand up to your face, collecting his cum on his thumb before he instinctively brought it down to your lips and waited for you to open up. "You know just what you want, huh?" You teased, sticking out your tongue as you let him slide his thumb into your mouth. You rolled it around in your mouth, taking it as deep as you could as you sucked off his salty cum and let him pull it out with a pop. "I really liked that." He said, staring at his now clean thumb in disbelief before he looked back into your eyes.
"I bet you did, thought you were gonna finger me at the end there~" You laughed, smoothing out the damp hair around his face to make him look more presentable. "Sorry, it just looked so.. cute." He said, rendering you speechless. You stared at him incredulously, with an open-mouthed smile on your face before you broke out into laughter. "Well maybe the two of you should get more familiar with each other sometime~" You cooed, giggling as his hands rubbed soothingly on your thighs. "I'd like that a lot." He genuinely smiled back at you.
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emotionoitme · 9 months
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i bet carmy has the dirtiest mouth when youre sucking his dick. he cannot keep his mouth shut. its just absolutely filthy and almost a little condescending but mixed with praise and its the hottest thing in the world
UGH you know he says the nastiest stuff fr especially when he’s really into it
idk why the thought of him sounding all condescending gets me going LOL
a hot wave of pleasure washes over him as she lowers her mouth back onto him. the muscles of his abdomen flex, covered in a light sheen of sweat, gripping the girl’s hair, pulling it out of the way for her ease of access.
“fuck,” he utters, shifting his hips forward for her to further accommodate him, “you know you look so pretty like this?”
her eyes come to meet his, mouth engulfed over the length of his shaft, gagging herself slightly before pulling off of him. her face and body feel hot, trying to brush off his comment, arousal spreading between her thighs. she gives a wet kiss to his tip with swollen lips then sinks her mouth back onto him.
“that’s it, baby,” he encourages on her way down, “good fuckin’ girl,” voice a growl, pushing her down to take him slightly deeper. she quickly brings her free hand down between her legs, slowly circling the bundle of nerves—between the tone of his voice and the sounds he was making she had found it increasingly difficult to continue without trying to satisfy the intense tingling throughout her body. carmy follows her hand, low rumble of a groan slipping from his lips.
“jesus christ,” he mumbles, feeling her jaw slightly relax around him, watching her pleasure herself. “can’t wait for me to touch ‘ya?” he asks, teeth grit, “hm?” tugging on her hair. she lets out a small wine around his thickness, the slow movement of her fingers continuing, burning under the heat of his gaze. a knot expands in her stomach, other hand gripping onto carmen’s thigh tightly, trying to physically hold on as she swirls her tongue around him.
“you better not make yourself cum,” he threatens, eyes trained on the girl. she feels a quiver jolt through her body, saliva pooling down his cock to his pubic hair, the emitting sounds increasingly obscene. she opens her mouth wide, licking a stripe from the base to the tip, now panting and red-faced from the sensation on her clit, arousal further heightened knowing she was coming up on an orgasm she wasn’t supposed to be. her fingers slip through the wetness of her folds, bucking against her hand, amazed at the sensitivity. she feels a yank to her hair, head tugged back, eyes on carmen’s.
“what i just say?” he questions with a furrow of his brow, jaw set tightly in place. she continues stroking him with her slicked up hand, squeezing.
“i can’t help it,” she whimpers, fingers still circling, “it feels so good, carm,” hearing a throaty grunt rip through the man at her disobedient desperation. her panting cries increase in amplitude, leaning forward and forcing her mouth back down onto him. every nerve electrified, heart pounding in ears.
“that all it take for you to get off?” he asks lowly, “touchin’ yourself while you suck me? so fuckin’ easy,” watching closely as she bobs her head, mouth too full to give anything else than a whine in response. carmy feels himself tumbling towards the edge, hips thrusting up into her mouth, feeling her throat constrict around him. the pace of her fingers accelerate, eyes brimming with tears, body beginning to shake as her orgasm tears through her, sinking down as deeply onto him as she could physically take. his words and tone reverberate through her ears as she falls slightly limp, hand coming to his thigh, allowing the man to use her mouth as he pleases.
“yes,” he strains, fucking into her throat, grabbing as much of her as he can reach. his climax unexpectedly crashes against him in a white hot wave, every muscle in his body tense, shooting his cum into her mouth. his eyes are fixed on her as she graciously accepts his load, swallowing, a glimmer in her eyes.
“you like that, don’t you?” he mutters in a gravelly tone, hand coming to stroke the side of her face, “so good for me, baby,”
she pulls off of his length, eagerly cleaning him off with her tongue, pressing a long kiss to the sensitive head, locking eyes with the man.
“my turn,” a small grin on her face.
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sprout-fics · 1 year
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König would absolutely adore it when you fuck yourself silly on his cock. Struggle to take all of him at start but just to stubborn to stop yes. There is foreplay and lube involved. Still the first stretch is always intense. His eyes are hungry and blown out, his hands on your ass and hibs, urging you forward. Will stuff your mouth with one or two fingers to keep.them nice and wet to play with your clit. I headcanon him from Vienna- which is in Austria-because they have this kind of slow, a bit pretentious dialect that I absolutely adore. Will not stop talking to you, praising you, will slip into german more and more the more worked up he gets. There is a lot of cursing.
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(The things this gif is doing to me rn...)
Anon this thot has been living rent free in my head for days.
You’re shivering on top of him.
Palms planted on his stomach, your fingers tease the line of hair that extends down ast his belly button. Coarse, trimmed, an arrow guiding the way down, down to the base of him. König’s hands are smoothing down your hips, circling in a ceaseless pattern across your flesh. The gesture leaves ripples in its wake, like stones skipping across a pond. The reverberations echo down into your bones, into the place where you’re both connected. 
He’s stuffed you full.
Fuller than you’ve ever been. Your cunt is stretched obscenely around him, lips sealing around his cock with a snug, velvet embrace. The slick of you coats your thighs, his stomach. It seems to spill everywhere, evidence of your pooling desire that flickers low in your stomach, a bright burning thing hungry for fuel.
Hungry for him.
It’s on the brink of being too much. The length of him nudges inside you, a blunting, unrelenting pressure that makes your breath shudder free of your chest and your toes curl. Yet there’s a victory in your bones, a triumph that has a smile spread across your swollen, tender lips. He said it couldn’t be done but you’d persisted, ever the soldier. Now, with his massive cock seated deep inside you you realize the battle is only half beginning. 
“Schiesse.” König curses under you when you flex experimentally around him, and suddenly his thumbs dig into your hips hard enough to bruise. He doesn’t know his own strength, and its that exact reason he let you do as you please, sinking down and down and down on him until you thought every inch would be the last, only to be roved wrong yet and yet again. 
There’s a crack, a whimper to his voice as he restrains himself, sucking hard on his teeth and keeing the feral, untameable urge to buck into you tightly under control. The instinct is dulled by his ceaseless words, cooing endless praise and encouragement up at you from where he lays prone beneath you. 
“That’s it, liebling. You feel so good, so perfect. Are you ok? Hurting? You’re so warm. So pretty, like a little bird.”
When you raise yourself off him though, those words vanish into a strangled groan, and your hands have to fly down to his wrists to keep him from securing you to him with a white-knuckle grip. The slide of his length against the silky, slickened clench of your cunt is nothing less than ambroisal. You think you’re drinking nectar from the gods, the way you cling to him even as you pull away, and your whispered sacraments spill from your lips as a high, breathy moan.
König whimpers, a prayer for mercy. You’ve none to give, lost in the heady, lustrous sensation of him,  the monstrous stretch of him inside you, setting you on fire from the inside out until there’s nothing but ashes. 
“G-Gott.” He whispers, but the sound is choked. “Again, liebling, please? Please.”
When he asks like that, how can you refuse?
It takes a few tries at first, but eventually you set a slow, plunging ace that has you rocking your hips against him with every downthrust. It fractures at his restraint, words slurring together as the cracks inside him deepen, expand. Still, he promised to be good, to let you do things your way, the head of him nudging at just the right angle to make you toss your head back, let your shoulders shudder with a broken sigh. 
“K-König.” You manage, and even then the air is forced from your lungs when he groans, lets that control of his slip just long enough to buck into you-
The pleasure is so sharp and sudden it laces up your spine, across your hips and into your throat where it stifles into a choke.
“Tut mir leid.” He mutters instantly, fingers intertwining with yours as your chest rises with your next gasp of air, eyes staring down at him but not seeing, drunk on pleasure. “Schonne leib, tut mir leid.”
Your lips are open, drinking in air like it’s your life support, mindlessly rocking against him now, blindly chasing after the pleasure that he’s tempted you with. You see his eyes, see his pupils eclipsing his irises with that same drunken desire, absolved of sin when he’s ever present in your grace. 
His thumb raises, presses down on the plump, lush fullness of your bottom lip. It’s an impulsive gesture, one of many when it comes to him, but you reward it with one of your own. Leaning forward, you encircle the digit with your tongue, wetting it and then sucking.
König growls.
It’s the deep, rumbling, primal sound that echoes endlessly down into his chest, something with fangs that want to seize you, tear you open and devour you.
When he ventures another finger you accept it wordlessly, hips grinding down against his pelvis so the head of him bumps against the plug of your womb. One hand tangled with him, you give small, deep thrusts down onto him- having to gasp around his thick, calloused digits for the air he forces from your lungs with every thrust. 
“Ich möchte-” He starts, grunting as you reflexively flutter around him at the sound of his voice. “-Want to stay inside you forever. Just like this.”
When he asks like that, you think for sure you’ll let him.
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Hi again! May I also please request some headcanons of what being married to various Star Wars characters is like?
Various Star Wars Characters Headcanons: What being Married to them is like.
Hi, of course you can! I'm sorry it took me so long to finish this, but hopefully it will be worth the wait. I'm going to get started on your other request as soon as I am able, and also, I didn't add Cal to this one given how lengthy it already is, but feel free to ask me to. Oh, one last thing, if anyone wants to request Wedding Day or Proposals Headcanons you absolutely can, I would have added them in this one, but as I've said, it's way too long. Enjoy!
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Obi-Wan Kenobi:
-I am absolutely convinced Obi-Wan would make the perfect husband, if his way of life didn't get as in the way as it does. Still, if he has decided to marry you, he surely has gotten over any conflicting feelings about breaking the code, and has made you and your marriage his absolute top priority. Obi-Wan is nothing if not a deeply committed man, and once he is pouring all of it on you, you can be certain he will fight to make your relationship work against each and every odd. 
-Obi-Wan is, most of all, a caring and attentive partner. He always makes the most of the time you spend together, and never makes you feel clingy or annoying if the separation ever gets to you. He never forgets your anniversaries or what and where your "firsts" together have been, and his gifts, while not necessarily expensive, are always super thought out.
-He is an amazing communicator with basically endless patience, fights with him are practically nonexistent, and even when they do happen he goes about it super rationally and never ever raises his voice. He would bend himself backwards for your happiness and safety and he always pays attention to make sure you are 100% comfortable with him, and with coming to him about any issues or feelings you might have.
-Obi-Wan proposed to you with the intention of letting you know just how committed he is to the family you are building together and how much he trusts you. So really, jealousy is definitely not an issue in your marriage.  Still, nobody knows about it, not even Ani, even though he and a few other close friends definitely suspect something. Especially because Obi-Wan absolutely refuses to not have his wedding ring hidden somewhere on his person. (There have been... a few close calls because of it, you're both lucky he can charm his way out of almost anything.)
-He is very domestic, or at least does his best to be, with his duties in the way and all. He always tries to cook at least one meal for you, and he absolutely adores coming home to you and something you've prepared for him (no matter how good you are at it. Honestly if you're still learning, he is your number one supporter and encourager.) He never complains about chores and does his best to make them enjoyable for the both of you, if you have something you'd rather not do, whatever it is he is more than happy to take over.
-Obi-Wan is great with children, and if you decided to have some after the fall of the Order, he would be an amazing dad. Just keep in mind that he might be quite a bit more apprehensive/protective after you are forced into hiding, he blames himself for a lot of things and it might take a while for him to be ready to expand your family. But don't worry, once you both find some peace again he will be ecstatic about it, after all, there's nothing in the Universe worth more than you guys.
Anakin Skywalker:
-Anakin wouldn't be a bad husband by any means, but he's got some work to do on himself you might have to help him through. Still, I assure you, he would do his absolute damned best to be great for you, and he would love you more than it should be humanly possible. Nothing could ever even come close to meaning as much as you do to him, he would literally let the whole galaxy burn if it made you happy. Which might, depending on you, be one of those tendencies you should pull him away from. Or don't, no judgment here.
Anyway, what matters the most is: Anakin is devoted.
-Ani is very empathetic, especially when it comes to you. Sometimes you feel like he might understand your moods even better than you do, which means, as soon as he feels like you might be even a little bit sad or stressed, Ani is dropping everything to come cheer you up. Which no doubt will get him in trouble, but it's not like he cares. He can be a bit clingy/overprotective of you, honestly. Again, if you want him to be a bit more responsible then you're gonna have to help him work on it. Won't ever forget your "firsts" or anniversaries, but gifts are not really his forte, so except a few handmade pieces every now and again he would much rather celebrate by going somewhere and creating new memories together.
-While he has no trouble at all understanding you, Ani has quite a few problems with communicating himself and his thoughts. Half the time he tells you every little detail of what's going through his mind, which could easily lead to him overthinking if you don't help him calm down. And every other time he can't even get his mouth open to tell you how his day is going, which usually happens when he is particularly upset about something, luckily it's easy to tell it's happening and you won't have too much trouble coaxing it out of him (He really really wants to tell you everything, he just doesn't know where to even begin.) So, even though fights can happen quite often, mostly because Ani tends to be a bit emotional about things he cares for, they are easily resolved. He refuses to go to sleep without you/knowing you mad at him, so really, they don't last more than a few hours.
-Anakin proposed to you shortly after you confessed your feelings for each other, seeing no point in waiting since he knows with his entire heart that you are his other half.  Jealousy might be a little bit of an issue, mostly because nobody knows that you two belong to each other and the secrecy drives him up the walls, and as I've said, Ani can be a bit hot-blooded about what he loves. But honestly, it's an easy fix, just don't spend more time with someone else than you do him, and let him hold you close if he needs it.
-Speaking of the secrecy, Ani didn't even think twice about breaking the code for you, what makes you think he wouldn't try to scream how much he loves you from every rooftop in Coruscant? Honestly, unless you don't mind all the endless problems that you and especially him would have to face with the Jedi Order, you're gonna have to be really convincing to make him see reason.  And even then, he's not going to act like you're not the most important person in his life, or accept that he can't kiss you whenever you feel like it, or be ashamed of displaying his wedding ring. The best he's going to do is probably move the both of you behind a column or something... as if that wouldn't be suspicious in a room full of force sensitives. So really, your relationship is only a secret because the people around you would rather pretend it is. Mostly because they recognise that you are good for him, Obi-Wan most of all.
-Anakin might not be the best at taking care of the house, or have much patience for chores, but he's not gonna leave all the burden to you. He's going to help until he completely runs out of patience and then he's going to distract both of you and make it a "tomorrow's" problem. I feel like he'd be great with kids if you decided to have them, especially if he's gotten away from the Order. And also, having them might really help him mature/become a little more responsible, he really wants to do right by you. 
Luke Skywalker:
-Luke is a sweetheart whose first priority is always his family, and that really shines through in your marriage. I mean, have you seen him with his father? There's nothing you could do that would make Luke give up on you, ever. He thinks the world of you no matter what, and he never blames you whenever you can't be the best version of yourself. Saying he's an understanding partner would be putting it very lightly.
-Luke treats you as if you were his shining light in the darkness, his saving grace, the beacon of hope in his life. He always wants you to feel appreciated and valued, and he does his absolute best to let you know that through his actions and words, but you can see it the most when any type of celebration comes up. He has a list of all the things you casually mention during conversations that you might want or need, and he gifts them to you any time he has even just a slight excuse to.
-Luke is also a great communicator, and he always keeps his calm during conflicts. He does his absolute best to put himself in your shoes if you disagree on something, and even when he can't he never makes you feel like your opinion is "wrong". Even though he might seem a bit plaintive to those who don't know him well, Luke only brings up even really small issues to avoid either of you stewing on it needlessly. It's much easier in the long run to just get things off your chest, and reach an understanding. So in the end, while disagreements surely happen, they extremely rarely evolve into fights.
-Luke proposed to you out of the simple and pure desire to be able to call you his family. There's nothing that brings him more joy than catching a glimpse of either his or your own ring shining on your fingers. It's like the physical proof that he is yours as you are his, that he has a home he belongs to. Leia and Han love you to bits, the happiness you bring to the family and most importantly to Luke, is the best thing they could've asked for. Han would say he knew you two would get together from the very start, but honestly, it was Leia who just felt it. Either way, the chemistry you two shared would have been hard to miss, which is why Luke didn't have much of a choice in telling them about your relationship. (It's difficult to keep feelings secret when your twin sister is force sensitive.)
-Luke isn't a jealous man by nature, but really, the sheer trust he has in you and what you two have is more than enough for him to never be bothered by those who flirt with you. And honestly, he understands them, how could they not want to, he's just unbelievably glad that out of everyone, you chose him.
-Luke is amazing at taking care of the house, (the perks of growing up on a farm) he never leaves messes behind, he knows how to cook, and any chore will be carried out efficiently and without complaints. His way of life is simple and peaceful, like a true Jedi, and depending on you, you'll either be the most homely and tranquil couple the galaxy has ever seen, or you will bring fun and excitement into his life and you'll balance each other out. Either way, he is amazing at going with the flow.
-For as much as your family means to him, Luke might still be a little hesitant about having kids. It's not as if he doesn't want them, stars no, but he has quite a few worries. Most of all, he fears turning out like his own father, and how fragmented and unsteady the Galaxy is, even after the victory of the rebellion. Honestly he just wants them to be happy and have an easier life than he did, which he's deadly afraid of not being able to provide. It might take a while to reassure him, and you'd have to be patient, but he's going to be the happiest man in the whole Universe as soon as he's holding your child in his arms, so it's gonna be worth it.
Han Solo:
-It would take a while for Han to realize that hey, this is serious, that he truly really might want to spend the rest of his life by your side. There would be a time when that realization would frighten him, make him pull away from anything he isn't ready to lose: you. Commitment is not something that comes easy to him, and it would be the roughest patch in your entire relationship, it would take lots of reassurance and persistence on your side, but once that is over, oh boy is he committed. When Han finally accepts the true extent of his feelings for you, that he now can't for the life of him let you slip through his fingers, be prepared, cause he's gonna make this work, you're stuck with him now. (And Chewie)
A relationship with him is fun, he knows how to have a good time and he wants any time you two spend together to become a good memory, even under less than ideal circumstances. He's going to make the most inappropriate jokes at the most inappropriate times, he's going to tease you like his life depends on it, and he's going to make you laugh like nobody else ever could. It only takes putting up with his enormous but quite fragile ego, really.
He has a tendency to avoid taking anything too seriously, which depending on you might get a little annoying at times, but he is also really dependable when it comes down to it. Sure, he is going to complain to hell and back, but he would die for you in a heartbeat, anything less than that is just more material to jokingly throw back at you when he wants to get out of doing something. It never works.
-Celebrations and anniversaries are Han’s favourite days, does he only remember about a few of them the literal day of? absolutely, but damn him if he doesn't make them special. Han is all about living in the moment, he wants every second dedicated to celebrating you or your relationship to be memorable, and he can be cheesy when it comes to it, just never say that out loud. You guys' song is playing, even tho he insists you don't have one? He is holding your hand or dancing with you. What do you mean he's being romantic, he just had to show off his moves. You have a favourite food and you suddenly find it in the kitchen? Don't look at him like that, he didn't do it for you, he was just craving it and was nice enough to get you some, even tho there's only one plate and you are pretty sure you can still spot the residues of a failed cooking attempt.
He might not get you a gift every time, cause that's not really his forte, and depending on the time you might be a little short on money, but there are a few really significant ones every now and again, like the dress or suit you’ve been saving up for, or the necklace he bought you when you'd been away from each other for a few days and stars did he miss you.
-Han is… not great at communicating in a way that doesn't contain an excessive amount of snark. It's never insulting, and he makes sure to stay clear of anything that might actually hurt you, but this man grew up with only fighting spirit and sarcasm on his side, and he still has a hard time remembering that he doesn't have to defend himself from you, that showing you his emotions and caring doesn’t mean he’s pathetic. The longer you two are together the better he becomes at taking a step away to calm down before speaking, sure, your relationship is still made of almost constant banter, but now it's playful and lighthearted, and Han truly makes an effort to be serious when you want him to be. Hotheaded and stubborn as he is, he would never hurt you on purpose.
-Han proposed right after he got over the mental breakdown that came with realizing the extent of his feelings for you, now that he's aware? It's ride or die. Really, there have been very very few people that he has ever cared for more than himself, he would trade his happiness for yours, he couldn't love you more than he already does, couldn't love nobody else the same way.
Still, this man's jealousy is through the roof. It's definitely not because he doesn't trust you, but he can't help but fear the day you might meet someone worthier of your affection then him. For as cocky as he tends to be, Han knows he is not always the easiest to get along with, so just let him stand close to you when you're out, and wrap his arm around you when somebody is “clearly” trying to flirt with you, and he will be back to his confident self in no time. It would be even easier to deal with if you were comfortable with letting him tell everyone and their families that you're married. No but seriously, there is no chance your relationship was ever a secret, Han has no filter when it comes to bragging and oh boy is he proud of you. And lets not forget the wedding ring, being a pilot he mostly wears it on a chain around his neck, but that thing is on display. He even develops the endearing habit of holding onto it when he is doing something just a little too risky, you're his lucky charm, and if you were to show off your ring just as much as he does? Well, you might never hear the end of it, but you can tell he gets sentimental about it.
-Han never thought he'd be one for domesticity, and in a lot of ways he still isn't. He can't cook to save his life, he despises chores so much that you can pretty much just thank Chewie if the Falcon is a somewhat livable space at all, and some of his clothes have holes in them he barely tried to mend. But you have made a huge difference, and even tho he won't even try and help you when it comes to stoves, he'll take care of the coffee and he'll set the table and you don’t even have to ask. He won't help you and Chewbacca with the cleaning and tidying but he'll make sure to stop leaving things around and pick up after himself to give you an easier time (not a day goes by that Chewie doesn't thank the stars for your existence). And he still fusses about his clothes, but he makes you something to drink and watches you sew with so much awe you feel like you're hanging the stars in the sky.
So yes, he still sucks at it, but he loves what you two have more than anything in the world, and he tries, he really does, cause you make him want to be the best version of himself. And when it comes to kids, well… parenthood scares him half to death, but he knows it will be amazing if he has you to learn with, and no matter what obstacles your family will have to face, he promises you, he'll make it work.
The Mandalorian/Din Djarin:
-Din is a family man through and through. He would be dedicated to your relationship from the very beginning, and even more so now that you are married. If he has gotten into a serious partnership with you, especially if it happened after he found the child, it means that you are it for him, you are the love of his life, the parent of his kids, his clan, the only one he will ever have by his side. And it's useless to say that he is loyal to a fault, he will have your back against anything and anyone, come hell or high water, and he will protect you even on the smallest of things as if his life depended on it. Anything that is important to you automatically becomes top priority for him as well, and you will never want for anything as long as there is breath in his lungs. It can be a bit much at times, especially because he pretty much puts you on a pedestal, but it's not as if he wants you to be perfect, he knows your faults and embraces them, he just can't help but be adoring of every single part of you.
With him, you will never even have a chance to look down on yourself, you and Grogu are the best thing that could have ever happened to him, and he will remind you of that until his voice gets hoarse if he thinks you don't believe it.
-Din is not big on celebrations, but he always does something to make you feel appreciated, and he remembers all of them. Even if he doesn't bring you anywhere fancy, he knows quite a few beautiful and secluded spots, where the two of you can simply bask in each other's presence and be at peace. A simple but thought out gift he remembers you like, your favourite song in the background, any type of food you like the most. He's observant and he knows you like the back of his hand, so rest assured, the entire day will be tailored to fit your mood and preferences. And if you do something for him? Stars, you just might kill him. No, his voice isn't shaking, he's fine, don't worry he just needs a minute.
-Din never raises his voice at you, and he has the patience of a saint, but he isn't great at expressing his own thoughts and feelings. He listens to everything you have to say, and because of how much he respects you and values your opinion, he always takes the points you make into consideration with great attention. Din hates fighting with you and he isn't afraid to admit when he's in the wrong, so usually arguments end fairly easily, but he also isn't afraid to stand his ground, which is where most of your troubles reside. If he has listened to your perspective and still thinks he's right, he can come across as a little… patronizing. He would never believe himself better than you of course, quite the opposite, but he can at times sound curt or dismissive, even when he doesn't mean to be. Just tell him that, and he will be more than willing to try and express himself better, you might have to help him with it tho.
-Din proposed to you almost out of the blue, you probably wouldn't expect it, and he might not even have a ring on him, but his speech would be so heartfelt and honest that you might have a hard time holding back tears (and honestly, once you say yes he would too, you just wouldn't be able to see it). I imagine it would happen something like this: he came home from a job that had dragged on for a little too long, ready to just collapse somewhere on the floor of the Crest, and forgetting in his tiredness that he is not alone anymore. He would be almost taken aback once he opens the door, finding the lights still on and you, with the child held tightly in your arms, asleep on his chair in the cockpit, clearly having tried to stay up to wait for him. It would be a sudden but gentle realization, that now he has everything he has ever wanted and never thought he could have, that you are his family, and he has to officialise that, he has to properly make you a clan of three. And oh is he itching to rip off his helmet and finally let you see him. Altho he would rather do things properly, because you deserve nothing less, he’d just have to ask you right in that moment.
Any jealousy Din might have would evaporate once you get married, but please, do flaunt your ring, he will melt.
-There's not much space for domesticity in the life of a bounty hunter, nor is it a Mandalorian specialty, but against all odds, Din craves it more than anything. You are his home, and he tries his damn hardest to be the same for you, and he's quite the natural at it, although the last time he's experienced it himself has been way back when he still had his parents, so he is a little rusty.
Chores are swiftly dealt with, he'd much rather do it all himself than make you do it, and he rarely accepts help unless he's basically dead on his feet and things can't wait, because he's stubborn like that. But if you were to cook for him and the kid? And he could watch you do it? And maybe you have some music playing in the background? And stars forbid there's a smile on your face? Din is convinced he has died at some point and this is heaven, and he doesn't deserve it at all but you're clearly an angel and for some reason you care for him and he really hopes reincarnation isn't a thing because he wants to stay here with you for the rest of eternity. It's dramatic and he will never say it out loud, not like that at least, but he's sentimental at heart.
On the topic of kids, do I even have to say it? Din is more than willing to expand your family, especially if you were to somewhat settle down, and as we've all seen, he's a great dad.
Poe Dameron:
-Poe would be an amazing husband. Affectionate to a fault, Poe is a very tactile person, which translates to him being quite physical in his demonstrations of love.  If he can, he will always stand or sit close to you, feeling more at ease while sharing your space, and if you aren't uncomfortable, there would definitely be some hand-holding, or you could even sit in his lap honestly, he'd be happy about it.
He'd give you his arm when you are tired so that you can rest your weight on him, wrap an arm around your shoulders or waist when you're walking together, lift you up and down from high places, especially when it comes to you climbing into a ship, especially if it is his ship (Yes, he knows very well that you are more than capable of doing things like this on your own, doesn't mean he can't dedicate his life to making it easier tho); He would offer you his hand to hold onto if you're walking on unsteady ground so that you won't risk falling, he would surprise hug you so much you'd come to expect it anytime (but really, the surprise part was just an excuse so it's not like he's gonna stop), would hoist you over his shoulders if you were ever too short to see or reach something, and give you piggy back rides at absolutely any time.
-Poe is also a very passionate and very charming man. You could be married for a hundred years, and he would still treat you as if he was trying to win you over, every chance he has to court you, he's gonna take it. Which is exactly why he thrives when it comes to celebrations and anniversaries. Flowers find you anytime he has a chance to go pick/buy any, which is far less often than he'd like given his position in the Resistance, but travelling so much means that he has a good excuse, every planet warrants at least one new bouquet to gift you.
He will either leave them somewhere for you to find, like on your bedside table when you wake up, or give them to you personally, while trying to wait until things have calmed down and not immediately after he is done embracing you when he returns to base. Both options are accompanied by a note he has written while away, whether the note is going to be extremely lovesick or downright flirty depends heavily on his mood at the time, and if your cheeks are going to be flaming hot by the end of them... well, that depends on your willpower.
Speaking of which, you might start to associate the flowers to a promise of safe return, and picking up on it, Poe will gift you a beautiful, specially commissioned pendant that has both of your favourite flowers on it, that can immortalise without withering his promise to be by your side until his dying day.
Also anything interesting he might see while travelling will be brought back to you, from clothes to special types of local chocolate to anything that correlates to a hobby of yours. Or, truth be told, anything that reminds him of you, and that is a lot of things, but he might keep some of those for himself, just to have a piece of you to hold close to his heart when he can't hold you.
-Poe hates arguing; sure, playful teasing or loving banter are his bread and butter, but actual fights make him more sad than angry.  Of course, disagreements happen, and Poe is more than willing to listen to your point of view, before swiftly changing the subject and letting it be water under the bridge.  Honestly, maybe influenced by his parents relationship, Poe believes in a somewhat fairytale-like kind of love, and most of the time he does manage to make it a reality, other times... well, sometimes fights just can't be avoided, especially when it comes to someone as impulsive as he is. He always finds a way to make it up to you tho, so that's good.
-Poe proposed to you after a dangerous mission that almost ended terribly wrong, with either you or him getting out of it by the skin of your teeth. He'd have been keeping the ring he had intended to propose with for the past couple of months, right in the breast pocket of his pilot suit, where his heart is. He'd had a grand proposal in mind, one that would be romantic and memorable, but never found the right time.
That all went out the ship the moment he got slapped right in the face with the reminder of just how possible it is for either one of you to not come back for the night, to die, and just like that, leave behind your relationship and your love, and all that you have been together. He didn't even let his feet touch the ground after jumping out of his X-wing before he went down on his knees. He of all people should know, that no time is better then right now, with his heart in his hands.
Now, it might come as a little bit of a surprise, but Poe isn't a jealous man, and not only because he is almost always draped over you in one way or another, but because he is incredibly sure that the two of you are soulmates. On the same note, there's absolutely no reason for you to worry either, while he might have been a bit of a flirt before, it all stopped the moment he took interest in you. Also, everybody knows that you belong to each other, and not just because the entire Resistance was invited to your wedding, but because Poe's absolute favourite topic of conversation is you. And if you're wondering, BB-8 was both the ring bearer and the flower girl at your wedding.
Speaking of rings, being a pilot Poe can't wear his on his finger, not that he would have anyway, when it looks so perfect on the same necklace that holds his mother's ring, right in front of it, with your name carved on the inside on display.
-Poe, as I've said before, is pretty much a hopeless romantic, so domestic life is definitely right up his alley. He knows how to cook, and he does so rather well, and with as happy as he is to prepare you homemade candlelit dinners, he attunes himself to your taste so much he could very well be considered your personal five stars chef. With Poe’s positive attitude towards pretty much anything, chores are definitely not something to be dreaded in your house. Stopping to dance and sing at some point or another is basically a requirement, and pillow fights are far more common than they should be for high ranking members of the Resistance, but it's so fun and lighthearted that time will run by just as fast as if you were out on a date.
Poe would love nothing more than to start a family with you, but you're both still young, and he is in no rush. Ideally, the two of you won't have to wait too long until your victory will once again bring stability to the Galaxy, and you could settle down on a beautiful planet (Yavin 4 sounds great to him) where you'd have all the stability needed to raise your children.
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diejager · 1 month
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Alright so reader ends up pregnant, mom thinks it's horangis kid, reader moves in with him and we have the whole nursery situation
What happens next, like how will they treat her when she's 7 months pregnant? How will they deal with her cravings and stuff?
And what will happen when she gives birth and the baby's a carbon copy of konig? Will the mom be like "🧍‍♀️oh well that's interesting" or will horangi and Konig take reader away and disappear from the face of the earth? Or even worse, they make sure the mom's not gonna bother them anymore (yknow like ⚰️💀⚱️🪦)?
The whole story line is amazing btw and if I could, i would kiss your brain because of how amazing it is
I’m gonna expand on Baby Scenario since it’s almost the same principle. Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, kidnapping, forced pregnancy, childbirth, tell me if I missed any.
Your mother had adamantly encouraged you to move in with Horangi, it would only make sense, no? Since he was the father of your kid. You’d have more space from both her and your stepdad, and would be able to spend more time with Horangi, to build that intimacy and relationship that you’d need if you were to care for a child. You would have extra room for your stuff and a nursery fro your upcoming child in Horangi’s home since he lived alone, his ultilitarianlydecorated house was a perfect place to start building a warm home —a blank canvas coaxing you to paint. 
You reluctantly agreed to her proposition, not having much of a choice when she was obliviously overcome with joy, König’s hard stare and Horangi’s tightening grip on your hip, low enough to make you uncomfortable but not too much that it was improper. The move was made quick, the sudden change of your environment left you disorientated, confused and lost while they carried box after box into the living room of your new house. 
They hadn’t made a move on you since the test, leaving you alone to do your own things: fix your side of the room, paint and move furniture around the nursery when Horangi and König were busy with other things, or reading on the bean bag you moved near the window for better lighting. It made the move a bit better, neither feeling as oppressed as you felt nor as freeing as you used to be, but it worked nonetheless of your change of ownership. It, however, hadn’t last long, they were quick to lay a hand on you, their fingers kneading and wandering over your sensitive skin, moving you to the bed and leaving you mewling and panting from their mouth and fingers alone.
When your cravings knocked down the door with weird and changing tastes, both men were eager to help, buying or ordering whatever you’d cried about wanting even if you ended up throwing it away because you didn’t want it anymore. They were accommodating to your growing needs, at your every beck and call when you had a sudden craving or sickness. Your mother couldn’t be any happier about how it turned out, that you were with someone she could trust to care for you and not a boy who’d leave you the second he heard you were pregnant, she booked everything for you until the assumed date of birth. 
But on when you gave birth, staring at a boy with auburn strands and brown eyes, and a girl with black locks and pale eyes, your mother looked as horrified as you were, much unlike Horangi and König’s pleased gaze. She fought with him, screamed her head off and tried to pry them away from you, to protect you from the men who forced themselves on you and knocked you up. You learned that she kicked König out, throwing all his items out and had tried to have them both removed and taken away from you, but there was little she could do against powerful men. Their names and reputation the blade of their defense, to use and to wield to take you away from her. 
The last time you saw her, she was in tears, sobbing and fighting against someone’s arms, clawing her way towards you while you were pulled away and into a black SUV. They cut your contact with your mother and the rest of the world, keeping you in a locked box of their own making. You didn’t know what happened to your mother or how she was, you were completely cut off from anything than your penthouse. Your only physical contact was your kids and the men who called themselves your husbands, caring for Leon and Yoon-Suh and making sure they had food when they came home. 
And it wouldn’t take long before they’d ask for another child.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @lucienbarkbark @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @223princess @maylovesyousomuch @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami
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wol-fica · 9 months
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Hi, I don't usually request stuff as I'm too shy but I thought I'd give it a shot.
Can you do a story where reader is g!p and very shy and innocent and suddenly she gets a boner. Jenna notices this and decides the best way to help her girlfriend is with a handjob, reader has never even orgasmed before so she was very nervous. Jenna calms her nerves by jerking her gf off with sweet praises and encouragement. Jenna is very gentle when doing this. She gives reader aftercare once she's finished.
I hope this gets filled because I really like your writing.
summary - (added some head) ^
an - this was super sweet that i just had to do it :)
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“I never knew that facehuggers did that.” Jenna murmured, eyes trained on the movie playing in front of you.
It was a lazy Friday night, with both of you free for the next few days so Jenna decided to make sure you both spent as much time as you could together. She suggested watching a movie, and you chose Alien as Sigourney Weaver was your save and grace.
Jenna was in your lap, turned sideways so her legs were thrown over your own. Her head rested on your chest while her hands captured yours so she could play with your fingers whenever she pleased. You rested your chin atop her head, eyes falling shut from the day’s exhaustion.
“I bet I could survive an alien attack.” Jenna said, reaching into the popcorn bowl to grab a handful.
“Sure you can.” You mumbled back, choosing to now rest your cheek on her instead of your chin, “You would be dead instantly.”
“No I wouldn’t!” She countered, smacking your stomach with the back of her hand, “I’m a natural final girl.”
You hummed in response, opening your eyes to continue watching the movie. Jenna shifted in your lap, her hips gently grinding down into your crotch. You froze up, sucking in a quiet breath when she did it again. You knew she was just readjusting herself, but her movements were causing a certain reaction from your body.
Now you have had erections before, they were not new to you, but you’ve never been around Jenna when you have had them. Usually, you would just ignore it and watch some boring animal documentary to make it go away, and you’ve never gone out of your way to manually remove it.
It’s not unknown to Jenna that you are a virgin, it was one of the things she found out very early on. Sex wasn’t a huge, need-to-do thing for you, as you are perfectly fine with having a romantic relationship without needing to constantly fuck your significant other. Jenna respected that choice, and has never overstepped that line when caught in spontaneous make-out sessions.
That being said, she did wish that she could gain a bit more out of you. So when she finally found a better way to sit in your lap, she was incredibly surprised to feel a certain something beneath your pajama pants.
Her head slowly turned to you, eyes wide and curious, “Is that…?”
You gulped, tearing your eyes away from hers to look at the ground in shame. Jenna stared at you for a moment before awwing at you. One of her hands snaked around your jaw, pulling your face back to hers.
“No need to be embarrassed, my love.” She said, pressing a kiss to your lips, “It’s a normal thing to happen.”
“Y-yeah but…” You stuttered, completely ashamed of your predicament, “It’s never happened around you before…”
Jenna giggled, moving to straddle your lap. Her hands found your waist, giving her leverage to hover above your hips. Her eyes had a mischievous glint to them, her pupils expanding inside her brown iris’s. Her lips parted, tongue running along her teeth before she asked you a question that made you feel lightheaded.
“Can I help you with it?”
Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, completely speechless from her request. She smiled, leaning up to kiss your forehead while her hand traveled to the waistband of your pants. She paused, eyes searching yours while she waited for your consent. You inhaled, taking one last time to calm your nerves before slowly nodding to her.
Immediately her hand slipped past your pants and underwear, pulling them both down and off of your body. Your cock sprung free, slapping against your clothed stomach and standing tall at your proud seven inches. Jenna gasped, in pure awe at your size. Her pupils had now encompassed her the whole of her eye, the brown drowned out by a black void.
“Jesus…you’re huge…” She murmured to herself, one of her hands coming forward to brush against your length.
Your ego skyrocketed from her statement, your eyes fluttering at her soft touch. The feeling of her hand gently wrapping around your shaft made you suck in a breath, your teeth gritting at the sensitivity you felt.
Jenna slowly got to work, stroking your cock to start off. Her hand went up and down, squeezing when she reached your base and when she got up to your tip. The pad of her thumb would roll over your slit every time she reached the top, smearing your precum across your cock.
You felt like you were in heaven, and you definitely regretted never asking her to help you out when you needed it. Her strokes sped up, causing you to moan and throw your head back in pleasure. Jenna hummed, choosing to kiss your jaw while she gave you your first handjob.
“Such a pretty thing…” She said, grinning when you moaned her name, “So sensitive…”
“Fuck…Jenna y-you’re killing m-me…” You groaned, your hips now bucking up into her hand, “S-shit…”
“My beautiful girl…” Jenna cooed, sucking a small hickey onto your neck, “Let go whenever you’re ready.”
Your eyes rolled, head thrown back as she jerked you off. One of her hands was holding your hips down, while the other was stroking your cock at a fast yet gentle pace. She kissed you one last time before sliding down to be face to face with your cock. You watched with wide eyes as she gave you a wink before parting her lips and taking your tip into her mouth.
The feeling of her warm tongue running across your slit had you crying out in pleasure, your hand somehow knowing to slid into her hair while she worked. She relaxed her jaw, slowly taking inch by inch into her mouth before she had your whole cock inside and your tip nestled snugly in the back of her throat.
“S-shit…b-babe…” You were at a loss for words, the feeling of her hot mouth doing wonders for you, “That f-feels amazing…”
She hummed, causing you to moan, and then proceeded to suck and swallow around your cock. You sobbed, both of your hand in her hair while your hips naturally fucked up into her mouth. One of her hands slid up between your legs to roll and squeeze your balls, and that did it for you.
You came with a cry of her name, eyes rolling back from your first orgasm. Jenna worked you through it, swallowing every drop of your cum. Once you finished, she took her mouth off of you, kissing your tip lovingly before climbing back into your lap.
You breathed heavily, barely registering her pulling your lower garments back onto your body. Her hands cupped your cheeks, pulling your face to look at her. She smiled at you, using her thumb to swipe across her lip before kissing you passionately.
“You did so well, mi amor.” She mumbled against your lips, “Such a strong girl.”
You giggled, causing her to laugh as well. Your arms found solace being around her waist, pulling her closer to you. Your nose pressed into her hair, inhaling her familiar shampoo.
“Thank you…” You whispered, gently rubbing her back, “That was very enjoyable.”
Jenna chuckled, leaning back to gaze into your eyes, “I’m glad to be of assistance.”
“Finally…” She added under her breath, making you snort and smack her ass playfully.
“There will be more in the future, I promise.” You confirm, now very curious to explore both of your sexual tropes.
Jenna smirked, leaning in close to your face, “Why not try some now?”
You gulped, smiling nervously when she grabbed your hand and guided it into her shorts…
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taglist: @cartierdreamx  @tundra1029 @red1culous @vorsdany @andsoigotabutterfly @theafterofnevermore @yomomisgay @house-of-lovin @slvt4lanadelrey @thenextdawn @nepobaby08 @dunohilly @somekindofpoet @alexkolax @cinffy23 @pedrosprincess @amberfreemansburntface @myfturn
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since there's a lot accounts that either don't have a dni, or will say something vague like, "just be nice", and i don't want to risk reblogging any selfship posts from antis/people who will be rude or violent towards me and other proshippers for interacting:
if you are not proship and make selfship posts, but are fine with proshippers interacting with you, please in some way interact with this post! like it, comment, reblog, whatever—feel free to even specify that you're not proship, just fine with us interacting if you want to make sure your followers don't get confused
but also, if you are proship and you make selfship posts, feel free to interact as well! i just want to expand the amount of people who i'm reblogging from because i feel like i'm only reblogging from the same handful of folks, and well, i want this be a blog that showcases the welcoming and kind side of the selfship community as a whole—proship or not 💛
also, for those who don't know what the proship stance is, or those who have been misinformed, here is the definition of proship and an explanation of what being proship means:
proship means you pro/for shipping, the same way someone who is pro abortion is pro/for abortion, "pro" is not short problematic like some will try to say it
this is a belief that people should not be shamed or harrassed for the ship dynamics they like or engage in with fictional characters, even if those dynamics are ones you find disgusting, squicky, or triggering. blocking, blacklisting, and or just ignoring tags and users is encouraged
it does not mean that you like every ship dynamics, or even the people who ship those dynamics, it just means you acknowledge the fact that while fiction affects reality, it does not do so on a 1 to 1 ratio
like how watching a horror movie may upset you or may make you excited, it is not going to make you a murder, or even make you want to murder people. and in the very rare case that someone does decide to commit a murder after being inspired by a horror movie, the blame still lies fully on them because they still made the choice the murder, the movie may have caused inspiration but it did not force them to act on those inspirations. giving any blame to the movie in this case is saying that people are not responsible for their actions, that emotions and feelings are understandable excuses, removes accountability from and give justification to abusers, and allows other kinds of abusers to use similar means of defense such as "well, she was wearing a short skirt and i couldn't help myself!"
and for an example specifically about not liking ships, i do not like ships featuring any child aged characters, including child x child/teen/adult, loli, shota, etcetera, but i do not harrass, shame, and or accuse these people of being pedophiles or anything. i block people who ship these ships and block any related tags to avoid seeing this kind of dynamic but that's it. i acknowledge that people who like seeing murder in media most often have no desire to see murder in real life and that this same logic applies to other crimes depicted in fiction, such as incest, domestic abuse, and yes, even pedophilia
being proship also doesn't mean shutting down discussions around media, it just means not censoring that media so that those discussions can take place. to give an example, i find racist and homophobic stories, movies, etcetera disgusting but i do not want them censored, because if we censor them we remove our means to analyze, debate, and discuss these stories/etcetera and the people who make them
take the phenomenon around the popularity of Fifty Shades of Gray where suddenly there was a lot of new easily accessible information on how those scenes were wrong, but here's how to do kink properly and safely. if we had censored Fifty Shades of Gray out of fear people would have began sexually abusing each other, we never would have gotten all the wonderful education and discussions that we did
also, proship refers solely to the belief, not the dynamics of certain ships often associated with proshipper. either you are proship, a proshipper, or you beliving in proshipping, but you cannot ship a "proship" nor is there such thing a "proship ship" since proship is a belief, not a dynamic
*note, if you wish just to reblog the definition and explanation of proship that i gave, you can find it here: [○•♡click here♡•○]
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oriengranger · 1 year
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Restricted Section (Hermione Granger x Reader)
warnings: smut, mature topics
Tumblr media
throughout the years, you and Hermione had managed to get to know the castle and endless corridors from sneaking around so much.
and for the first few years of your friendship, when you would sneak around, it would only be to talk. talking for hours and hours on end just to get to know each other more. but by third year certain feelings began to transpire between you two, so your stake outs would be extremely heavy with tension.
it was by the end of fourth year when you and Hermione actually did anything about said feelings. you began to shyly hold her hand, and when she became tired she'd occasionally nuzzle her face in your neck. when she was cold you'd lend her your coat and wrap her in your warm embrace, planting loving kisses to her forehead and speaking encouraging whispers. but you didn't admit those feelings until you became jealous, and soon she did the same.
by fifth year the tension happened to come back, although this time it was very different, so much so that it was now sexual. sneaking off with the prefect then lead to steamy kisses, quiet moans, and hickeys. and while your makeout sessions became hotter, so did your knickers.
now at sixth year it was no longer teasing, you two now were not hesitating on taking things further with sex.
so thats how you ended up here, in the restricted section of the library, for late night reading. although doing said reading became a difficult task to pursue. Hermione became quiet long ago, and you're sure the sound of pages turning stopped too.
you looked slyly over your book, with Hermione's eyes dilated and already fixated on your lips. her book was lying open, long forgotten infront of her. you noticed she had been uncrossing and crossing her legs, a habit she only would do when she was hot and bothered.
"Its a bit warm in here lovely, dont you agree?" you asked, biting your lip no so innocently. Hermione met your teasing gaze and saw the amusement in your eyes. she glared at you in annoyance. "Shut up." she snapped. you rested your head in your hand and closed your book, propping your elbow to the table.
"Make me." you responded.
Hermione clenched her jaw, glaring around the room before shutting her book closed. she pushed your books effortlessly off your lap, straddling herself onto you. she grasped your neck and hungrily brought her lips to yours. you groaned as she was now grinding her hips against you.
Hermione's hand fell from
your neck and instead moved down to unbutton your uniform. she barely managed to get your second button undone before you pinned her wrists behind her back. you felt her breath hitch at the action, knowing what you were going to do to her.
you pulled her head back with your free hand, revealing her neck. instantly, you brought your lips to her exposed jaw, pressing open mouthed kisses down the column of her throat and back up, whispering dirty things in her ear occasionally.
you temporarily released your grip on her hair to unbutton her shirt. when you finished her shirt fell open on its own, you left it like that because damn was it a turn on. seeing her 'innocent girl' demeanor broken by her waiting eagerly to be fucked.
you chuckled lowly, running your fingers down her exposed chest, reaching her bra and unclipping it, making it fall off her chest. you leaned into chest, taking one of her nipples into your mouth. you alternated between them. Hermiome bucked her hips needily, whimpering when she didn't get the contact she needed. "Hey now, i cant please you properly if you're not being a good girl, can i? you asked, tightening the grip you had around her wrists. "No." she replied. "Exactly, so be a good girl for me love."
Hermione's pupils expanded even more as she nodded rapidly. pleased, you began sucking and biting on her neck. she whimpered softly. you slipped your hand up her skirt and grabbed her center tightly, you could feel the heat that gathered there, even through her lace panties. she moaned, pressing herself against your hand.
you pushed her lips open and slipped two of your fingers in, making her shudder and cry in response. as much as you loved to hear her voice, you feared someone may hear, so you undid your tie and stuffed it in her mouth, silencing her instantly.
her chest rapidly rose as her legs shook unsteadily, you had to hold her down so she wouldn't fall off of you. she clamped down on the makeshift gag as you sped up your pace, dragging her closer and closer to her edge.
she shuddered and screamed as she dug her nails harshly down your back. you were making her feel as if she was on cloud 9, and she was loving it.
she quickly came onto your fingers, letting it drip onto the floor. she was panted and flushed, staring directly into your dark eyes. you pulled your tie out of her mouth, she then crashed her lips yours, cupping your face.
you pulled away and leaned your forehead against hers.
"Ready for round two, princess?"
Fin.
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aaaaa just found ur page and I'm in love with ur writing puurrrrr 🤭💕❗️❗️
may I request dilf jake sully fucking reader just sooo good and feeding my breeding kink brrrr
so it ended up with him making out with the filled up pussy, not caring how messy fuck up his face and tired overstimulated reader. maybe a bit of fluffy aftercare too, like what he would do~~
feel free to expand and write all you want ♡♡
BBY omggg thank you so much angel!!!! like omgggg 💕💕💕💕💕💕 whenever people tell me they enjoy my work, I SWEAR I'll walk around with the biggest, goofiest smile for daysssss 🥹🥹🥹🥹
😩😩😩 istfg this breeding kink is frrr too good like I purr every time someone brings it up 🤭🤭🤭
“Aw, baby, what's wrong?” Jake mocks, grinning as he fucks you with his fingers. “Why're you cryin'?”
Tears steam down your face, warm and salty, as the pleasure overcomes you. Jake's been fingering you for hours, just enjoying the way you mewl and groan, simply reveling in your overstimulation.
“Y're so mean!” you mewl. “Please, Daddy! Fuck me! Just—enough! Fuck me already!”
Jake chuckles. “Hm, how 'bout you come one more time for me and then I'll fuck you, yeah?”
“No!” you gasp. “I can't 'nymore! Please, no!”
“Come on, honey,” he coos. “Just one more, yeah? You've been so good all this time. Just a little longer for Daddy, hm?”
You mewl, shaking, and ask, “Just one more, and then you'll fuck me?”
“One more and I'll fuck you,” he promises, placing a kiss on your lower stomach.
“Okay,” you say shakily. “One more, Daddy.”
Jake smiles up at you. “That's my girl,” he says, pressing his thick fingers up against the spongy spot within you, making more tears stream down your face. His thumb is mean on your clit, applying excruciating pressure that makes you mewl.
Jake lies his head on your thigh, watching his fingers fuck into you, his cock aching to be inside you. Your scent is thick and heavy, it makes his pupils grow wide and his mouth salivate.
He can't help it. He removes his thumb from your clit and replaces it with his mouth as his fingers fuck you. You whimper, throwing your head back as Jake's tongue slides over your sensitive nub.
“Fuck, 's too much!” you squeal, pleasure clawing within you, your womb tightening from the intensity. “'s too much! Oh, fuck!”
“Shh, it's okay, girl, I know you can do it,” Jake encourages. “C'mon, baby. You're doing so well.” His hands are calloused, the texture heavenly as he rubs against your g-spot, his mouth warm and wet as it sucks on your clit.
Your thighs press to either side of Jake's head, squeezing together as he eats you out. He chuckles against you, your hips bucking up as you try to meet his face, as you curl against his touch. His eyes are trained on your face, on the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, the way your breasts heave up and down with your thick breaths.
“Daddy,” you gasp, trembling. “Daddy!”
Jake growls against you, making you quiver, as he slides his tongue down to your entrance, his fingers holding you open for his tongue to slide in and taste you. You mewl, gasping softly, as your hands fall to his head.
“More,” you whine, the pleasure growing within you, making your body almost numb from how intense it is. “More! 'm almost—! Almost!”
Jake drags his sharp canines over your clit, and you cry out, trying to move away from the sudden jolt of ecstasy. But Jake's mouth follows your cunt, sucking and licking and nipping at your clit, at your folds.
“Daddy! Daddy!” you gasp, nails digging into Jake's scalp, hips torn between grinding against his face and jerking away from his mouth. Your orgasm crawls to the surface, making you purr at the delicious sensation of relief, your limbs shaking violently.
“Almost! Almost! Daddy!” you cry, mewling, as your orgasm finally reaches you, eviscerating in its magnitude. You gasp, your pussy squirting onto Jake's face, making you weak and feeble, as he laps up your slick.
He helps you down from your high, riding out your pleasure, before pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean. “I knew you could do it,” he says, grinning, wiping his mouth where your slick coats his blue skin.
You can barely breathe, tears streaking down your face, your body worn and exhausted, overwhelmed with pleasure.
“Fuck me,” you beg, spreading your legs, eyes struggling to open just so you can meet Jake's gaze. “Daddy, please.”
“I made you a promise, baby,” he replies, removing his loincloth, allowing his cock to spring free. “And I always keep my promises.” Jake runs the swollen tip of his cock up your folds, shuddering as your arousal smears over him. “Look at this pretty pussy, all needy f'r me, hm?”
“Yes,” you reply, eyes locked on Jake's cock as he teases your entrance, your body aching for him. “Yes, all f'r you, Daddy.”
Jake slides into you slowly, making you sniffle, back arching and hands digging into the soft soil below.
“Fuck, baby,” Jake grunts. “Look how wet you are, this pussy so fuckin' warm 'round my cock.”
You blubber out an incoherent response, your brain swirling with the feel of Jake's cock filling you, of the bulging head as it presses against your cervix.
And then he starts thrusting into you, hips slamming into yours, his pace rough and sharp. You mewl, too fatigued to do much but writhe as he ravages your cunt.
“Fuck, 'm gonna need a mirror one 'f these days so you can see how fuckin' pretty you look when I fuck ya,” he groans, his hands grabbing onto your thighs, holding them open, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, bruising you.
You nod, brain too scattered and fucked dumb to do much but agree. “Yes, Daddy,” you moan.
Jake chuckles. “Yeah, you look real pretty when my cock's this deep in that cunt 'f yours, hm? Look so fuckin' pathetic, so fuckin' dirty. Goddamn.” You clench around him, wiggling your hips, one of your hands falling to your clit. But Jake slaps it away, tsking softly. “If you're gonna come, you're gonna do it under my terms, you hear me, girl?”
You whimper, tears staining your cheeks, and you nod. “Okay, Daddy,” you reply, always so obedient.
Jake relishes in the look of despair across your face, in the way you shake. He loves when you're all weak and helpless, when you let him use you however he wants to without opposing him. Of course, he'd never do anything you weren't okay with, but, then again, you seemed to be okay with almost anything when it came to him.
“You're so good f'r me, aren't you, baby?” he asks, smirking down at you.
“Yes!” you cry out, back arching, eyes fluttering shut. “I'm yours! I'm yours, Daddy.”
“Yeah, I know you're mine, girl,” he says. “You're my little slut, aren't you?” he asks, licking his lips, the sound of his skin crashing into yours echoing around you. “My little girl to fuck?”
“Yes! Yes! 'm yours! Your slut, Daddy!” you respond, pussy tightening around him, your slick dripping from your stuffed cunt and smearing on Jake's hips and trickling down to his swollen balls.
You're quivering uncontrollably, the pleasure rising in you in waves, much like the tide, slowly taking over more and more of your sanity, threatening to drown your every thought in ecstasy.
Jake splays one of his hands across your lower stomach, pressing down directly on your womb, making you feel even fuller. You tense around his cock, and he groans quietly, his ears folding back as the pleasure shoots up through his body.
His cock bulges through your lower stomach, and Jake can see the way it grinds against your insides, the way it makes you squirm with each of his movements. Jake leans down, caging your body with his so he can press a kiss to your mouth.
His tongue is soft and sweet as it slides past your lips. He tastes of you, of your cunt. He smells of you. His entire body gives away the fact that he's yours. Much like yours shows you're his, with his scent, his hand print on your ass, the bruises of his five fingers on your thighs, and the little bites he leaves all over you.
Jake hoists one of your legs around his waist, allowing him to sink deeper, the head of his cock smacking into your g-spot with each fierce thrust.
You mewl into the kiss and Jake swallows your sounds, his cock pulsing at your every whimper.
He snakes his hand lower, moving it from your womb to your cunt, and he occupies his fingers over your clit, drawing little circles on it. You gasp, back arching, hips following his hand in search of more friction. Jake pinches the little nub between his fingers, making you hiss, your sharp canines biting down on his lower lip.
Jake gasps at the sensation, the sharp pain quickly melting into searing pleasure. He increases the speed of his thrusts, making your breasts bounce, so close to his own face. So he lowers his mouth from yours to your tits, kissing the soft flesh, taking one of your nipples between his lips.
“More!” you wail, legs trembling, your hands rising to hold onto Jake's shoulders. “More!”
As Jake fucks you harder, deeper, you sink your nails into the skin of his back, making him shudder, his teeth softly biting at your nipple. He increases the pressure and the speed of his fingers as they play with your clit, making you jerk, body convulsing beneath his.
“Daddy!” you cry. “Daddy! 's too much! I can't 'nymore! Please!”
“Oh, come on, baby,” Jake says. “We already talked 'bout this, remember? You can do it one more time, yeah? Last one. Come one last time for Daddy, girl. I know you got it in you.”
You writhe, shaking your head, trying to deny him, but your body is aching, your orgasm begging to be let out. “Last one,” you gasp, shuddering. “This is the last one.”
Jake smiles, kissing your neck. “There she is, my good little girl.” He bites over your throat, sinking his teeth into your skin. “Come for me again, girl. Come on Daddy's cock, yeah?”
You don't reply. You're too busy concentrating on the feeling of his fingers fondling your clit, on the way he bruises your cervix, on the way his hips slam into yours, on the way his other hand wraps around your neck, squeezing softly and making you see stars.
Your pleasure gnaws at your insides, a violent entity that rises to the surface slowly and then suddenly bursts over you. You gasp, cunt squeezing around Jake's cock as you come, your legs trembling, your muscles going taut.
“Daddy! Daddy!” you blubber, sniffling, as Jake helps you ride out your orgasm, your pleasure slowly dying away, your body beginning to recover.
But Jake's not done. “'m gonna fill this pretty cunt, girl,” he says, smirking, as you whimper when he continues thrusting into you with unfazed vigor. “I'm gonna cum in you. Gonna fill you up with every last drop.” He groans, “I'm gonna give you a baby, girl. 's that what you want? Y'want me to give you a child? Wanna be full with my baby? Hm?”
“Yes!” you gasp, your arousal making your thighs slippery. “Yes! Please!”
Jake grunts, thrusting into you at a sloppy pace as his orgasm finally overcomes him, making his seed spill into you in thick ropes, hot and sticky, as they fill you to the brim.
You shiver at the sensation, eyes rolling into the back of your head, body quaking.
Jake recovers much faster than you. He's soon pressing soft little kisses to your temple, pulling out of you. He crawls down your body, leaving a trail of kisses behind, until he reaches your pussy. And then he eats you out. He slides his tongue into you, savoring your mixed orgasms, groaning at the taste. His nose presses into your clit, making you jerk, as your frail hands try to push his head away.
But Jake's hands hold onto your hips, keeping you in place as he cleans you up. You're writhing, sobbing and hiccuping from the overstimulation, your every nerve alight with too much pleasure. He sinks his nose against your clit, rubbing his face on your cunt, smearing your cum and his all over his mouth and chin and cheeks.
You writhe, whimpering, begging him to stop. But it's just so good. The taste of you combined with his own...fuck, it drives him insane.
But then Jake glances up at you and he sees the look of excruciation on your face, the way the pleasure truly is too much, and a warm emotion comes over him.
He moves his mouth away from your pussy, kissing your thighs before laying on the grass beside you.
He holds you in his arms, fingers caressing over your skin, tracing your outline. You're the most precious thing to him, the most prized presence in his life. You're everything to him. Your mind and your soul have enamored him, and he's not sure he'll ever stop loving you.
“You did so good, girl,” he says softly, kissing your shoulder. “Always so good.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “And I know I can be mean, I know I can be too much for you, and you still take it. And I-I just love you for that.”
You nuzzle yourself into his body, allowing the warmth of his embrace to lull you to sleep. He gently massages you, massages the tense muscles under your skin, gently caresses the bruises he left behind. He kisses your tears away, licks them off your cheeks, enraptures your mouth with a kiss that makes you swoon.
And then he holds you in his arms, allowing you to fall asleep as he watches over you, the most precious being to have ever existed.
-----
@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise
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jakeyt · 29 days
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Covet: Chapter 10 (Part 1 of 2)
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader
Covet Summary:
Life was good. No, life was great. 
Was. 
Until.
Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.
You welcomed him into your life—your home. 
Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 
Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.
At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.
Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; extreme feelings of stress and anxiety; feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; allusions to a dark, forgotten childhood; therapy; EMDR therapy; arguing/raising of voices; heart issues (POTs); use of heart monitors; hemoglobin kits mentioned; jealousy; body changes as a result of pregnancy; negative self-talk; baby talk galore; pregnancy hormones (. . .but just wait for part 2 lol); reader continues being sad while she checks Jake out... but now we see jake being sad while he checks reader out lol; mild description of oral sex (m! receiving) (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)
Chapter Word Count: 27.4k+
a/n: hi, loves :) i am sorry for the wait! won't go into detail, but life is a mf beast rn, and i'm rolling w it the best i can. this is a hobby. and while it does take up the majority of my free time, it is also not my main job! so, please be patient as life isn’t easy!
without further ado, here is chapter 10, pt 1... you will get pt 2 tomorrow - it is all set and ready to upload, but i must let the anticipation rise after pt 1. ;)
part 1 includes a hell-ton of stuff that i've been waiting to write - and been waiting for you to read! eek! this chapter is the beginning of a ~new chapter~ in everyone's lives... so, strap in <3 things are about to get real interesting......
as usual, thank you to my lovely sister @joshym for being my encourager and for aiding in expanding on ideas when i feel stuck as hell lol i love you more than words can properly articulate <3
Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤 (i listen to it nonstop while i write this story.... all of the songs are pertinent to the plot and assist in telling it - either already or eventually.)
Covet Masterlist
-🌼🌼🌼-
"Conscience and covetousness are never to be reconciled; like fire and water they always destroy each other, according to the predominancy of the element."
-Jeremy Collier
-🌼🌼🌼-
November 17, 2022
After several moments of standing there, you started to feel very naked under Jake’s stare. 
The realization that you were still butt-fucking-naked under your towel had you wanting to escape the entire situation. It added one more reason why you wanted to hide in your room for all of eternity.
You didn’t know how to process what had just happened. . . All you knew was that any idea of a nice talk where you revealed the truth to him. . . Was gone. 
He knew now. And you were freaking the fuck out. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
Jake’s POV
There was no doubting her. Not for a single second. The baby was mine and I’d known it in my heart before I asked. 
I really just wanted to hear her say it. 
During our time together, just like she’d been it for me, I knew in my heart that I’d been it for her. I’d known her, backwards and forwards. And, within that time that I knew her so well, we’d become close. So close that, without meaning to make it—us— more, we’d made it more. 
I gave her a better look, not able to put into words what the fuck I was feeling. Let my eyes trail down her body, covered only by a towel. 
She adjusted her towel, tighter around her body. Was she self conscious? She shouldn’t have been. She was always beautiful. And I was afraid pregnancy was only going to enhance her beauty. . . I noticed as she tightened her towel, the action made her full breasts spill even more from the top of the towel. I averted my eyes, willing my dick to not react. Instead, I trained my eyes below, on her belly. 
And now that I knew, I could see. Even through the fluffiness of the towel, I could see a certain roundness to her belly that had never been there before. A full-blown bump. Still small by some standards, but big enough that I should have fucking noticed. 
Not able to help it, my eyes scanned her heaving chest, the tops of her tits fully exposed above the towel. It made so much sense why I’d noticed them looking bigger. . . Because they were bigger. Growing. Every day. To nourish our baby. 
Our baby.
I looked away from her. . . I couldn’t look at her right now. Not when she— when I. . . God.
How had I been so oblivious?! I lived with her for Christ’s sake. Was it my fault that I hadn’t allowed myself to be more present in her life? Was it because I was seeing Maya now? God. No. It wasn’t on me to watch for things like that anymore. Not since she’d told me that I’d served my purpose. That I was just convenient. . . And all of the other hateful shit she’d spit in my face that day in the kitchen. 
The day my heart fucking broke after pounding in my chest. . . Pleading with her to help me understand all of it. But she hadn't fucking stopped . . . Just kept going. Breaking me. Saying things I never, in a million years, ever wanted to hear from her. 
I’d let her become more in my life. I thought it was meant to last. Thought that she had become my someone. More than relationship. More than friends. She had just . . . Been there. She’d nestled into a place made just for her in my heart. Like she was supposed to have been there all along. 
I’d never wanted her to leave. But she’d wanted to. She’d put her foot down, not leaving any goddamn room for argument. 
And my heart. . . Fucking broken after beating the hardest it ever had in my chest. . . Shattered into an infinite number of tiny shards at my feet. I’d spent days picking up the shreds, my hands getting cut every time I tried to fix in me what she’d torn apart. There was a part of me that knew exactly why she’d done it. I fucking knew. Knew that she didn’t think she deserved happiness or some shit. But there was no use in entertaining what I knew when she refused to acknowledge the truth. 
The night we’d smoked and I’d told her that I— and then she’d told me that she— Jesus. The moment had been so real, so solid. . . The words had fallen from my lips without any hint of question. Even being under the influence, I felt the connection we’d made in that moment. I thought about the words everyday for weeks after I’d left the kitchen on that hellish day. 
Then there was the transcendental sex we’d had when we made it into her room that night. She’d been so wet, waiting for me. . . Fuck it all. Wait— not— no. The night we’d smoked. . . We hadn’t used protection. Was that when—?
The inside of my brain was just going fucking insane and I couldn’t— goddammit!
I ran a hand through my hair a couple of times, the other one still holding my keys. I  needed to do something with both of my hands. Besides balling them into fists and creating divets in one palm with my fingertips and the other with my keys.
I was tired of just standing there, in front of this woman I’d fallen for at a time when I thought I’d never wanted to love again. . . The same woman who’d shattered me. And, now, the very same woman who was carrying my child. . . 
There was no use in trying to organize any thoughts. Pacing seemed to be the only option. So, back and forth, back and forth, I walked in about a foot of space. Just waded in these uncharted fucking waters. All I knew at this moment was she was pregnant. And she’d lied to me about it. 
How long had she—? How far along was—?
And why in the hell had Josh known before me?! Of all fucking people . . . Fuck! 
“Jake,” her voice tore through the catastrophic mess of shit in my head. 
I didn’t look at her. How could I? When she’d left me in the dark. Once again, prioritized Josh over me. Even when it came to my child. Absolutely fucking incredible.
“Jake, please,” she muttered, voice cracking on the word please. My heart couldn’t handle the sound. “I can’t— I’m not in the right state of mind to just stand here and—.” I stopped pacing and peered up at her finally, my hair surely a mess around my hot face when I let my eyes pierce hers. 
But as soon as I made eye contact with her, I softened. I hated to see her cry. Hated it. And the sobs suddenly wracking her were unexpected. It hurt my heart to stand there and watch her like that. 
But— she’d brought this on herself. Right?! Fuck. 
As much as I wanted to walk to her and hug her, I didn’t. I stayed where I was, offering a half-assed look of pity. It wasn’t her turn to hurt over this. I was the one just finding out. Not her.
“Y/n,” I tried, weakly. But god it sucked to say her name right now. “Just— god. There are so many—.”
“Questions, I know,” she finished, walking a couple hesitant steps toward me. But I took two back, away from her. 
The way her body slacked at my action made me want to take it back. There were a lot of things I wanted to do. Some understandable, some not so much. I wanted to cry. Kiss her. Hug her. Feel her. Help her. Scream at her. 
But, she was right. I did have so many fucking questions. 
“How long?” I asked, breath shallow, never letting my eyes leave hers. 
She kept up, not looking away from me. “How long have I known? Or how long have I been—?”
“Both.”
“I—,” she stuttered, closing her eyes tight, her beautiful face contorted in what I could only assume was emotional turmoil. 
I watched as she balled her fists, clenching them a few times. Then, as she released them, she seemed to plant her feet firmly on the floor— her body, rigid and straight. 
When she opened her eyes and found mine again, I could clearly see the tears that had accumulated on her lashes. And her eyes, that would forever take my breath away, were daring to shed more of them.
“Don’t cry,” I couldn’t help but calmly reassure her, my voice soft as I went to stand closer to her again. Not close. Just— closer. “Just. . . keep going. Talk me through it. Talk us through it.” 
She breathed deeply, in and out, once. I strained to not let my eyes fall to her chest— to admire the way her fuller breasts would rise and fall. . . I resisted, focusing on her eyes. Her face, rivaling all gods of beauty. . . 
After taking one more calming breath, she began. “I’m three months along,” she paused momentarily, as if thinking of something. “Three months today, actually.”
Three months.
“And how long have you known?”
“I’ve known for about a month,” she responded, bringing her shoulders higher and sniffling once. She blinked once, tightening her fists once more. “That’s not to say I told anyone right away. I kept it to myself. I was scared. I didn’t know what the fuck to do.”
I let her words sit in the air for a few minutes, thought them through at least five times before I couldn’t keep the next question to myself any longer. 
“When did Josh find out?” 
Her jaw flexed as her fists bunched up; eyebrows, drawn together as she glanced down briefly, her eyes snapping back to mine. “Why the fuck is that important right now?”
Oh, she wanted to get angry? Okay.
“Seriously?” I said, my tone sharp as I pointed a finger at her. “You telling my brother about my baby before me is pretty fucking disheartening. Especially when I — fuck. You know why it’s important.”
“I’m sorry. . . I’m stuck on something you said. . . When you called it your baby,” she leveled, stepping toward me once. I didn’t move, only stood taller and sighed deeply, nostrils flared. “Please, tell me more. About how you’re the one who had to find out all by herself. And if you’re the one who had to find out all by herself, you’re probably also the one who’s going to have to stretch her body out to carry this baby for the next six months,” her voice rose with every word she spoke. She sighed, a smile shaking on her lips, yet lacking any positive emotion. “I must’ve fucking forgotten.”
All I could do was stare at her; because, in spite of all of that truth, I was still angry with her. She’d twisted my words. She knew what I fucking meant. 
She just wanted an opportunity to pin something on me in her moment of insecurity. 
It was definitely something she would do in a state of upset. Hell, it was something I would do. Without a thought. I was known for it. Could I be upset with her for doing the same thing? Dammit. I just felt conflicted as hell — didn’t know how to feel about it all. 
I was happy. Really. Truly. Completely over the moon ecstatic at getting to be a father. I just— I couldn’t wrap my mind around the idea of it. All of the information, the reality of my life. . . It wasn’t sinking in worth shit. Though, at the same time, it felt so incredibly real. 
On the same hand, I also felt completely betrayed to not know a damned thing until this moment. It was fine that she waited to tell me. No question about that. But telling Josh before me still pissed me the fuck off. . . And it would until she understood why it made me so angry. 
She’d confided in him about the baby I helped her make. When she hadn’t even told me. Probably hadn’t even been planning on telling me anytime fucking soon. Because of her determination to keep me out of the loop when it came to our child, I’d had to find out on my own. By accident. 
All because I was a motherfucking identical twin. What were the chances of that shit?
I didn’t get to have a moment of joy at the thought of being a father because I was too busy reading how grateful she was for Josh amidst this pregnancy. All I could think about was how she hadn’t been grateful for me. Hadn’t been grateful enough to keep me in her life. 
She’d pushed me out. But not Josh. Definitely not Josh. She would never say to Josh what she said to me in the kitchen.
I couldn’t take it.
Unable to control my actions, I started acting before thinking. . . Not even looking at her, I focused only on the keys in my hand, still waiting for me to go somewhere. I had to go somewhere. Had to get the fuck out of the apartment that had brought me both my greatest days and my most heartbreaking. 
And this day was officially both.
Pulling the door open without even thinking about it, seeing through blurred tunnel vision, I heard her say my name, once again choking on sobs behind me. Even after I closed the door, she continued to wail my name. 
My heart was longing to stay back with her. Begging me to stay where I knew I needed to. The guilt was heavy. Baby or not, my heart yearned for the woman. Even when I shouldn’t want her, I did. And I really shouldn’t after what she’d said in the kitchen.
I knew it was a dick move to leave. I knew it. But I had to. Couldn’t explain it. So, with blurred vision and hearing her repeat my name and begging me not to leave, I continued down the cemented, outdoor hallway and to the stairs. 
End of Jake’s POV
-🌼🌼🌼-
Gone. Found out about it and then he was just. . . gone. 
You stood there long enough to let him walk back through the door. Until he might’ve come back, ready to make things right.
You waited too long. But when you started getting a chill from standing there in your towel, you were suddenly ready to put some clothes on. Ready to hide. Maybe Jake had the right idea to run away.
In the case he didn’t come back tonight, you didn’t want to be waiting for him all night, getting your hopes up. . . only to have them crushed.
Your heart was already burning in your chest, all the way down to the pit of your stomach, at the worry of him not returning.
-🌼🌼🌼-
You firmly decided on leaving for a bit. Follow his lead. You went about your business to get your ass out of your home before it swallowed you whole in your fears and worries of Jake.
But. . . driving sounded stupid as hell. You wouldn’t have been able to see past the clouds of tears in your eyes to safely arrive at your destination. And, as sad as you were, you weren’t sad enough to want to wreck your car. The baby’s life was the first you considered. But–then. . . you realized you had a burning desire to keep going for you, too. . . despite Jake leaving, you wanted to keep going. The sadness hadn’t completely overtaken you.
So, you’d wisely decided to schedule an Uber. And while you waited, you hastily pulled your cute gray sweatsuit (thank you, TikTok shop) onto your body as quickly as you could, making sure to put on a sports bra underneath to hold your boobs in place. They continued to hurt like hell. You really needed to get a maternity bra.
And then, after you’d fed Stevie, you waited for the Uber and prayed that it would show up before Jake got back home. 
Well. . .if he came back home tonight. It was very bold of you to just assume he would. Why would he want to return? Your own mother left you because you weren’t worth anything. And tonight, Jake had made it perfectly clear he felt the same way your mom had.
The Uber showed up in no time. . .sooner than you’d scheduled for it to arrive. 
As the black Toyota Solara finally came into view, you wiped your tears for the millionth time since Jake had left. The sobs that wracked your chest hadn’t stopped painting your cheeks since he’d walked out the door. Because, well, he had left you. The one person you wanted with you for this had left when you needed him most.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Applebee’s. The sign to the restaurant had you feeling the urge to do happy dance, even amidst your raging emotions. But you concealed it for the sake of your Uber driver.
For the past few days, you’d been craving their alfredo specifically. The fear of ruining it like you’d ruined so many other foods, had kept you from DoorDashing it. 
But tonight? Tonight you’d decided to treat yourself, and instead of being scared that you’d throw it all up, you took the chance. Thus, scheduling the Uber to drive you to fucking Applebee’s. Of all places.
You’d been sitting for probably five minutes at a booth (comfortably, but definitely lonely), when the rain started pouring down outside your booth’s window. 
And at approximately the same time, you noticed the large group of men around your age at the bar, backwards baseball caps and muscles presumably only huge from steroids. They were screaming at the top of their lungs as a football game droned on on the TV in front of them.
The rain, the jocks. . . made you long for your bed immediately. . . Made you wish you would have just stayed home to wallow for the sole opportunity of letting the thunder lull you to a (much needed) restful sleep. Though, based on the night’s events, you weren’t sure how peaceful that slumber would actually be. Or how quickly it would come.
Thankfully, the prospect of going home came as soon as you started longing for it. The young waitress came by to ask for your drink order, but you went ahead and ordered the alfredo you’d been craving – along with the soft pretzels and cheese which automatically stood out to you when you’d opened the menu. 
Now all you were hoping was that you wouldn’t end up vomiting your guts up over your toilet later. Or worse, all over an Uber driver. You were taking a chance. This was the first time you’d eaten out since starting your new journey of eating and nausea meds. 
Speaking of, you promptly popped a PregEase in your mouth, directly from the stash in your belt bag slung across your chest.
You were thankful for the meds, but at the moment, you were actually totally fine with risking it. The one reason being: food was working as a pretty fantastic distraction from your problems for the time being. So. . . you were letting it do its job.
When the waitress brought your water out to you, your phone started buzzing and ringing in your belt bag, succeeding in interrupting you thanking her. The reverberations felt so good against your boobs (don’t fucking judge); at this point, you were convinced your chest was bound to feel like two heavy bags of tiny nails, for the rest of your life. Nothing brought them relief, and the phone felt surprisingly nice.
She kindly smiled, bringing your attention back to her from your boobs, saying she'd be back soon with your appetizer. You responded with a similar smile to hers and went about balancing all of the shit in your belt bag to get your phone out. 
You figured it was probably Elsie. She was the one most likely to be calling you at this time of night. She was known for using the late hour to openly vent to you about her day. Though, since Josh, the calls had become fewer and fewer. 
Finally getting the phone out and peeking at the screen, you were suddenly wishing it was Elsie. Because, the name staring back at you was making your tummy feel like swirling electricity. 
The process of getting your phone out had taken long enough, though, that you’d missed the call completely. You weren’t sure if it was a bullet dodged or a missed opportunity you were instantaneously longing to happen again.
You didn’t have to contemplate it for too long before his name was lighting up your screen again. And it was admittedly weird seeing his name with your current lockscreen wallpaper. . . A couple days ago, you’d impulsively taken a picture of the sonogram picture from your first appointment and made it your wallpaper. 
What if you’d accidentally left your phone where he could find it? Damn. Were you wanting him to find out on his own? Was that going to be your pussy ass way of telling him? Or were you just being impulsive and dumb?
Once again, the call went to voicemail. Except, there wasn’t time for him to leave one with how quickly he was calling you back.
Goddamn, y/n. Answer, your inner encourager forced you impatiently.
Swallowing thickly, you went to slide your finger over to answer. Your body was swimming with an increasing amount of anxiety. But, you answered it.
“Hello?” You spoke faintly, your belly flip flopping. 
He’s probably calling to say he’s packing his shit and moving out.
“Where are you?!” He asked, his voice ragged and worried. Uneven with what could only be fear. “I got home and you weren’t here and I’m freaking the fuck out. Are you okay? Are you safe? Are you with someone?”
Wait. What? Why was he scared?
For some reason, you wanted to be obtuse and not answer his questions. Apparently you were just feeling like an asshole tonight. You didn’t know. You were just tired as hell and didn’t know how to approach him. You wanted to tell him. But, you didn’t.
“I’m fine. I’m just not home.”
“Y/n. Fucking duh. I just told you I’m here,” he replied, impatient but still concerned. “Where are you?”
“What if I don’t want to tell you?” Lie.
He sighed. You could imagine him running a hand across his forehead. His eyes were most likely closed, out of patience. Damn. You’d gotten real used to stressing him out if you could guess the motions.
“Then don’t, I guess,” he relented, voice tense and irritated. “Can you just let me know you’re safe?”
As if on cue, the guys at the bar went ballistic. It made you tense up and roll your eyes at the disruption they were causing to the entire restaurant. But, specifically how they were shouting in the middle of you talking to Jake.  
“Are you at a party?” He gaped, sounding utterly shocked.
Yet again, the men started screaming at the top of their lungs, proceeding to yell a variation of the words Yes! and go-go-go-go!, plus a bunch of other shit you couldn’t understand.
You couldn’t help the growl that came from your mouth, your eyes slowly closing in annoyance. “No, Jacob. Do you really think I’d be at a party?”
“Jesus, sorry,” he apologized. He let out a deep sigh, causing the speaker to rattle a little into your ear. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m worried about you.”
Worried about–? What?
Lay off of him, y/n. You were crying buckets before you left home because you wanted him so badly. Come on. You know he is not the cause of the football fuckers going ham. Don’t take it out on him.
You let out a giant sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Tried to tune out the men to your left. Because Jake. Jake was on the phone. And it didn’t take rocket science to know that you really wanted to see him. Quite frankly, you felt the need to see him. 
But. . .did he want to see you? Or was he just being kind? Only worried about you because he was a decent human being? With no underlying, deeper meaning other than you being pregnant and alone? Did it make you weak if you told him where you were? 
Who cares? Just tell him.
“I’m at Applebee’s,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead before placing the same hand over your round belly to trace shapes against it. 
“Are you with someone?” He asked, tone smooth with a slight edge behind it.
“No, Jake,” you grumbled. Why did he care?
“Do you want me there?” He questioned apprehensively, sounding like it was what he wanted.
But why? He’d left you.
“Do you want to be here?”
“Yes–well,” he paused. “Only if you want me there.”
“Do you think I want you here?”
Why the game of 20 Questions, y/n? His night has already been hard enough.
You knew why. You were avoiding the impending confrontation of seeing him again. Just as much as you did want to see him, you were putting it off because you were nervous. There was no telling what would be said. Would he leave again? Would he say he didn’t want to be in the child’s life? Did it even matter?
“Yes,” he softly responded, waiting for you to confirm or deny.
He was right. And he’d unintentionally answered both of your questions. Yes, it mattered and yes, you wanted him here.
So, after telling him which Applebee’s you were at, he told you he’d be there soon and to stay put before he hung up. The sloppy jocks suddenly started cheering again, clapping each other’s backs. Though, in spite of them, you couldn’t help the quiet smile that swept over your lips.
He was coming for you.
-🌼🌼🌼-
There were about ten minutes between your apartment and Applebee’s, so you waited. 
Just ten minutes. But time crawled.
You were equal parts excited and terrified to see him. The only plausible solution to ease you while you waited, was to watch the door. Your brain was tripping over questions and curiosities all based around him, but just like you’d tried to do all night, you ignored them. Just watched. the. door. 
In reality, you really didn’t have much time to think about a whole lot before Jake was walking through the doors.  Not wearing a rain jacket (or a jacket of any sort) to cover him from the rain. . . which meant he was soaking. wet.
And oh no no no no. . . seeing him like that was not good for your baby hormones. Fuck. Why hadn’t he grabbed one before he left the apartment?!
He was going to catch a cold.
To be totally truthful, you were quite happy he hadn’t put one on. . . Reason being, you could see every single droplet that dripped from his hair. . .that touched his skin. You watched each one fall from the long strands of his wavy locks. Some dripped one-by-one, down the thick column of his neck. And others, directly to the tanned skin of his chest. . . Some even trailing to a hidden place underneath his shirt. . .
He was wearing a light blue button down, the material completely stained from the heavy, unrelenting downpour. You wanted to just peel it off of him–take care of him. You wanted to remove each piece of clothing, carefully dry every part of his body. . .
Not even meaning to, you caught yourself biting your lower lip before soothing it with a lick of your lips. . . 
Okay, y/n. Biting and licking your lips? Seriously?! Stop.
You turned around, pinching your eyes shut. Honestly, ogling over him in this very public space was not ideal. Shouldn’t have been ogling him at all. He wasn’t yours. But dammit your body couldn’t help but heat in his presence. 
Though, the atmosphere of the restaurant did not match your mood at all. In addition to the hoard of men with their beer, the place had become busier – bustling with groups of women and men alike. 
The football guys were still the worst part. You were getting sick of them–on your last nerve.
The continuous hooting and hollering that emitted from the men was obnoxious at best. Stereotypical men. In their natural habitat. They hadn’t stopped acting like heathens during the game and whooped loudly at every Republican ad that played during the commercial breaks. . . Beer bottles repeatedly clanged against each other. You were coming to realize there was zero chance of them quieting down. 
And suddenly it dawned on you that the idea of having to talk to Jake in an Applebee’s, during a (presumably important) football game, sounded dreadful. Having white college men as background noise was the last thing you wanted.
You looked back over towards the door, anxious to set eyes on a real man. Only to find he was finally making his way to you. His shoulders, broad, but shaking and shivering. He kept his arms tightly at his sides, hands in pockets and arms flexing with the shivers, beneath the thin material of his button down. 
You didn’t look too long, though. . . Turned back around — didn’t want to stare long enough for him to catch you. You shook your thoughts away. And for the first time since you’d sat down, the young, drunken men were slightly welcomed as they helped to keep you nailed down to the present with their ludicrous screams. 
Before you knew it, his body came into your view, walking down the small aisle to your table. God, he was handsome. Even with flushed cheeks and wet hair sticking to his face, he was beautiful. 
When Jake finally slid into the booth, he was still shaking off his chill. He cupped his hands around his mouth and breathed harshly into them before clapping and rubbing them together under the table. You knew you were in a daze watching him and you’d stay that way if you didn’t try to speak soon.
“Are you trying to catch a fucking cold?” You hastily questioned him, raising your eyebrow for emphasis. 
He stilled momentarily, setting a steady glare your way. “I rushed here. I didn’t think about grabbing one before just focusing on getting here.”
“Why the rush? You knew I was safe.”
“I was anxious to see you.”
Your heart leapt into your throat. So anxious to not grab a cover for this rainstorm? Why? 
“But you’re the one who left me,” you responded hesitantly after taking a minute to consider his words.
Suddenly, he stopped shaking. He cast his eyes down, sweeping over the table as he chewed at the inside of his cheek. 
“I didn’t know what else to do,” he muttered before glancing up at you with eyes that read regret. “It was not the right decision. I know that and I’m so sorry. But I was just feeling a shit ton of emotions and I— I didn’t know what else—.”
“To do. I know,” you finished for him, nodding along to remind him he’d already mentioned that. “That’s not a valid excuse.”
He looked about ready to agree, but then his brows wrinkled and he tilted his head. He looked unsure. “I’m not sure if it’s valid or not, but it’s definitely not an excuse. I quite honestly didn’t know how the fuck to react, so that’s how I chose to feel it. Just needed to leave and refresh by—.”
“By fucking Maya?” You bit back.
What–?
Shit. Where the hell did those words come from? You hadn’t even. . . fuckfuckfuck. Nothing like fully exposing feelings you harbored.
“Excuse me?” He clipped back, voice alternating to a deeper tone. Aggravated. 
You stuttered out a reply the best you could. “I–I was– I didn’t mean to–,” you bowed your head, ashamed of yourself. “I don’t know where that came from. I’m sorry.”
Really, you were very sorry. It was uncalled for. 
His response was unexpected. “Don’t be sorry,” he softly said, sighing. Your eyes drew up, waiting to hear what else he had to say. You were not expecting him to reassure you. If you were in his shoes, you’d be appalled. He was rubbing his forehead when he tiredly responded, “Emotions are high right now.”
“Yeah, I guess. Except. . . I don’t really have a reason to be a bitch because I’ve already dealt with this,” you explained, motioning to your belly at the word this. “I’ve accepted it and I need to just. . . calm down.”
He snorted a laugh, brushing the tip of his nose with his pointer finger. The black hair-tie wrapped around his middle finger flashed into view. “Y/n, honey,” he started. But–you were slightly incoherent. Honey? What the fu–? “You’ve always been emotional. In all situations. No matter what,” he blew out a breath, a shiver running up his spine. He was drying off, slowly but surely. “I, of all people, would know.”
That last bit distracted you momentarily from him calling you a pet name. A sweet one at that. But. . . you weren’t focused on that. Rather, you were reeling at the fact that he’d just essentially made mention of the fact that he was the victim of you exposing your raw emotional state.
All you could think about— as you saw a glimpse of hurt flash over his brown eyes, him no doubt thinking of the same thing—was the kitchen. That blessed day in the kitchen where you’d gone full blast on him.
Avert avert avert.
You coughed, trying your best to clear the air. “I know it was probably necessary for you to go—leave. . . To think somewhere else, but . . . it did just suck for you to leave,” you admitted shyly. “It wasn’t an ideal time to be alone. Although. . .,” you sighed, watching his face as he concentrated on you. “I guess I brought it on myself. I should have told you sooner.”
“I am curious. . . Why didn’t you?”
“Because I was afraid of that happening,” you truly stated, waving your hand towards him. “I was afraid of you . . . leaving or something that would hurt like hell. . .”
He nodded, pursing his lips as he considered it. “I understand that,” he caught your eyes, his own, soft. Then, suddenly vulnerable. “But. . . wouldn’t it have been easier to tell me first? And wasn’t it maybe more daunting to tell Josh? I mean you had to tell him about–,” he motioned between you two. You couldn’t help the blush that painted your cheeks. Then, he looked curious, brow quirked. “Wait. . . does he even know that it’s mine?”
“Yes, he does,” you confirmed with a barely-there grin. 
He looked like he wanted to ask you something else, but ended up shaking his head and looking down at his lap, his hands moving to twiddle beneath the table before he did. 
“You’re partially right. It would have made more sense to tell you first,” you agreed partially with his earlier statement, watching him. “But I’m not sure it would have been easier. . . there are factors in the way–between us. . . people that don’t deserve to have their lives changed.”
When he looked up from where he’d been watching his hands move, his eyes met yours. You shared a look, and you knew he understood why it would have been difficult. He knew the people–the person–you were referring to. 
“I see your point. But. . .,” he cleared his throat. “It’s just me. No matter what’s changed between us. . . I’m still me. And this particular situation only concerns you, me, and the baby. No one else,” he clarified. “So, just because she’s in the picture now. . . it doesn’t mean you need to keep things from me.”
She's in the picture now. . . Stupidly, those words broke your heart.
The waitress was suddenly at the table with your food. All of it. Pretzel sticks, cheese, and your main course. She set your order on the table, but you knew you didn’t want to be here much longer. Not when you heard the hollering begin again towards the bar. You were also growing increasingly more tired by the second. 
“Can I get the alfredo to go?” You asked hopefully. 
“Sure! You want me to bring boxes for the rest, too?” Her large gray eyes were wide and bright with her seemingly innocent youth. “Just in case.”
“Yeah,” you grinned, leaning your arms on the table. “Sounds good. Thanks.”
She had nodded and was beginning to walk off when she noticed Jake sitting with you. When she saw him, her eyes bugged out and she stopped in her tracks before continuing any further.
“Wait–,” she started, her brow lifting. “Are you. . . in a band?”
His eyes darted to yours and then back to hers before he answered with a wide grin. “Yeah, actually,” he replied. “I am. It’s called–.”
“I know what it’s called!” She shrieked, her face lighting up instantaneously. “My friends and I love you guys. We’ve been to a few of your shows. We even saw you at the festival and got your demo CD! We went just for you guys,” she gushed, not pausing for more than a second. “I was so excited when I started to see your posters all over,” she rushed out, squealing a little. “We’re so excited for your shows coming up!”
His grin loosened, his cheeks flushing along with hers. “Well, thanks for coming to see us when we play,” he softly responded. “We have some other music being released soon. With a label,” he winked, glancing your way. You blushed, too, for whatever reason. What was happening in front of you? “Be on the lookout.”
The waitress’s smile took up her entire face. “Oh, we will!” She nodded enthusiastically, watching him closely for a few seconds longer than necessary. “I have to tell you. . . you’re so much hotter up close. I mean, from far away, hell yes. But right here? Oh my god.”
You decided you were definitely ready to leave. 
The guys at the bar began exploding at the football game just then, the rain was still pattering against the window, tempting you. . . and then there was the apparent fangirl who did not want to leave. . . your eyes flickered to Jake’s. He’d been watching you, waiting for a sign.
“Do you mind grabbing those boxes?” He asked politely, his smile a bit more forced now. 
And he didn’t even have to ask twice before she was nodding excitedly and racing off to get him what he wanted. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
Thanks to Jake intervening and then quickly getting your food in the boxes for you, you were in his car within fifteen minutes. He’d effectively taken over the bill and paid for you, and had run to grab his car while he made you wait at the door. 
“You don’t need to be getting sick,” he’d explained, right before he covered the front of his face, beeping his car unlocked, and running to pull it up.
Your heart fluttered in your chest at the way he was tending to you. 
But before you could feel too giddy about it, you felt weird about it. You didn’t want him to suddenly like you again just because you were carrying his baby. He didn’t need to go above and beyond—you didn’t want him to feel obligated to do anything. So, as soon as he’d pulled his Jeep up (and helped you up and inside of it, effectively getting himself soaked again), you got in and waited for him to get in.
As you sat, it encouraged you even more because he’d even gone the extra mile and turned on the seat heaters. He was doing too much when he didn’t need to.
He’d started driving as soon you got in, and you tried damn hard not to watch him drive. Because, you’d just learned, that for some asinine reason, your fucking baby hormones went into overdrive when you’d tried watching a soaking wet Jake behind the wheel of his car. The way he leaned back, relaxed, one arm resting on the console between you two. . .
So, in order to distract yourself, you brought up your winding trail of thought. 
“Please don’t start caring about me again just because I’m carrying your baby.”
You heard him scoff under his breath, the sound alone making your heartbeat quicken as you waited for his response. 
“Start caring about you again? What does that even—?” 
Crossing your arms under your (always sore) boobs, you sat up straighter in your seat to keep some sort of dignity as you further explained. “Jake, you’ve been distancing yourself from me for months now—and for good reason, mind you—I just don’t want you to start doing nice things just because of this situation,” you sighed, deciding to instead lace your hands across your stomach. Training your eyes on your thumbs that tapped your sweatshirt, you continued. “I don’t need you overextending yourself on my behalf.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, and next time you looked up, you were already at the second to last light to the complex. Biting your lip, you contemplated what to say to break the heavy air in the car. . . you always hated when you felt like you’d said something wrong. And you knew you were very good at saying the wrong thing. 
So, you decided on an apology. “I’m sorry if something I said was wrong,” you offered, pitifully. It had been a long night. There was no way you wanted to end it with him mad at you. “Really. I just—.”
“You’re overthinking, y/n,” he promptly cut you off, making a turn to the last light. “I never stopped— I didn’t stop caring about you when we stopped—,” he blew out a breath, stopping at the red light. 
“I’m sorry I said tha—.”
“No. Don’t be sorry. You’re right; I have been distant. And, again, you were right when you said it's for good reason. It’s been for damn good fucking reason,” he clipped, letting the words sit in the air for a minute. “But just because I’m not talking to you or falling asleep next to you—.” He coughed. You could imagine he was shaking his head. “It doesn’t mean I don’t still want what’s best for you. Hence why I’m the one who initiated the therapy conversation. I kept my end of the deal and researched for you because I care.”
Your insides had officially turned to mush and you weren’t sure how to process that he still cared so deeply. But, he was right. . . Him bringing up the therapy showed his heart. . . You knew his heart. Knew how deeply he felt things. . . What you would continue to wonder was why you were something he hadn’t stopped caring about. When you’d been such a massive bitch. You weren’t worth it.
Heart beating quickly in your chest, you cleared your throat as he once again passed through a green light. The last one. You were almost home. 
Gotta wrap it up quickly.
“I’m sorry again,” you muttered. “For not telling you sooner.”
“Don’t be. It was your call to tell who you wanted first,” he sighed, turning on his right blinker to turn into the complex. “I just need to get out of my head about it—need to not let it piss me off.”
You looked out the windshield, the rain had let up. It was only sprinkling now. Taking a deep breath, you admitted to him what you knew to be true. “I really should have told you before Josh. I know that.”
Glimpsing for a millisecond from the corner of your eye, you saw his lip quirk before he looked your way at the perfect moment. Your eyes met briefly before you turned back to observe the parking lot through your window.
“Really?” He questioned warily. “Do you mean that or are you just saying it to make me feel better? Because you don’t have to do that just because I’m being a pussy abou–.”
The snort-laugh that came from you was unintentional, but you couldn’t contain it. “Jake. You aren’t being a pussy.” You turned your head to get a better look at his face now that he’d parked. His eyes waited for yours, highlighted by the fluorescent light he’d parked underneath. Right next to your Jetta. Smiling, you surely stated, “And, yes, I mean it. Truly. I know it would’ve been the right thing for me to tell you first.” 
Considering the car was still running and in park. . .it seemed he wasn’t anxious to get inside. He was content like this. . . at least that’s what you gathered from the way he’d swiveled his body to face you better from his seat. So, you continued on with honesty, while you felt brave. “I was just really scared. Scared to tell you and learn how you’d react. . . I didn’t want to disappoint you with something you really do not need to be responsible for . . .”
Then, the unthinkable happened and he was reaching over to hold your hand over the console. It was a feeling unlike any other–the feeling of his skin against yours. The comfort of his hand, the warmth, the callouses that scratched your flesh the slightest bit as he rubbed the top of your hand with his thumb. How long had it been since he’d touched you?
His voice and the squeeze he gave your hand brought you out of your daze. “Y/n. . . look at me.” You did as he said, following his soft, gravelly tone, finding his eyes with your own. “I am the furthest thing from disappointed.”
“But–,” you shook your head, your brow wrinkled as you searched his eyes. “But the way you left. How angry you were because I hadn’t told you yet–or–or before Josh. . .”
“There’s a difference between feeling plain old upsetedness and full on disappointment,” he clarified, his eyes swimming in yours. His strong hand lightly held yours, squeezing once more. “I assure you, I was never once disappointed tonight that you are having my baby.”
. . .having my baby. The words bounced around in your head. . . hearing him say those words just. . . did something to your heart.
“I’m excited about all of it. Honestly.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners with how his eyes lit up at the sentiment. “I mean, it was a lot to wrap my mind around and I still haven’t totally grasped the reality yet, but. . . I’m happy. Very happy,” he squeezed once more, still not moving his hand from wrapping the top of yours. “And I really hope you let me take responsibility as the father of the baby, because I really want to know this child. . . already matters so much to me.”
Your heart clenched at his words. . . He meant them and you knew it. Jake’s heart was arguably the most genuine, honest, exquisite you’d ever come across. So, it really didn’t take a second thought to utter your next words. “You can absolutely have the responsibilities of a father. . . if that’s what you want,” you raised your eyebrow with the word if. And at that, he’d nodded with an I do spoken quietly against the lull of the A/C. 
Though, there was one thing that he needed to know. The protective mama in you — that part of you needed to say this for your baby’s sake. He or she would not hurt like you had your whole life. 
“However,” your tone got serious, unwavering. “You can’t pull the shit with leaving like you did tonight with the baby. If you want the responsibility, you’ve gotta be sure.”
“I am,” he said, not missing a beat. “I won’t do that again.”
“I mean, you can do it to me. I can handle it. I’ve learned that that happens. . . but the baby. . . I just–.”
“I’m not leaving either of you alone in this,” he assured, leaning closer to you. Your heart skipped a beat. Due to still drying from the rain, he smelled like the Earth– fresh, sweet, real. Solid. True. “I know you won’t be alone because you have Josh and Elsie and so many other people, but. . . I want to be in this with you and the baby.”
“What about Maya?” You lightly asked, slightly confused. 
“She’s not going anywhere anytime soon,” he responded quickly. Too quickly. It made your chest tight and a giant rock hit the pit of your stomach. “But she will understand that I have to be there for you.”
Not trusting yourself to talk with the tears gathering in your throat, you just nodded before bowing your head to look at your little tummy. Reassurance in the sweetest, most innocent form. 
He took a deep breath, the rush of his breath, fresh from a mint he’d sucked on on the way back. “I really shouldn’t have left you tonight,” he firmly stated.
You looked up from your belly, blinking a few times to register that he was speaking so closely to you, close enough for his breath, now brushed your cheek. Not super close, but close enough. Much closer than he’d been for a while. 
He continued, “And you shouldn’t have to feel guilty for telling me on your own time. You are the one who was in charge of all of those decisions. It’s your body. Your body that’s growing the baby. . . So, it’s your right to decide things like that,” he enunciated, his intent to reassure, clear in his tone. “It just sucks a little bit for me that it was Josh, but that’s on me. . . not you. But even with all of that, I really should not have left. That gave you the opposite idea of what I wanted to give you. . . It was just a-fuckin’-lot to process all at once.”
“Yes, and you are completely entitled to believing that it was a lot–that it is a lot,” you reassured him, regretting a few of your words from earlier. “Even if you’re not the one carrying the baby, it’s going to be intense for you as the father. Maybe even more so–.”
He made a little noise of disagreement, but you just gave a quiet grin, holding up a hand.
“. . .in some senses. Especially since you can only experience it from the outside. I’m the one who is experiencing all of the changes, all of the time. I’m reminded every time I look down or touch my belly, but you don’t have that luxury every moment of the day.”
“Yeah, but it’s still more for you,” he argued.
“It’s okay, Jake,” you smiled. “I still agree. Trust me. I just wanted you to know that I understand how it might end up feeling for you. I was just afraid I made you feel like you weren’t validated in feeling overwhelmed. Leaving made sense. It’s just the worst feeling for a girl with abandonment issues,” you chanced a look down at your tummy, feeling awkward approaching so many personal feelings. It felt weird that it still felt so natural. He just brought it out in you. You quickly covered, not wanting to seem overbearing. “W-which, I can handle it–it is not on you to–”
“No, it is on me,” he seriously professed, eyes earnestly holding onto yours. “I knew about your past and I still left you. I am seriously so sorr–.”
“Jake,” you sighed his name, looking up at him again. His jaw was flexing, eyebrows turned in. “Stop apologizing,” your lips lifted in a soft smile, bringing a hand to sit on top of his. “We all do things we regret and it wouldn’t be fair for us to hold those things against each other. . . when we’ve all done thoughtless things in the heat of the moment.” At the last bit, your eyes left his to flash at your tummy.  Your hand left the top of his to delicately hold your small bump. “Example A of a ‘Heat of the Moment’ moment.”
A quiet beat passed, his face thoughtful as his eyes studied your own before he spoke. 
“I don’t regret that one though,” he said, eyes so big and so beautifully deep with emotion. 
Wetness was suddenly gathering in the corners of your eyes when you traced them over him—over his chest, tanned and exhaling so handsomely with every breath he took. You looked away from his perfect pecs, and back up to his eyes. 
“I don’t either.”
There were a few slow, nearly silent moments where all you could hear was the sound of your combined breaths with the A/C blasting against you both. Your hands still held each other, gripped each other. His hair was dry. His face was dry. And in the secret dimness of the night and the bright light of the tall lamp outside, you could see all of the delicate markings and freckles on his face. The light birthmark on the tan skin of his cheek.
Before you could think to do another ‘Heat of the Moment’ thing (weird term, but it definitely applied to you), and do something like rub the skin of his birthmark with your thumb, he was breaking eye contact, skin contact, and shutting the car off. 
“Better go inside,” he said, pausing as he’d just taken the keys out of the ignition. “It’s getting late.”
“It also might start pouring again,” you added, opening your door, trying to make conversation. 
He didn’t open your door that time, like he had at the restaurant. He just sent a quiet smile your way before getting out of his side. He did, however, wait for you to meet him at the rear bumper of the car before heading back to the apartment. You matched one another’s steps in silence. It was a bit awkward now, unlike the calm, still moment in the car. Your breaths, having combined in the shared space. . .
When you’d made it inside, he told you to go get ready for bed and that he’d feed Stevie and take care of the rest of the apartment.
“You just go to bed,” he waved you off, his expression kind. “It’s been a long night and you need rest.”
He obviously wanted to help, so you let him. Albeit, you let him do so while your heart fell a bit in your chest at your evening with him coming to an end. You hoped that there would be more times like this in the future with the baby you now both knew you shared. 
Absently, you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, then nodded and gave a faint goodnight. Once you were getting into bed in a giant t-shirt to cover the bit of ass exposed at the edges of your comfortable granny panties, you heard a little knock against your cracked door. 
You waited for him to come in since the door was still cracked, but he didn’t.
“Yeah?” You called, brows drawn in.
He opened the white paneled door just enough to show him at the threshold of your room. His hand was on the knob while he leaned with the opposite forearm against the doorframe. You did very well at not blatantly checking him out. That was something to be proud of. 
Though, you couldn’t be too proud, because you knew it was just because your tiredness had hit you like a ton of bricks. It had been impossible to ignore as soon as you’d felt the cool, soft cotton of the gray oversized t-shirt touch your skin. 
Your blinking was becoming slower and slower by the second. But your eyes perked up a little when he cleared his throat, suddenly interested in anything he had to say. Even if it was something as simple as Stevie not being hungry. Just wanted to hear his voice once more before going to bed.
And you got exactly that as his eyes swept over your face briefly, deep in thought. “I really, genuinely do want to help however I can with the baby stuff—however you want me or need me. I want to help you because it means I’m helping the baby. Our baby.”
Okay, the next time he referred to the baby being his, you were sure your heart was going to beat completely out of your chest. It did things to you.
“Alright,” you responded tiredly, a slight blush warmed your cheeks. “That sounds good.”
When you loudly yawned, he nodded with a quiet grin fitting his handsome features. He began to shut the door, but just before he could, he opened it once more.
“I–,” he cleared his throat. Your stomach felt airy and light at the possibility of what he might say. You didn’t know what to expect, but him talking to you was just. . . exactly what you needed. “I took a drive and listened to music, by the way.” 
You blinked, brow furrowed with confusion. “. . .What?” 
“When I left tonight. I just drove around and listened to music,” he said, his amber-brown eyes, so earnest. “Cleared my head with music.”
“Why are you telling–?” You sleepily wondered aloud.
“I. . . didn’t go see anyone,” he elaborated. “Just wanted you to know that. Also, I promise I won’t tell anyone–including Maya– until you’re ready.” 
“Okay,” you squeaked, unsure of what else to say.
After observing each other for just a few moments after he’d spoken, he suddenly dipped out with a quick ‘Goodnight.’
The thunderstorm picked up again right after he’d left you, Stevie racing in, all frazzled, with her tail fluffed out at the sounds of the storm. The sleep that threatened to cloud your vision was a most welcome friend as you let yourself become cozy under your soft, high thread count sheets and fluffy, featherlight duvet. Your head was nestled against the pillow, Stevie snuggled against your ankles, purring. And your brain was just wandering off to slumberland when you understood why he’d said what he did about not being with anyone. . . it finally clicked. 
He’d wanted you to know he hadn’t been with Maya like you’d assumed. Like you’d brashly accused him of at Applebee’s.
. . .But why did he care to tell you? 
-🌼🌼🌼-
The next morning, you sat at the counter with a book about pregnancy, taking notes. It was the end of your new morning routine. 
You didn’t have class or work for the day, so you were enjoying some much needed down time. The idea that you’d be able to take countless naps literally made goosebumps rise on your skin. 
“Hey.”
And now you had even more goosebumps erupting at the sound of his raspy voice. 
“Morning,” you replied, highlighting a line in your book about staying ‘physically active’ during pregnancy. 
“Morning. You feeling okay?”
“Mhm. . .” you replied, halfway present and barely looking up from the page and the sticky you were jotting a note onto.
“Taking notes?”
“So many,” you giggled, your eyes finally looking up to find him dressed and ready for the day at the Keurig, preparing a cup of coffee. “All the time, I’m doing research.”
“I believe it,” he replied, clicking his K-cup in the holder. The hot drink was trickling into his mug when he looked at you in question. “Based on your research, can you have caffeine? Could I make you a coffee or something?”
“Um, not the safest in high amounts,” you pondered, flipping to the page where you’d just read about that a few days ago and quoted the book for him. “‘Drinking caffeine during pregnancy has some major health risks. The caffeine gets digested much slower and goes through the placenta into your baby’s bloodstream,’” you droned, feeling obnoxious with the long response. 
“Interesting. Anything else it says about it?”
You raised a brow and gave him an ‘mhm’ before looking at the page again. “‘This means that the caffeine side effects of a racing heart rate, high blood pressure, and a stimulated nervous system affect you and your baby. The result is a higher chance of miscarriage. Even small amounts have been known to cause a 13% increase in low birth weight for your newborn,’” you glanced up, he was rubbing his chin, listening to every word. So, you finished out the paragraph. “‘Try switching to a naturally decaffeinated herbal tea, but do consult your doctor or midwife as certain herbs can cause premature labor.’”
“Have you tried any herbal tea?”
You made a gagging motion. Herbal tea honestly did not strike your fancy at this stage in your life. “The baby says herbal tea sounds disgusting,” you joked. He huffed a laugh with you as you finished your thought. “I’m looking into smoothies to start the day. I’m actually going to try making a few today since I’m home all day.”
“Cool. Just thought I’d offer,” he finished. 
Or so you thought.
After getting his coffee off the Keurig, he made his way around the counter to sit in the barstool next to you. Heat washed over your face at his closeness.
“Speaking of doctor or midwife. . . which are you going with?”
“Doctor,” you answered. “Her name is Dr. Rose. Sweet, middle aged, Southern lady.”
“Oh, you’ve had your first appointment?” He asked, sounding curious and a little apprehensive. 
“Yeah. . . First one last week.”
“Oh,” he replied, sounding just a little discouraged. But he tried to cover it. “Cool. How did it go? Did you have to go alone?”
“Mhm,” you said, suddenly digging into a page and very seriously taking notes on a sticky note about random ass shit you could care less about. “Josh went. It went well.”
He hummed, not responding right away. And you knew why. 
You really did feel guilty now that you’d taken Josh to your first appointment and not Jake. He was the baby’s father, after all. And thinking about how he’d have reacted to seeing the baby with you, both of you, for the first time. . . You were suddenly very downcast as you thought of the missed opportunity. 
“But you can come to the rest of them with me,” you rushed out, suddenly looking up at him as you said so. His eyes were huge as he watched you be neurotic. God, you were annoying. “If–if you want. I don’t want to pressure you.”
“O–of course. Yes,” he stuttered. “You tell me when and I’ll be there. Every single one.”
You realized he sounded eager and thrilled, not frightened like you feared. 
“Okay,” you acknowledged, slightly breathless. 
Once again, you were in the same situation as you had been last night. He was, once more, so close. Right there. Your shared breathing, the only sound comprehensible to your ears in the calm, quiet of the morning. His breath, smelling of coffee, should have turned you off. . . but it didn’t not at all. And the way he went to lick his lips, just once– his eyes, not leaving yours. . . 
Then, he was jolted back to reality, blinking furiously. 
“I’ve, um, gotta go run some errands and then I have a meeting with the label,” he suddenly said, rising up. He grabbed his cup, rushing around, dumping it in the sink before grabbing a cinnamon bagel from the pantry. He bent to get a Zip-loc bag from a lower cabinet, and your eyes moved on their own to his ass in his light denim jeans. 
What. A. Sight. Now you were darting your tongue out to sweep over your lips.
He zipped up the bagel and left it on the counter to hurry to his room. When he reappeared, he was holding his phone, sending a text based on the sound, before he tucked it into his front pocket. He also held a beat up guitar case. 
“Still carrying around that same old case?” You grinned, a brow perked at the sight of the duct tape holding it together. A few stickers here and there, littering the case. “Not a new one to match your new rockstar life?”
“The case adds character,” he winked, your blushing face, the victim. Then, he was on his way to the door, keys jingling out of the bowl on the counter and into his hand. “Let me know if you need anything today.”
You were responding with an agreeing noise and word as he shut the door behind him. But when your eyes scanned the counter again, you saw the bagel. Even though it was just a bagel with cinnamon swirl, it was still his breakfast. He needed to eat. That’s what had you rushing out the door after him, your page getting a quick sticky pressed into it.
And, as soon as you saw the twinkle in his eye at you remembering to grab the bagel for him, you realized that you just wanted that. If you were being completely honest, you’d just needed that one last smile to start your day. The perfect start to a morning, you’d say. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
You decided to order some chicken fajitas from a local restaurant. DoorDash was your new best friend with the pregnancy cravings. 
Chicken fajitas were a new favorite for the baby. A weekish ago when you’d first tried them as a pregnant woman, you’d learned they tasted more delicious than they ever had before. They didn’t make your tummy roll.
As you waited for the food to arrive, you decided to do some tidying around the apartment. You washed a couple of dishes you’d left in the sink from the morning, and picked up notebooks, textbooks, and toys of Stevie’s from around the living room. Then, after further inspection of the living room, you realized it could handle a sweep or two with a vacuum. And after that, you decided to Swiffer the kitchen. Didn’t feel like full-on mopping, but you had to round out the floor cleaning. 
Before you could head to your bedroom or restroom to clean those spaces, a boundary was drawn for you when you heard a knock at the front door. DoorDash. Food. Fajitas.
Suddenly, unashamedly, your mouth was watering. Food took total priority over cleaning and you left the vacuum and Swiffer precisely where they were. You never left them out after cleaning, but you were hungry, okay? 
But just as you’d made it to the door, you didn’t have to open it. Instead, you heard polite conversation from the other side, thank you’s and have a good night’s. 
Before he opened the door, you went ahead and did it for him. And so, when you did, there was Jake, holding your food. The fajitas didn’t matter much anymore. 
Well. . . That was until he walked in and you got a good whiff of the steaming, seasoned vegetables and grilled chicken. Priorities were back to normal real quick with an embarrassing rumble from your stomach. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
Once you’d eaten all of your food in basically one bite, you sat on your sofa with a damn good book you were quickly becoming entranced by. But about twenty minutes into you sitting there, Jake appeared from where he’d disappeared to shower after he’d sat your food on the counter.
“You know, I keep thinking about something,” Jake started, coming to sit on the opposite end of the couch from you.
He was freshly showered— looking and smelling fucking delicious–hints of citrus came from his drying hair. Then, you smelled the warm and slightly sweet scent of sandalwood as he moved, propping his pajama clad legs on the coffee table in front of you two, unsticking his ripped t-shirt from his probably still-wet chest. You tried very hard not to watch him situate himself, too. The way he adjusted the inner seam of his pants, dangerously close to his. . . 
Yeah, you looked away. Focused hard on the book you were trying your damnedest to read. His body was a massive distraction. 
Trying to not be totally inappropriate, you replied to his earlier statement, still training your eyes on the page in front of you. “What were you thinking about?”
“I brought up the therapy thing the other night,” he started. You gave an absentminded ‘mhm’ in response, finally finding slight interest in the characters in front of you again. “And I’ve been wondering. Did you ever give that a second thought? Starting therapy?”
You blinked your eyes a few times, trying to catch up with the more serious topic of conversation. Looking up from your book, you closed it and put it to the side. When you placed the novel on the coffee table, he followed your hand back to you. His eyes found yours and your eyes fluttered again. You shook your head. “Yeah,” you trained your features, letting a smile float to your lips at his attention to you. “I actually–um–I started going.”
His features showed unkempt elation at your words. His eyes, bright and a wide smile on his lips. He sat up, facing you better than before, a foot balanced on the floor as the other bent with his body leaning towards you. “Seriously?!”
“Yeah,” you blushed. Why did he care so much? Surely it was mostly for the wellbeing of the baby. Right? 
You know he cared before he knew about the baby, a calm voice hushed in the corners of your mind. Just let him in. Don’t be afraid.
Clearing your throat, you kept up with your thoughts and tried to open up in spite of your ever-swirling unsureness. “Thank you for doing the research. Really. I’m super grateful. You gave me the push I needed and I’ll never be able to thank you enough. The baby, too,” you added. “I wanted to get better for the baby. You two made quite the team in helping me want to be better.”
His cheeks reddened, complimenting his skin tone and the few freckles and scars that dotted his cheeks. He shook his head, “Don’t thank me. I just wanted to help–that’s it. You made the brave move to start,” his lips twitched with a quiet, close-lipped grin. “How’s it going? Well–no–you don’t have to answer–that’s not my–.”
You ignored him, suddenly feeling this urge to fill him in. “I love my therapist. Like, she is already one of my favorite people on this fucking earth,” you beamed, thinking of Gia’s wonderful aura and personality. “And we actually start EMDR in a couple of weeks.”
“Oh,” he started, surprised. His eyes widened as he leaned back into the arm of the couch nearest him. “You decided on EMDR, too?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, glancing down briefly before letting your eyes dance with his again. “That seemed to be the only logical route since there’s so much shit to dig through that I don’t even–can’t even remember. It seemed like the most intensive form of therapy and I needed that.”
“Are you afraid of what you might find?”
“Yes,” you replied without question. “But, that’s the only way you can properly heal. Sometimes things that feel right–like EMDR, because it just feels like the right path already– those things, they’re going to probably also feel a little uncomfortable and feared at first. But, it all leads to the ultimate destination of being healed. And that’s what matters most.”
There was a quietness, a cozy silence that settled between the two of you. A few moments where you shared breaths and your gazes intertwined. . . It felt heavenly to share space with him like this when things felt normal and all right between the two of you. There wasn’t another word for it. 
His eyes were sincere with his tone when he broke the silence. “Y/n,” he breathed your name, making your tummy flutter with the most illustrious butterflies. “I am so fucking proud of you.”
Suddenly feeling like you were getting too much praise for something you were doing for the baby rather than yourself, you shook your head and brushed him off with a wave of your hand. “Don’t be,” you encouraged with a little scoff, shaking your head. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”
“I will be proud and it is a big deal,” he concluded. “All I’ve wanted is for you to feel closer to being whole–you deserve it.”
“The baby deserves it most,” you argued–didn’t want to be self-centered on the subject. “It’s for the baby.”
“Well,” he cleared his throat, crossing his arms across the chest of his white t-shirt. “I want you to focus on helping yourself, too, y/n. Please,” he asked, tone softening. Your eyes flickered across his. “I brought it up in the first place because I wanted you to feel better.”
You took it as food for thought, nodding at his words. Truly, you did consider what he’d said. . . his opinion mattered a helluva lot to you–probably too much. But you didn’t want to waver from who you were doing it mostly for. Your hand found your tummy as you reached the coffee table for your book and Stanley. 
Taking a big sip from your trusty tumbler, you eyed him once more before opening your book. You didn’t want him to feel obligated to stay in here with you when you were sure he had better things to do. “I will remember that,” you offered with a small grin, flipping your book open to where you dog-eared it. 
You waited for him to get up from his spot on the couch, but. . . he didn’t. He stayed put, situating his body to face the TV. 
In your peripheral vision, you saw how his legs spread across the cushion and once again tried to ignore ignore ignore. But you couldn’t help the thought that there was just something so fucking enticing about Jake Kiszka manspreading. It was gross when every other man did it. But Jake? All it made you want to do was straddle his sturdy hips.
Fuck. Focus on the book. Come on, y/n.
“Also. . .you realize, if you are craving something,” he began, pulling you from your book yet again. “You don’t have to DoorDash it. I’m always willing to go get you the food you are wanting.”
To put it simply, you were surprised by the turn in conversation. It was sort of random, but also not random all at the same time. 
For no reason whatsoever, you decided to combat the sweet offer. “What if you’re with Maya when I’m craving something?”
Why the fuck were you like this? Honestly, it felt mostly like a form of protection from getting your hopes up too high. . . it was a coping mechanism. But you hated it. It was stupid.
He hummed, thinking. Then, he piped up with an answer in no time. “I’ll just try to make sure we hang out here more than her house. Simple.”
Oh, joy.
“You’d rather be here than her massive mansion of a home?” You questioned, trying to not think about seeing her stupidly stunning face more than you wanted to. 
“Well, yeah,” he confusedly responded. “This is my home and I like being here.”
His home. He liked being here. The words pulled at you–in every direction. Broke you and made you wish things were different.
“How does she afford that, by the way?” You unapologetically nosed, not wanting to sit in any downhearted thoughts. It was rude to pry, you knew. But you didn’t really care at the moment.
He chuckled raspily, reaching to the coffee table for the Roku remote. When your eyes immediately looked over your book to peer at his waist, you didn’t think twice about it. It was whatever. “She’s the financial manager for this big corporation on Fifth Avenue.”
Your stomach fell. Jesus. Besides having trash music taste, apparently she was incredibly intelligent, too? What didn’t she have? You couldn’t even figure out what the fuck you wanted to do with your life and she was financially managing a giant ass company?Depressing as hell. Showed you your worth once again, in comparison to her. She was someone and you were literally nobody. 
“Can I watch something?” He asked you, patiently waiting. You gave a half-ass ‘yeah, of course’ in reply, not fully present. 
And when he eventually turned on some documentary about pirates that sort of piqued your interest, too, you decided to close your book for a final time. And you didn't put any more substance to your gloomy self-consciousness. It was your own fault you were feeling this way now–being nosy when you shouldn’t have been. Prying into someone’s life who’d never done anything wrong to you. 
Yeah, she’d slept with Jake. . . but did she even know that you’d also–? Shit. Did she know that the woman her boyfriend lived with used to fuck him, too? How in the hell would she react to the news if she didn’t already know that–? Your stomach twisted into knots at the thought of her finding out about. . . all of it.
The courage sprouted up as a historian started speaking on an infamous female pirate. “Does–does Maya know that we used to. . .?”
His brows dipped, thoughtful, turning down the television to acknowledge you’d spoken. But, he kept watching the documentary, his eyes honed in on the black-boxed subtitles. “No, actually. No she doesn’t. Didn’t really feel the need to tell her.”
Of course he didn’t feel the need. It kind of really hurt, but it wasn’t on Jake. Not at all. You knew very well that the sex probably wasn't as important to him as he’d once expressed. You’d been so angry and hateful to him, enough to drive away any sort of deep, lingering feelings that might have lied there. 
He knew that it wasn’t special enough that she needed to know. It was something of the past. All that mattered now was her. Only now. . . There was one inevitable reason it would have to come to light. You didn’t give voice to the obvious. The fact that, now, he would have to tell her. And you both knew it. 
As he turned the volume up a couple notches, you couldn’t help but wonder how the fuck would she react. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
November 21, 2022
You couldn’t have made it to your car any faster if you tried. Looking at your parking decision in hindsight, you realized you should have parked closer to the campus advisory office. But you hadn’t. You’d left your car parked where it had been for class. So now you had to walk a much longer distance that you could have avoided. . . If you’d just thought ahead.  
And in depressing moments like these, you wished you would have. The tears that flew down your cheeks in steady tracks made you beyond grateful that you hadn’t worn mascara. You’d had to meet with your advisor today to touch base and talk career plans. . . It was something that Pratt had decided to add to all program studies, for senior students. The idea of the meeting was to help students feel supported. 
But you didn’t feel fucking supported. Not at all. The way your advisor had blatantly judged you for even daring to bring up the idea of being a lyricist. . . She had instantly struck your idea down with a curt shake of her head and furrowed brows. Her eyes had lit up with laughter. But thankfully, she hadn’t been so terrible as to actually laugh in your face. 
Her words hadn’t been much better than that alternative, though. She’d unabashedly, condescendingly criticized your idea of becoming a lyricist. She made you feel stupid for ever even thinking of it as a possibility. 
“I’m not saying it’s impossible, but there’s a very slim chance that a label will take a fresh graduate. That’s a career you have to prove yourself in. Takes a long time to do that, a lot of experience that you don’t have.” 
The snarky tone in her voice pissed you off. Her words stuck with you enough that they dared to crush every dream you had about your future, which is something an advisor should not do. They should encourage, not discourage, to the point of making their advisee’s feel like utter shit after an appointment. 
So, as you finally made it to your car, you tried to contain the sobs that threatened to escape. . . but to no avail. Because, over and over again, you thought of how your advisor–someone who should be helping you to pursue your dreams–basically told you that you weren’t good enough for the one thing you wanted to do. She’d told you as much in her “officially official doctorate-level” advisor lingo. If her goal had been to completely crush you, she’d done just that. 
You were glad your next stop was therapy because you desperately needed to hear Gia’s two cents.
-🌼🌼🌼-
November 21, 2022
You spent roughly 30 minutes filling Gia in on the past week of your life. She heard all about you telling Jake, talking to your campus advisor, and any other thing that came to mind to tell her. 
When you started the session, Gia had let you know that you only had the first thirty minutes because you needed to find your mental and emotional safe place by the end of the session. It was today’s goal to establish that place. Finding your footing in the safe place was a vital precursor before you began EMDR. She’d had great advice for your life update, once you’d effectively word-vomited all over her. 
To your utter relief, the career thing didn’t bother her at all. Her expression barely changed as she’d shrugged. The first thing she’d done was assure you that everything would be fine and it would work out and that you have time to figure it out, despite what societal norms would tell you. So, even though that had been the biggest, most terrifying thing on your mind when you’d shown up to counseling today, you decided to not worry about it since Gia didn’t seem disturbed by the news at all. 
“Anything is possible,” she’d reassured you once your tears had momentarily stopped after telling her everything your advisor had said. “Don’t let a few words–opinions– from one woman make you disbelieving of that fact.”
Her opinions on Jake were positive, too, which made your heart swell in your chest. Though, it simultaneously broke for the fact that you couldn’t kiss him and hug him and be with him to tell him what she thought of him. Would he think it was weird if you told him what she thought of him? Would it freak him out that you’ve talked about him enough to Gia that she has a solid preconceived opinion of him?
“And Jake. . .,” she’d remarked at the end of the thirty minute mark, rolling back in her chair to her desk to get a big swig of her herbal tea. Your baby thought it was gross, your stomach rolling, but good for her and her nasty tea. “He is an outstanding example of a man. I’m impressed with his actions, his words. . . all of it. He seems like a stand up guy, and I hope I get to meet him one of these days,” her grin was sly, but you didn’t know why. 
So, yes, while your heart beat erratically and longingly at her words about him, it simultaneously broke your heart for the fact that you couldn’t kiss him and hug him and be with him to tell him what she thought of him. Would he think it was weird if you told him what she thought of him? Would it freak him out that you’ve talked about him enough to Gia that she has a solid preconceived opinion of him?
It made you think, as you watched her type notes on her laptop . . . Would you have told him if you were still seeing each other? Surely so. . . But maybe not. . . you weren’t really the best at complimenting him. And you sort of (desperately) hated that.
Don’t fucking think about it, y/n, a thoughtful, protective voice said to you. Just think about you right now. 
So, you did the best you could to shove any thought of being a bitch to him from your mind. And instead focused on Gia’s comfortable couch. Soft camel-colored leather. The way the cushion sank under you felt like sitting on a dense cloud. She was making light conversation before getting to the nitty gritty. You focused on her the best you could. 
Today would be your first venture into the realm of EMDR. . . . And you were anxious to begin this long-awaited journey of replenishing your soul with the incredible gift of reprocessing. 
“The safe place we are finding today will be where you go when things become too much during our EMDR sessions.” Gia wheeled closer to you in her light pink office chair, the smell of eucalyptus and mint following her, as she must use it as a sort of body oil or spray. She carried the calming smell with her everywhere. And the office, so wonderfully consoling with the scent of lavender. The little machine that spurted the essential oil every 10 minutes. All of these things combined, keeping the room drenched in calm. 
“There are places your mind is going to take you, some darker than others. These are scenes from your life that you will need to experience again in order for us to process through them so you can heal through them. Considering, you know, EMDR is simply a reprocessing technique,” she explained, adjusting her wire lens frames on her nose. “In order to not feel trapped, claustrophobic, or overwhelmed in these memories, you will need to have a safe place to turn to–a place to run to–a scene to easily unlock. It might be unknown to you until you actually plant your feet in that scene, but this place is already the natural wave your brain takes to feel safe.” She added one more thing to this train of thought. “This will just be the first time your brain is able to fully experience it. . . because you’re actually giving yourself the permission to do so.”
She held her hands out, palms up, and you took the hint and placed your hands in hers. As you would have guessed, her hands were soft as silk, matching the rest of her fairy-like aura. She squeezed once, lightly before continuing, “Now, I will be there the whole time, watching you, to monitor if you are doing alright. Sometimes you can sense it and get out, and other times it’s a little bit trickier. I will watch your eyes and the way your muscles tense, to gauge how I believe you’re feeling. Your body language will speak the words you may not be able to. This is an incredibly intricate form of therapy that we will wade through together. You will never be alone.”
She grinned, and you did the same. The way she explained these things to you was so assuaging. Were you scared? Hell yes. Of course you were scared. You were about to experience events that had become so dark and secreted in your mind, that they’d left you deep, lasting trauma. . . for a second time.
The re-experiencing aspect was daunting. But. . . you weren’t intimidated. You felt strong to withstand what was to come from your mind. There was the sense that you could overcome the darkness that was buried–some forgotten, some not–in your mind. . . especially if Gia was there to help you through it.
She let go of your hands after giving one more reassuring press. Then she was wheeling back to her desk.
“How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?” Gia asked, grabbing a round, average size cloth, zipped bag off of her desk and placing it in her lap. 
“I’m honestly feeling very much at ease right now. And, yes,” you replied honestly. You pressed your hands into the cool leather of the couch you were sitting on, your hands sinking into the ideally aged material. “I love your couch.”
“That’s good,” she smiled, full lips stretching over her white teeth. “Now, I want you to do a few calming exercises with me. We will start with deep breaths, then we will practice a few eye movement exercises. You just let me know when you’re ready.”
Not wanting to wait any longer, you responded readily. “I would love to begin whenever.”
“You’re sure?” 
“Yes,” you replied, brows fixed and eyes serious. “The sooner I can heal from this, myself, the sooner I’ll be healed for my baby. I’m ready.”
She raised a perfectly trimmed, coffee-colored brow. “You’re incredible, y/n.”
You rolled your eyes, but thanked her nonetheless. You weren’t incredible. Your baby was, and he or she was why you were doing this. The baby was your push, without even being born yet–the baby was the powerful one. 
Gia had you complete a variation of calming breathing exercises to center yourself. And after those, you completed eye movement exercises for the first time in your entire life. It was . . . odd, yet equally nice.
“Your body is loosening. You’re letting yourself transcend–easing your mind,” she said, voice airy and light. Your form felt just as light as her tone. “Now, open your eyes. We’ll do a shortened version of those techniques right before we begin. 
Your eyes slowly opened back to reality to see her unzipping the round black case she’d been holding in her lap. When she opened it, the contents of it were brand new to you. You’d never really seen a thing like the devices she was moving to hold in her hands. She pulled out two little black devices that were attached to a chord plugged into a slightly larger black box. This one, though, had knobs and buttons decorating the front of it. Your curiosity was growing by the second.
She wheeled her chair over to you once more, holding the black gadgets in each hand.
“These are tactical paddles,” she said, motioning for you to take them. When you did, she turned a knob on the black box she was still holding, sending a full vibration to the ones in your hands. “They’re buzzers that will help activate both sides of your brain during the session.”
They were buzzing one by one as you held them in the middle of your palms. You couldn’t tell if it was just your imagination, but you swore you felt each side of your brain moving right along with them. She scooted back a bit, giving you space to experience the feeling. She adjusted the knob just slightly once she’d moved away and you felt their vibrations speed up a little. 
“Do they feel okay?” She asked, situating the frames of her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. “How are you feeling?”
“It’s strange,” you said without thinking. “It’s very comfortable to hold them. . . but that is part of why it’s strange.”
Gia loosely giggled at that and reassured you that that reaction was more than typical and that she always considered that particular combination of feelings a good place to begin.  
After completing the body relaxation practices once more, you were being guided by Gia. “Relax your body. Lean back. Lay back. Whatever feels best for you.” With the last word, she adjusted the paddles down to a more neutral setting. Your hands felt tingly in a weird, yet contented way.
“Bring to mind the intention that you are practicing feeling safe when you actually are safe,” she softly said, soothing. “One of the best ways to evoke this feeling of safety is to imagine being in a place that you might really enjoy being–wherever you may feel naturally safe, peaceful, and/or calm.” She paused briefly, the paddles changed speed as your head started to become light. “It can be a real place or a place that you’ve come to imagine in your mind on instinct. This is the place you travel at the idea of feeling serene.”
You breathed an ‘okay’ in response, but focused more on the way the instruments in your hands were aiding in sending you somewhere. You felt the atmosphere of your mind slowly changing–equally present and not.
The word Gia had earlier used. . .’transcend.’ It was the perfect word because you currently were completely, wholly transcendent.
“I’m right here,” Gia quietly, gently reminded you, as the blackness behind your eyes took hold, becoming the only thing your five senses could grasp, aside from the sound of Gia’s gentle guidance. “You are doing great.”
You felt the instantaneous feeling of a light breeze brush your face. It pushed you back, but you also felt the feeling of your body keeping still. There were two places. Reality: Gia’s office. And somewhere completely unknown. . . You were somewhere new. 
This wasn’t a place you’d ever been before. The barely-there sounds of birds chirping in trees within a forest that guarded you, on all sides, reverberated off the walls of your mind. The sounds, the breeze– they helped you find your footing. And suddenly, your feet were bare against the partially warm, partially cool feeling of damp dirt. Rain had recently come to this place. You could smell the rain. But every crevice of your mind knew it wasn’t raining anymore. No, you knew that the moment you opened your eyes, you’d find a light, clear blue sky, maybe a couple wisps of clouds painting against the beautifully blank canvas of azure. But you weren’t opening your eyes yet. You focused on everything else taking shape around you. 
The paddles continued to transfer varying speeds between your palms, but it was the last thing on your mind. They were the guide that you knew to follow, but didn’t have to concentrate on. 
Your nose tuned in to the smell of flowers around you. . . All kinds, but there was a particular plant infiltrating your mind the most. . . Though, you knew you wouldn’t be able to place it until you opened your eyes. It was strange because you knew the smell, but your lack of sight was keeping the name of the flower hidden. 
Other things were hidden with your eyes still closed, but you kind of enjoyed the blank space. 
This season. . . the most wonderful tiny person was bound to grace the world in this season. Spring. It was springtime. You knew that much. Once your mind realized the season you were placed in, your eyes opened a little more to the scene around you. 
Lavender. An entire field of the wonderfully fragrant plant, surrounding you with its calming notes. And it was beautiful. Never in your whole life had you been in such a beautiful space, yet your mind had no problem creating it for you. 
“Tell me what you see, but keep your eyes closed for me,” you heard Gia’s voice, although it sounded a hundred miles away. It was hushed, distant, like you were hearing her through a tunnel–only an echo in your mind. It was strange. Your physical form was still seated on the comfy couch, but you were standing amongst the most lovely sea of lavender. 
“I’m. . .I’m not really sure where I am,” you whispered, feeling like raising your voice would disturb the serenity of this place you’d stumbled upon. “I’ve never been here before. It’s–it’s incredible.”
Much like Gia’s, your own voice felt muted in your head. But, unlike her, you were standing in the middle of a narrow tunnel, whereas she was at the end. You were traveling somewhere. Obviously.
“That’s okay,” she tells you. You suddenly felt the paddles quicken ever so gently in their pace, but they felt good. Comforting. Real. “Just tell me everything you’re seeing right now.”
“Lavender. . .A field of lavender. A forest surrounding me. Blue sky. . .,” You couldn’t feel much of saying the word lavender. “So much of it. I could just lay in it, let it surround me.” 
“So you’re outside– good. What else do you see? Is there any wildlife?” The echo of her voice became even more distant as you began walking around, searching for whatever else was there with you. 
Deer. A whole family across the field, taking nourishment from the flowers and emerald green grass. They weren’t like normal deer, though. They didn’t run from you as you approached them. They weren’t scared, they just existed peacefully within this place. Then, you heard the birds begin chirping again, as if on queue. 
“Birds are singing. . . There are deer,” you felt yourself telling her, still in amazement with your next words. “They’re really beautiful. And they’re not afraid of me. . .? I can almost touch them.” 
This was entirely unreal, yet all too real all at once. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever believe your mind was capable of this. Yet, there you were, witnessing the most alluring scene that you were sure didn’t physically exist anywhere on earth. Only in your mind. Safely in your mind. No one could destroy it, no one could infiltrate it. It was all yours.
“That sounds wonderful, y/n. Let's focus on a few other senses. Tell me what you smell,” Gia’s sweet voice sounded as if it was coming from the sky, from the wind. It was all around you, yet so far away. 
You felt your present body take a deep breath through your nose, trying to get the best whiff you could of everything surrounding your psyche. 
“I smell the lavender. It’s overwhelming, but in the best way. God it. . .It smells so good. So. . . Fresh. It’s newly bloomed. And I can smell rain. It’s not raining now but it was.”
“Good,” Gia softy said. “What can you touch? Tell me what it feels like.” 
You reached down to run your fingers over a spray of the dark violet flowers, their scent became even more powerful as you lightly ruffled them. 
“I’m touching the lavender,” you told her. “The buds are so soft, so light to touch. They feel delicate, but I know they won’t break. They’re sturdy. But they aren’t stiff.” 
Aside from the way they felt against your hands, they also emitted a feeling of pure peace. Of tranquility. A good, clean energy unlike anything you’d ever felt. 
“I can almost feel them too, y/n.” You heard her giggle quietly across the field. “What are you  doing? Are you standing, sitting?”
You then felt the urge to lie down. So, you did. Your body felt weightless in your mind as you let yourself fall backward, landing softly amidst the blooms. It felt like the most comfortable bed you’d ever laid in. But before you answered her, you felt your hands within your mind reach down to your tummy. You had to know if your sweet baby was there with you. 
And as you laid your palm gently over your tiny bump, you felt it. Your baby was with you, safely tucked away in the most calm place you’d ever known. It only made sense that your physical form of comfort found its way to your mental one, too. Feeling your bump here made you feel. . .complete. Although, there was still something missing. You didn’t know what, but you felt it. But at that moment, your baby was all you needed. 
Or so you thought. 
Because when you let yourself sit up from where you’d laid in the magnificent, flourishing field of flowers, you finally felt complete because the last person you needed had arrived. 
He was standing across from you, on the opposite side of the field. His long, wavy chestnut locks, flowing just the slightest bit in the breeze of the dreamy spring day. He wore a blue suit. A dark blue, three-piece suit with a dark blue shirt underneath it all to match. 
He was so handsome. Beyond stunning. The most immaculately created person. . .
He didn’t stay there for long before he was making his way toward you, striding as he naturally did. His walk, so smooth and sexy–always. 
As he came closer, you were learning that, in this realm, time moved just a tad bit different than normal. He seemed to make it over to you in less than a minute, even from the other end of the expansive field of light purple. 
Then, he was right beside you, lying down next to where you still sat next to him. He’d placed his left arm behind his head, to balance and lift himself a little. And, his left arm, spread out, ready for you to lay beside him. Lay with him. 
He didn’t say anything, but you knew that was what he wanted. You’d laid this way with him a million times before.
So, you moved to lay with him in a way that felt like coming home. You laid back, so comfortably relaxing your tired muscles as you placed a hand on his chest, and one side of your face against it. Curling your body into his, you laid one leg over his, your body facing toward him. Your bump was pressed snugly and safely against the side of his abdomen. Safe. 
Everything was safe here. Truly was the safest place your mind could conjure. You felt his steady breaths against the top of your head as you looked out past him, to the side of the field. Where the birds still chirped in the trees and the deer still meandered. 
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice equal with the breeze–quiet, calm. His breaths hit your head with each word, he was so near. . . but his words also echoed amongst the trees, all around you. 
Then, it was Gia’s voice you heard whisper through the trees. 
“You’ve found it, haven’t you? Your safe place,” she questioned knowingly, her tone lilted with excitement for you. 
Had you? 
Before you could consider it any longer, his hand came up to rest against your head, brushing so delicately through your loose strands of hair. Your body hummed, feeling one with the wind as he held you. Protected you. Stayed with you. Your body was telling you your answer in your curated fantasy, communicating it to your concrete form as you uttered it aloud.
“Yes,” you sighed, your body on the couch and still in Jake’s arms. You were vividly existing in your imagination and in reality all at once. This feeling would take some getting used to. While you were in shock, you were also not shocked at all. “Y-yes, I’ve found it.”
Jake . . . was he–? 
The lavender was glorious and the field you laid in, the soft ground, was better than any bed you’d ever graced. . . The deer were exquisite and lovely. The song of the birds, sounding like mystical, heavenly hymns. . . The sound of the trees brushing together in the warm breeze of the cool spring day, making their own music, and better than any white noise you’d ever experienced.
But Jake. . . None of those things even came close to the way you felt in his arms. The way you felt light as air and at ease the moment he’d graced your presence. You’d felt your peace and the baby’s when he’d graced the scene. Still did, as you melted into him, his breaths, his heartbeat, helping you feel free and firmly planted, one with all living things–all at once. There was no question that it was him. 
Jake was your safe place.
-🌼🌼🌼-
“Now, I want you to make sure you’re finding quiet time to locate your safe place,” Gia advised, getting up from her rolling chair as soon as you’d risen from the couch. “It’s essential to practice before the sessions. You want it to be an easy place to locate during the really hard resurgence of memories,” she coached you, pushing her chair to her desk. 
“Got it,” you agreed, head still swimming a little as you steadily came back to reality. The prospect of traveling to that place in your spare time was a little intimidating. . . But also very exciting. 
Seeing Jake so vividly in such a serene atmosphere on a regular basis sounded like paradise. You could definitely find time to practice that. 
“If you’re not opposed, I would maybe find someone to drive you to your sessions,” Gia suggested, going to clean the paddles with a spray and microfiber towel. You tuned back in, alertness settling in. “These sessions,” she made eye contact with you after bending over to grab her tube of Clorox wipes. “They are bound to be–no, they will be incredibly intense,” she used a towel she’d retrieved from the container to wipe it down. “Just someone you can trust to be there for you afterwards. . . so you’re not alone when you’re coming down from these memories that will present themselves again.”
Still smelling hints of lavender and feeling the warmth of a chest beneath you in some other heavenly reality, you knew who you’d pick. Was it a crazy idea? What did Gia think? Would she tell you her opinion or would you be forced to figure this out on your own? You didn’t want to seem crazy . . . . or weird.
You had just found your voice to respond when she started speaking again.
“Who do you think would be the best–?”
“I actually have an idea of who–.”
The way your chest bubbled with laughter alongside her was wonderful. It felt like the most genuine giggle you’d ever exuded. You truly felt like you were in a sphere of incomparable serenity. The way your body felt. . . you felt complete. You felt self-assured. Still smiling, you raised a brow and motioned one hand to emphasize that she should continue with her train of thought. Your other hand safely held your belly, right where your baby was resting in its safe cocoon. 
“You might not like it,” she grinned. 
Instantly, you knew who she was talking about. 
Gia sighed, settling the paddles securely back in their zipped black bag. Her eyes found yours, testing the waters. Then she offered her opinion in a firm tone, “Jake would be ideal. He would be my option,” she winked, encouraging.
Your chest exhaled in relief. You weren’t crazy. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
Gia had sensed your unsureness as she walked you to the front desk. She was taller than you with a sort of swagger in her trendy set of corduroy overalls. 
Nerves were wracking you, sweat already pricking in your armpits. You’d voiced your concerns to her in her office to which she’d told you to follow her.So, you had.
And when you made it to the front ‘desk’ (a tall counter with a window in front of it), you linked your hands under your belly with a sigh. Gia stopped at the counter and leaned on the heavy, light gray granite–opposite of where you stood on your way to the door. She leveled you with a stare, her fingers tapping against the expensive granite. 
“I’m just going to tell you this,” she sighed, a tiny little grin on her full lips. “Be confident. Have confidence. You can do it. Just try it out. Seriously. All you have to do is give it a try. I see it in you, y/n,” she firmly stated. Then, she got even more serious with a furrow in her dark brown brow. “Let. Him. Care, y/n. Don’t you dare work to control him just because you feel like you don’t deserve it.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
So, when you got home, you somehow found it in you to take Gia’s advice . . . and you immediately went to talk to Jake. The more you contemplated it on the drive home, you realized you weren’t really too nervous to ask him anymore. . .
The nerves had dissipated little by little as you’d rehashed your time in your safe place. How seamless things had been there. . . it felt like before. Like normal. . . and even though it wasn’t your normal anymore, you were clinging to it. It was giving you courage. And the fact that Jake was literally your safe place was giving you courage. 
Yeah, he made you nervous because he was Jake, but he also eased you so effortlessly because he was Jake. He was safe. 
He wasn’t perfect, no. But, he was someone who was permanently, preciously ingrained in your heart. Today had officially proved that. And you were carrying the sweetest little piece of him. . . that helped the nerves for sure. There was a piece of him that was always with you. And now that he knew about said precious baby, things genuinely seemed to be normal between the two of you again. . . as normal as could be at the current time.
It had you knocking on his bedroom door. 
It dawned on you as you delivered the knock that you hadn’t even thought of checking his parking space to see if he was home.  You’d been too anxious to see him and ask him what you had been encouraged to ask. . . .Before you lost the magic courage. Because, yes, let’s be real, he still made you nervous as hell. He was Jake.
It was all confusing and weird. As you stood there, waiting for longer than you’d planned, you realized he might not even be home. You could be standing here waiting for nothing. Or worse, Maya was in there with him or some shit and you were going to open the door to–.
Jake.
The door had opened to show a very sleepy, very effortlessly handsome Jake. His hair was all tousled like he’d been in a deep slumber. And when you looked past him, his bed was a mess from a nap. . .but no curvy, beautiful woman occupied it. 
The only thing you saw laying in the bed was a book, right next to the fluffed pillow where his head had been resting. It was open, laying face down with several sticky notes peeking out of the pages. And all that you could make out was a picture of a pregnant woman on the cover and the word ‘Expecting’ on the cover before your attention was brought back to him talking.
“Y/n?. . . You okay?” He was talking, voice patient and calm, but sounding as though he’d said the words a time or two before you’d come back to. 
You were quick to cover your ass to hide that you had been spying in his room. 
“Sorry,” you shook your head, looking down and clasping your hands under your tummy subconsciously. His eyes followed your hands, a little smile forming on his lips. You continued, “I just wanted to ask you something.”
His eyes opened, as if waiting for what you wanted to ask. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “What’s that?”
You cleared your throat, suddenly a little nervous, but suddenly worked to picture him in the field of lavender. And then you were okay again. He was Jake. He was safe. “I–,” you glanced down, then back up to his kind, tired eyes. Just say it, y/n. “Would you mind going to a few of my therapy appointments with me?”
“Yes,” he replied, without any hesitation whatsoever. “Of course. Special ones or. . .?”
“All of them,” you blurted, needing to clear it up. Honesty. Just be honest. Don’t fear his reaction. He’s Jake. 
Eyebrows wrinkled, his lip quirked. “All of them. . .? Like, all of the special ones or–?”
“All of the appointments. Any of the appointments I have that you can make it to. I just need someone safe to go with me,” you rushed out. 
He blinked a few times, a gentle shake of his head before his eyes got sincere and a smile spread over his pretty lips. “And you chose me?”
“Yes,” you simply answered, not trusting yourself to say anything more. There was a definite part of you still reeling from today’s session and seeing him when you imagined somewhere safe. 
Standing there for a few seconds, you could tell he had a million questions floating through his mind. And, knowing him, you knew he was probably wondering why you hadn’t chosen Josh. And, to be totally truthful, you hadn’t once thought of Josh at the prospect of someone safe being there with you to see you through after the sessions. 
Jake seemed to be the only valid option. The only person you wanted to go with you. Even if Elsie were still living here, totally accessible and available, you knew Jake still would’ve been your first choice. The therapy had been his idea. He had asked you how it was going. He was someone you trusted to talk to, and he was someone invested in this with you. And he was him.
“I’d love that,” he responded softly. “When are the appointments?”
He’d love it? Your heart was thumping in your chest at the words. Absently, you thought of your poor heart monitor, and how it was going to be picking up some crazy data due to this man. 
“Every Monday,” you quietly responded. Then, you thought, before getting your hopes up, you’d better tell him what he was really in for. . . because he might end up eating his words once he found out his job in it all. “You’ll just have to wait for me. You could run an errand or two or whatever while I’m in my hour-long sessions. . . and sometimes they might go over.” He nodded, seeming fine with that. You were shocked. Didn’t know why you were shocked because he was naturally so thoughtful. You knew this. “And then, you’ll have to be there afterwards. And I might be emotional. This form of therapy is intense,” you explained. Then, you thought . . . “Well, you probably already know that because you. . .”
“Found it,” he finished, eyes twinkling. “I’d still love to go. You’re not going to scare me away from it. I know you’re afraid of that.”
Why the fuck did he even care to read you like a damned book? Surely your thought processes didn’t matter that much to him. But, you remembered his voice, reassuring you after Applebee’s. Cleaning up some toxic thoughts you’d let form.
“. . .I didn’t stop caring about you . . .” 
“. . .Just because I’m not talking to you or falling asleep next to you . . . It doesn’t mean I don’t still want what’s best for you. Hence why I’m the one who initiated the therapy conversation. I kept my end of the deal and researched for you because I care.”
Then, it was Gia’s voice. What she’d told you that day. . .just before you’d left.
“Let him care, y/n. Don’t work to control him just because you feel like you don’t deserve it.”
Let him care. 
You decided to just continue on with the only reasonable response, eyes, filling with tears, trained on your fidgeting feet. “Thank you,” the words came out as a whisper. But you shook your head. Confidence. Looking up, you tried again, smiling with your eyes. “Thank you.”
His eyes held yours for a moment. He just let his eyes sink into yours. . .like he’d done so many times before. Just as he had in times past, he was letting himself read you. You could tell. 
Not able to help it, your cheeks filled with heat at his stare. Your heart picked up speed. You had to speak again. Break the quietness. The calmness in his observant, knowing irises was too much.  
“Will Maya be okay with it?” 
Why you chose to break the ice with her, you didn’t know. Probably to get his mind off of you and back on her. Where you knew he wanted it to be. He might have still cared for you, but she was the woman he loved. To him, you were sure that she mattered in this just as much as you did.
He shut his eyes once briefly, and with a shake of his head, he was back. His eyebrows dipped, pursed his lips with a curt nod. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure,” he assured. He tightened his fingers against his biceps. You couldn’t help but watch his strong hand flex. “I’ll–um, I’ll just tell her when the appointments are so she knows I’m not available on those days.”
Shit. You didn’t want to take him away from her. You hadn’t even thought of that. That would definitely be selfish. And not available on those days? Like, not available at all? Was he planning on spending entire Mondays with you?
Hurriedly, you offered a response to make sure to clear the air. “Oh my god. I didn’t even think of you having to–,” you groaned. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t go with me if it’s going to interrupt your plans with her.”
His brows wrinkled. “I never said that.”
“It was implied,” you defended your thought process. 
“No, it wasn’t.”
You were suddenly irritated that he wasn’t understanding why you felt bad. “I just don’t want to be selfish, Jake. That’s all I’m saying. God.”
He rolled his eyes, hands getting stuffed in the pockets of the sweatpants he was wearing. You just realized how low they hung on his hips. You could see the very bottom of his stomach with the way he’d cut his t-shirt, just above the hip bones. You flicked your eyes back to his face when he spoke again. And, again, your face was hot. 
“I was literally saying I want to be there for you and I need to tell her that’s what I’m doing on those days,” he explained, tone sharp and patient all at once. He was putting his foot down.
You conceded. But. . . it made you think of something. Maybe it was the tan stomach of his skin and how badly you wanted to run your fingers across it. Or perhaps it was the fact that the woman in question might not be privy to one important detail. 
So, you asked. “Does she know I’m pregnant with your baby yet?”
His baby. 
You ignored the thought, instead training your mind on the serious matter at hand: would she be okay with it if she knew you were pregnant with his baby?
“No,” he curtly replied. Then, his tone was entirely calm when he stated, “She won’t know until you give me the okay to tell her. I told you that already.”
Flushing, you found his eyes. You tried your best to match the sincerity in his irises with your own. “Thank you for being considerate of that.”
“Of course,” his lips twitched to a small grin, then fell back to a purse. He chewed the inside of his cheek.
Fuck. You needed to wrap this up. You were wasting his time. But–you had to know. . . 
You cleared your throat, replacing your hands from below your tummy to cross under your boobs. The way his eyes flickered down with the action couldn’t be ignored and it gave you the push to ask. “. . .what does she know about us?”
“She knows you’re my friend and that we’re close because we live together,” he offered.
For some reason, the fact that he’d called you his friend made your heart leap into the bottom of your throat. It made you sort of sad, yet happy at the same time. Sad that you couldn’t be more, but glad that he was willing to call you such a wonderful thing. Did he seriously trust you to be his friend?
“We’re friends?” You shyly pondered. 
Aaand hormones were officially in control of your dialogue. It was time to wrap it up. Quick. You eyed the ground, embarrassed at your lack of control over questions.
But, his response was measured, so sweetly assuring you with his next words. His voice was soft and raspy, “I never wanted to not be your friend.” Then, suddenly, he was touching you. His hand was placed on your cheek, lifting your face gently to look into his eyes. There was no saving the response on the heart monitor data. And the swarm of buzzing butterflies in your tummy. You lost yourself in his gaze. “No matter what happens, you are my friend. I always want to be your friend, honey.” 
Honey. 
Your pulse increased tenfold and you couldn’t help the flutter of your lashes, your eyes watery yet again. 
His hand was still on your cheek, and a warm blush had settled in them when you mumbled, ashamed. “I hate you ditching your girlfriend for me. I don’t want to be selfish.”
A finger smoothed gently on your cheek, just beneath your lashes. “You’re not being selfish. And I’m not ditching her,” he removed his hand, and your heart sputtered a few times, trying to balance all of the emotions transpiring within you. He reached behind him, grabbing the handle of the door and shutting it behind him. When he moved forward with the motion, you stepped back. Didn’t want to risk getting too close. His eyes found yours as he consoled you. “Please quit thinking of it like that. I promised to be there–to help you–you a long time ago, and I intend to keep that promise. Let me.”
You were back in the hallway at your grandparents’ home. He was coming to sit next to you, against their beige, textured walls. The house, smelling like the pie that was baking. Familiar and safe. But the home had been the last thing making you feel safe in that moment. It was the man sitting next to you, telling you to let him help you.
“I want to help you. Let me.”
The same night he’d made the promise to find a therapist for you. Then, you were in his bed that night. . .Your cheek, on his damp chest.
 Tears were falling on his chest, your chest was tight as they kept coming, his skin prickling in their wake. “I–I’m sor–sorry.”
“Why, baby?” His voice settled your nerves. Warm. Soft. Him. 
“I hate that you have to see me cry,” you sniffled, wiping at the tears on his chest. But instead of letting you continue, he’d held your hand there, so you could feel the stable beat of his heart. 
“If crying is what it takes to heal, I’m here to listen to you as you wade through it.”
And, then, again. . . those same words filtered through your memory through a warm haze. 
Laying on top of him, in his bed, as you’d stared deeply into the darkness of his eyes, he’d earnestly spoken to you. “I want to help you. Let me.”
“Okay,” you sighed in the present time, your eyes not containing the pools accumulating in them, a singular tear falling down your cheek. 
Thankfully, it happened when he had decided to go back into his room to get something. And as soon as you’d brushed it away, he was back in front of you and had his phone in his hand. It was open, his fingers above the keyboard to show he was about to start typing. 
“What do you want me to tell her you need me for?” He looked up at you, hands steady around the phone as his eyes waited for you. His eyes, open and willing to help. Willing to understand. “I don’t have to tell her that it’s for therapy.”
“You can tell her it’s for therapy,” you responded. His brow raised, as if to ask ‘you sure?’, to which you responded, “I’m sure,” you grinned. Then, you continued on with what would be a valid excuse to give her for why you wanted him to go. “Just tell her you have to drive me to the appointments I have on those days because it’s a long drive that I don’t want to take by myself.”
His lips lifted easily, eyes tired, still, but wholly there with you to help. “Okay.”
As he typed, you stood there–so grateful for him. God, he was amazing. You could not believe there was ever a time you’d thought any different. Jake Kiszka. . . he was the man of fucking dreams. You knew he was. And you’d. . . let him go.
But, as you still believed, it was for good reason that you’d cut things off.
It kept lines drawn and clear and simple. Kept him focused on the dream. It just helped. Right?
Once he’d shoved the phone in his pocket and you’d heard the sending noise and the click of the phone going off, you decided to go ahead and let him be. You began walking to your room, and he started walking in the direction of the front of the apartment. Just as you’d opened your door, suddenly very sleepy and sore from your body growing a human, you spoke again. “Thank you, Jake.”
He turned as soon as you’d spoken, his gaze calm and falling on yours gently. His eyes felt like the breeze on a warm, spring day. The same sort of day you’d imagined in your safe place. 
“Don’t thank me,” he started. His phone chimed in his pocket, but he didn’t even reach for it. Instead, he crossed to you once more, your chest heating at him coming close again. And, once more, his hand reached up to delicately hold your face. The callouses that grazed your cheek brought so much comfort. They were familiar and felt like peace. “This is something I want to do. You don’t have to thank me.” 
Your mouth opened to dispute and as soon as you did, he saw it. 
At this, his lips lifted and he held your cheek fully in his palm, eyes boring into yours as he spoke. “Don’t argue with me. I mean every word. And you know it.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
Life was finally feeling peaceful again with Jake back in it, and in the know about the baby. Having him as a friend in your life was filling your cup – just the mere knowledge of him being there made you rest easier. Every morning was the same. A comfortable, reassuring sort of same. 
You’d wake up, and lay in your bed for a few minutes, rubbing your belly. Checking the Ovia app to read something new about the baby to start the day, you’d also check the size of the baby on that given week for the 100th time on that given week. After clicking your phone off, you would lay there and ponder your day and everything that you had to do. 
And once your feet touched the ground, you were walking to grab underwear, a maternity bra (because, yes, you’d purchased one with the speed your boobs had grown). Then came the outfit you’d set out the night before. (Even though sometimes, there would be a last minute change in wardrobe due to day-to-day changes in your body – the insecurities were slowly becoming very real, the more your body changed. And even the teeniest, tiniest changes were strikingly obvious to you.) 
The bathroom was your next stop. You’d take off the heart monitor before your shower, brush your teeth, and in the shower, you would glance down at your belly, water washing over it, to reflect on the person inside of it and how he or she was growing. And these days, you spent a lot of time wondering if the baby was a he or she. . . Just as you’d lean towards one guess, you’d lean towards the other. On certain days, you would wash your hair and if it hadn’t been very long, you’d skip that step. 
Once finished with the shower, you’d observe yourself to see if any stretch marks had grown, and at this point, a few had shown up, so a special cream was one the way that would be added to your morning and nightly routine to help prevent those from sticking around. Now, all you did was brush your hair and usually put it in a claw clip to avoid sweating profusely by keeping it against your neck. Then, you’d replace the adhesive of your heart monitor and adjust it to track your heart rate. 
You were so ready to be done with the stupid fucking device. It was a pain for many reasons. . . and you just hated the way it looked on your chest. It was a huge blemish on your changing body. A body that you were already feeling insecure enough about, even without the monitor.
When you’d trail back to your bedroom after your shower, you finished out the routine by taking your prenatals, checking your hemoglobin (which was doing consistently well, relieving you every time you saw the numbers stay positive), and you would pop a PregEase into your mouth to chew. The chewable had helped drastically with your nausea, and you weren’t planning on stopping it any time soon.
Finally, you’d go to the kitchen counter after making a smoothie in your BlendJet, and sit there to sip it as you read through The Panic-Free Pregnancy, taking notes in a notebook you’d purchased solely for baby notes.
And, now, since Jake had found out, he’d greet you in the kitchen or on your way to the bathroom to shower and he’d check on the baby. Check on how you were feeling. It always made you blush with the fact that he cared to check in. It was just really fucking sweet of him. Showed his heart. Of course, it wasn’t for you, it was for the baby. But still. . . it made your heart skip a beat. 
The day before Thanksgiving was no different. Except, this morning, Jake stopped you just as you’d grabbed your backpack and opened the door to leave for school. 
“Hey,” he called out to you. Your phone buzzed in your black LuluLemon, slung across your chest. When you turned, he flashed his phone screen towards you briefly. “Josh just texted in the group chat and asked if it was okay for us to have Friendsgiving here like you usually do. Day after Thanksgiving. Want me to tell him it’s fine?”
“Of course,” you grinned, getting your phone out to see the text for yourself. But, as you did, you also saw you were cutting it close to make it to class on time. Grabbing your keys out of your bag, you quickly responded, opening the door wider, one foot out. “Just tell him yes.”
He began typing as you went to walk out, the Jetta gave its signature beep across the parking lot as you unlocked it. But just as you stepped out, you stopped. Fuck. You’d have to clean the place. 
Normally, it would be no big deal, but you were still working long hours and keeping up with several classes while also being pregnant. . . 
So, you stepped back into the apartment, hand still holding the door open. You glanced up at him, accepting your fate. “I'll probably be cleaning the apartment tonight. I don’t want to have to fight any real baby tiredness on top of any food baby tiredness tomorrow night. I already get sleepy at the end of Thanksgiving Day, and I’m sure it’ll just be worse this year with,” you pointed to your belly. 
His eyes twinkled, but he didn’t say anything. . .probably because you were rambling and he was annoyed by it.
You twisted the knob, needing to leave, but wanting to let him know, “You can find something to do tonight so you don’t have to be around me and my obsessive compulsive cleaning habits.” 
He raised a brow, placing his phone on the counter. “Would it be okay if I helped you clean?”
“Um,” you faltered, nervous of him seeing that cringeworthy side of you. “I get really intense when I clean for special events.”
“I’m sure,” he grinned, winking. Your tummy swarmed with butterflies at the gesture. He continued, “But I still want to help you. Will you let me?”
Let him.
“I get kind of scary.”
“I don’t care.”
You measured him with your eyes, contemplating. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t love his help. . . It would be fantastic to have someone help you. You just didn’t want to scare him away. 
You’re having his baby, y/n. Did you scare him away when he found out about that? Or did he want to help you then, too? And what about when he–?
“Sure,” you said, promptly cutting off the voice in your head. “You can help. I’m just warning you. My control issues are bound to go haywire when I deep clean.”
“For good reason,” he defended. “In that circumstance.”
Your lips raising into a soft smile couldn’t be stopped. “Thanks, Jake.”
The soft smile didn’t leave your face as you made the trek to your car. 
Then it all came crashing down when you passed Maya in all of her graceful, voluptuous beauty, right before you got to your car. Your outfit of a giant sweater and loose AE jeans suddenly paled in comparison to her sexy black pencil skirt and tight white button-up shirt. Her perfume, sweet and expensive, wafting off of her in waves as she passed by you with a smile and a quick wave. Then there was you: wearing your Bath and Body Works body spray that you got on sale for $5.95.
Her heels clicked past you as your old white Nikes caught a rock and almost made you trip, eliciting a weird noise from your mouth. Hand on the belly, you caught yourself – not so gracefully. When you looked behind you to see if she’d witnessed it, she was already knocking on the door of the apartment. . .and being greeted with a kiss from Jake. The smile was absolutely wiped off your face at the sight of that.
Of course, your mind traveled to a not-so-fun place as you buckled into your car and went to turn on your soul music playlist. You just sat there, contemplating once more how much it sucked that you couldn’t be with him. It was even more sad with your predicament – it made your heart jump into your throat that you couldn’t complete the natural circle of two parents with a baby.
The song that started off the playlist was perfect for bringing you out of your slump, though. The Commodores singing about being ”High On Sunshine” reminded you of how serene and peaceful you’d felt when you’d woken up. Life was going well. . .Truly, completely well. You didn’t need a relationship with Jake to complete a circle of sorts. . . Really. Especially at this point in your life.
You could be friends – it really wouldn’t be so bad. Just friends. You’d take what you could get. Things would be fine.
-🌼🌼🌼-
“I don’t mind you telling her now,” you mentioned that night, packing up a nice dinner he’d made after you’d cleaned the entire apartment. 
He’d made chicken fajitas. 
Considering the meal was a crowd favorite (the crowd being you and the baby), it had been wonderful when you’d found out tonight how damn good he was at making them. Although, saying that you were packing it up into leftover containers with him. . .was a lie. 
You were leaning against the ledge of the counter top, watching him put it in Tupperware. He’d told you to sit and rest your feet and that he would worry about putting it away. Only agreeing halfway, you sure rested but didn’t rest your feet like he’d asked. After quietly accepting the offer with a quiet okay, you nodded your head. Then, you went to stand against the counter. 
“Please. Sit.” He’d encouraged, his voice slightly impatient, already weary with you. By the look in his eyes, you knew that he knew it was no use and that you weren’t going to agree. “You had to go to school and workwork today. You should rest your feet.”
Even though your feet did hurt like hell, you still weren’t about to let him boss you around. 
“Nah, I think I’m good,” you replied, shrugging. You took turns balancing and bouncing between each foot, totally giving you away. “I sit around too much.”
“Y/n.”
“Jake.”
He’d given you a look. And you had stared right back until he gave up and rolled his eyes before going about his business. 
In the present time, he was once again peering at you. But this time, his eye brow was raised in curiosity. “What?” He asked, unsure.
“You can tell Maya if you want,” you repeated, your eyes encouraging. “Tell her that you’re having a baby,” you laughed under your breath at that. A piece of hair fell from its place behind your ear. “Or, I guess, if we’re being technical. . . That I’m having your baby.”
He didn’t laugh along with the funny wording, just continued looking at you like you’d grown three heads. 
“Why?”
You didn’t know. All you knew was that Maya wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. So, in order to save Jake some extra stress, he’d better tell her sooner rather than later. That was it. 
“Just want it to be out in the open,” you stated plainly, shrugging once more. “Josh is going to tell Sam and Daniel for me soon. . . Explain all of the nitty gritty details of us so I don’t have to again.”
His face sank momentarily. Though, it didn’t last long enough for you to be sure if it wasn’t something you’d imagined.
“On top of that, I’m telling my grandparents tomorrow, so you just go ahead and tell her,” you explained further, trying to convince him it was okay.
He blinked a few times, probably processing it all. And then he responded.
“Okay,” he finally said, lips making a lopsided grin, eyes still containing a sense of curiosity.
“Okay,” you echoed, suddenly feeling the reality of him telling her. . . the reality of Josh telling Sammy and Danny. . .
It was about to be out in the open. Everyone was about to know. Not counting the doctors or Gia, a tiny total of four people in your life knew. Only four. You, Elsie, Josh, and Jake. And now, that number was about to increase. And with your permission, no less. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
November 24, 2022
You were on your way to your grandparents’ house, Elsie being your chauffeur when you filled her in on all of the therapy appointments (though, not the person secured in your safe place), your heart monitor in all of its ridiculous, agonizing glory.
Then, the boys’ careers came up in conversation. The music. The albums. The photoshoots. You even told her about the fan who called Jake hot. And as she was laughing about the fan interaction, and how uncomfy she was sure it made you, you thought to text Jake something that needed to be said. Something you’d believed in with your whole heart since the beginning. His career. 
It was even more important to you now that you were going to have his baby. It had trailed through your mind enough times that you knew you needed to share it with him. 
You, 12:02 p.m.: Please don’t put your career on hold for me or the baby.
It took a few moments, when Elsie was in the middle of telling you that she wasn’t sure how she felt about other girls calling Josh hot. You were absently agreeing on not being sure about it when you got the notification of his response.
Jake, 12:05 p.m.: I won’t. I’ll figure it out. 
And while you were in the middle of having one hard conversation, you decided on another. Something that broke your heart to say, but you believed in it just like you did the other topic. It was going to be awkward to talk about in person, so you were going to be a coward and hide behind the phone to say it.
You, 12:06 p.m.: We also don’t need to be in a relationship.
After sending it, you instantly realized the perspiration that had gathered on your palms. Instead of talking to Elsie, you just stared at your phone. After finding out, he’d turned his read receipts on, so you were able to see the moment he’d seen the message. 
While cleaning the night before, you’d asked him about it and his response was that he had done it so there weren’t any holes in your communication about baby-related things.
Jake, 12:08 p.m.: Never said we did. I don’t need that.
I don’t need that.
Translated, you knew it was a way of saying it would cause unnecessary stress. And you’d be remiss to ignore that the stress would most definitely result from you and your stupid emotional instability. And that thought just reminded you that the baby was the most important person to work on being emotionally stable for–not its father. 
Nonetheless, his response hurt way more than it should have. It cut fucking deep. For no reason whatsoever, because you knew he had a point. You believed the same as he did. Your previous text said as much. You just had to think logically. 
Jake, 12:09 p.m.: 1, I’m already in a relationship
Jake, 12:09 p.m.: and 2, it’ll be easier for us because we won’t have to worry about a relationship. It’s good that we’re just friends.
He was right. He made sense. You knew it. It was good to be just friends.
You, 12:10 p.m.: You are very right. I’m glad we’re on the same page.
Jake, 12:10 p.m.: and as far as touring and the band goes, we can figure out how to handle a baby in all of it. We’ll just work in a few more breaks or something
Jake, 12:11 p.m.: don’t worry about that. We’ll be fine. 
Jake, 12:11 p.m.: and by “we” I mean you, me and the baby
Right as you’d pulled up to your grandparents’ home, you sent him a final text about it. If you were being totally honest, the conversation made you feel sick to your stomach and you just wanted to focus on the fact that it was Thanksgiving. 
There was also the fact that you were more than just a little nervous about rocking your grandparents’ entire world. 
You, 12:22 p.m.: Thank you for talking to me about this. We can talk about it more at some other point. Have a good Thanksgiving!
Instantly, he read it. But it took him a bit to respond. You knew he was busy with family and Maya. And again, your stomach was knotted at another thought. Her. Them. Dream couple.
Jake, 12:25 p.m.: for sure. We’ll find time :) 
Jake, 12:25 p.m.: happy thanksgiving, y/n. I’m thankful for you. I really hope you know that.
With that last text, your heart sped up, your monitor phone beeping repeatedly in your belt bag to notify you of it. As if you couldn’t already feel the way your heart was about to literally beat out of your chest at his words. You grumpily unzipped your bag to get it out, locking your phone on your lap.
“Holy shit, dude,” Elsie exclaimed as she shut off the car. “Are you okay?! What’s happening?!”
You reassured her that it was just your monitor telling you your heart rate had gone up. But you made an excuse for why. Didn’t want her on your ass.
“I’m just really nervous to tell Grandma and Grandpa,” you lied.
You didn’t have to wait long for it to stop beeping. Thank God. It was annoying as hell, calling you out when you did not want to be called out. Finally, it turned off, though.
Elsie’s eyes became sympathetic, her delicate hand coming out to squeeze your sweater-clad arm. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be there the whole time. Deep breaths,” she calmly assured, taking a few with you. “And they’ll honestly just be really excited. Grandma, immediately. . . but Grandpa. . .”
“. . .Might take him a while,” you finished.
Your Grandma wasn’t necessarily your greatest worry, but she had been known to judge a time or two. . . Your Grandpa on the other hand. . . he was in a constant state of disappointment. All in all, you really had no fucking clue what to expect. Within seconds, the two of you were busting up at the thought. He was a pain in the ass. The definition of a crotchety old man. Laughing with Elsie was therapeutic. And this laughter in particular was incredibly necessary.
She waited for you to feel calm enough to go inside, and once you did, you got out to follow Elsie to the door. You never responded to the text. Didn’t even react to it with an exclamation, thumb, or heart. You didn’t want to mess anything up. 
So, you just let it be your last positive push before going inside your grandparents’. Because, while it hadn’t been the reason to make your monitor go batshit crazy, it was still incredibly nerve wracking to tell the people that raised you. The idea of telling them that you were pregnant by a man you weren’t in a relationship with. . . yeah.
You closed your eyes momentarily to locate your Safe Place. You’d gotten quite good at finding it. All you had to do was close your eyes and call it. But as Elsie unlocked the door to let the two of you in, the present time was unkindly welcoming you back in with anxious arms. 
Deep. Fucking. Breaths.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Thanksgiving was one of your favorite holidays. Christmas was your absolute favorite, but Thanksgiving was right up there, just behind it. 
For one, it meant your whole family got to be together for a holiday, and you loved getting to spend time with your family. It felt more special than just about anything else. . . and Thanksgiving was so great because it was just a day where you sat around, eating food, being with each other, talking and laughing. It was a holiday meant to force you to ruminate on why you were thankful for each other– a holiday that was designed to bring out the best in a person.
The hope that your grandparents would only have love in their hearts when they heard your news was the only thing that had pulled you and your nerves through the doorway. The same doorway you’d entered through a million and one times before. Except this time, someone else was entering with you. Your hand touched subconsciously to your rounded belly. There was nothing you could do about your predicament now, so you could only hope for the best responses they could muster.
As you walked in, the smell of your Grandma’s ever-famous smoked turkey flooded your senses, momentarily calming you. It reminded you of the main reason Thanksgiving and Christmas were your favorite holidays. They’d been that way for years–as long as you could remember. Her turkey was an absolute favorite of yours dating all the way back to your childhood. Cooking was her love language, and you first learned that before you ever went to live with your grandparents. You could remember loving it and finding solace in the taste of her full, home cooked meal on the rare occasion that your mom decided to celebrate the holidays with her parents. 
The taste and aroma of your Grandmother’s food represented peace for you–especially her holiday food. Holidays were special because they were the only time you were ever able to escape your mother and the now-hazy situations she’d put you in for the first ten years of your life. And then, when you’d gone to live with them, you’d finally found safety and security. . . The taste of her food had just continued its pattern of bringing you the feeling of comfort.
The times your mom would tote you and Elsie over state lines to see them were always very special. They were bittersweet memories for you. It was the only way you’d been able to see your grandparents then, as she never made them privy to your changing living locations. The three of you were always on the move. Never in one place for too long. But every home was dirtier than the last, a new man who would occupy it, as if anxiously anticipating your arrival.
You shook your head at those times–didn’t want to think about it for too long. Those thoughts led down dangerous, terrifying, dark paths that you didn’t want to experience on a day like today. Those times were the ones you’d explore in EMDR with a licensed professional at the ready to help guide you. 
You’d decided years ago that you weren’t going to venture down those paths alone. Didn’t want to bother Elsie, so instead, you’d instead pushed the memories away to near nonexistence. And. . . today was not the day you planned to change that. You wanted Gia with you for that, thank you very much. 
As you walked closer to the kitchen, you heard the sounds of your grandparents’ laughter, sounding so much like you were used to. . . You could only hope and pray to everything that it would continue on as normal—as normal as it could be—after they found out your big news. 
The warm hugs and expressions of joy that greeted you as the two of you rounded the corner were both a reassurance and an added stressor to your shaky nerves. You really didn’t want to shake their world too much. . . Didn’t want this to change. This was your first true home. They were your first people.
The people who took you and your sister in when you had no one else, the ones who raised you, showed you love when it felt your entire world lacked it. You couldn’t quite rid the apprehension to tell them. You would not be able to until the news officially left your mouth. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
“I’m pregnant.”
The sound of forks clinking against plates and the deafening sound of silence surrounded the entire dining room. You weren’t sure where the fuck it had come from–why you’d chosen to say it when you did. . . but there was no doubt it was out now. No questions were asked. Not yet. All eyes in the room, trained on you. Everyone sat still, totally unmoving and in total shock. 
Thankfully, only a few moments of it had to pass before your sister broke the silence. She was trying to buy some peace for you. Just as much as you, she was not a fan of awkward silence or tension.
“I, for one, am so, so excited,” Elsie beamed, looking back and forth between your grandparents, whose mouths were still clamped shut. “It’s going to be wonderful–the sweetest addition to this family!”
After only a few seconds of Elsie’s attempt to ease the air, your Grandma started blinking and you soon realized that she was blinking back tears. Oh no. . . was she upset? Disappointed? The woman who raised you so well – loved you better than anyone ever had before, who took you in when no one else wanted you. . . She didn’t need to sit there feeling any negative emotions only because of your careless decision. Just like she’d done for you, you needed to comfort her in this moment of unclarity. 
You went to rise from your seat, beginning an explanation you weren’t quite sure of yet once you were standing. “Grandma, I–.”
“Babygirl!” Your Grandmother exclaimed, bursting into tears. And before you could make it from where you stood beside your floral padded chair, she was walking to you – as fast as her frail legs could carry her. Even though you watched her every move, the feeling of her arms wrapping around you came before you expected it to. “We couldn’t be happier. I don’t even have to look at your Grandfather to know he’s as ecstatic as me. I know he loves you just like I do,” she sighed, squeezing you gently. Her shaky, familiar voice spoke softly in your ear, “A baby is the greatest gift – especially if it’s one of my babies’ babies.”
You blinked back all of the emotion that nestled comfortably into your bones. The distinct, wistfully familiar notes of Chanel No. 5 wrapped around you as tight as her arms. And, suddenly, the scent had you back in a mirage of memories where she was holding you just the same. 
The first time a boy had broken your heart at thirteen years old. When you fell off your bike the month after you moved in with them, crying more over your mother than the bike wreck. Anytime you and Elsie got into some asinine bickering match that only your Grandmother could settle. . . So many times she’d held you just like this. Except this time, you felt it differently, gripped closer to her, not ready to let go. . . you’d needed this so badly. Hadn’t even realized just how badly you needed to feel her hold you after finding this out. 
You sniffed, finally letting yourself part from her. She wasn’t going to be the first to let go, so you made the move. “Grandma,” you looked directly into her eyes, getting lost in the aging, watery icy blue irises. “Your approval – and Grandpa’s,” you glanced at him briefly, a small smile on his face as he watched you. Your heart leapt. “It meant more to me than anyone else’s.” 
Elsie huffed and made a noise. Your Grandma giggled at Elsie’s indignance. You rolled your eyes, turning to your sister for a split second to give her a look, then faced the aging woman once more. “Almost anyone else’s. I was just scared to let you down, although I. . .,” you paused momentarily, blinking back tears as her perfume infiltrated your senses once more as she pushed some hair delicately behind your ear. “I should have known better than that.”
“My precious babygirl, there is nothing you could ever do that would make us think less of you,” she insisted, bringing her hand down to your arm, softly soothing circles into your flesh through your sweater. “Not only have we told you that your entire life, but I could only hope we have been able to show it to you. Just how much you mean and how we are always on your side – no matter what.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
The rest of the dinner and dessert went on about the same, with your Grandpa actually receiving the news very well–only grumbling slightly at the idea of the father not being around.
To which Elsie had quickly defended with a correction, pointed straight at your Grandfather, her eyes glued to him. “Don’t be so quick to make assumptions, Grandpa.”
You’d joined in, too, not wanting her to have to approach that on her own. It wasn’t her responsibility to have to make any reassurances for your mindless decision. 
“He is in the picture, Grandpa,” you assured, swallowing your bite of pumpkin pie. Your eyes linked with his, begging him to understand. “I never said he wasn’t. I only said that I didn’t want to tell you who he is yet.”
After that, he’d simmered down on the father subject enough for dessert to finish up. And, as Elsie and your Grandma went to put away leftovers, you led the way to the living room to set up A Christmas Story. It was a Thanksgiving tradition to watch it after stuffing your faces to the point of exhaustion. 
Just as you’d gotten the movie queued up, you heard his telling sigh behind you. His years-old maroon, fabric recliner, moaning with the sudden weight of a person. You gave him the slightest smile, still unsure of how to act around him as he’d been supportive, just quiet about it. 
His reaction could definitely be expected, but you didn’t want it. You just wanted him to not act crotchety, just this once. Problem was, you were kind of stuck on what to say. So, instead of saying anything to initiate conversation, you sat on your phone, checking Instagram stories. 
So many fucking coupley photos with the most generic captions. But, to your complete relief, nothing had yet been posted by Jake or Maya (yes, you followed her now–for no other reason but to torture yourself). Just as you were about to check your Ovia app for the second time that day, you heard your Grandpa clear his throat. 
You just acted oblivious, though, not wanting to look up unless he actually wanted to talk. Didn’t want to push him or anything. . . poke the bear. 
“Sugarplum,” he started, using the nickname he’d penned for you years ago. 
Your heart lightened at the nickname. Anytime he used it, you knew he was about to say something sweet and slightly outside of his comfort zone. And by that, it meant he was going to say something particularly tender and sweet. Two things he was not used to being. . . Save for the heart he’d had when he started using the nickname. It had come at a sensitive time. 
The nickname came from a precious tradition. After you’d come to live with them, he’d started the tradition. The man had been determined to make you and your sister feel better, and he’d always been better with actions than words. So, the year your sister and you had come to live with them, he’d started taking you to the Nutcracker. It was a whole thing. 
Every Christmas season, your family of four would get all dolled up (you and Elsie, having had matching Christmas dresses and ringlet curls–hair-sprayed to the point of crunchy– the first couple of years). Then, you’d go eat at Carmine’s before attending a performance of the Nutcracker ballet – always at David H. Koch Theater. 
You weren’t sure what he was about to say, but the nickname always meant it was going to be rather softhearted.
“Sweetie,” he sighed. You looked at him, seeing every wrinkle and age spot on his worn features. His face held every ounce of compassion you were sure he could muster. Your eyes already teary at the cold, snowy memories you’d just re-lived, and seeing him in such a vulnerable state had you gasp just slightly. “I love this baby. I love you. And I am so happy for you–overjoyed,” he said, singing it in the tone of the Stevie Wonder tune. You gasped on another breath, a tear springing from your eye to cheek. “Very, very much so, honey.”
“Really?” You couldn’t help but mutter.
“With all my heart I mean it,” he confirmed, eyes crinkling at the edges with a smile in them. “I only get short-tempered about the father because I don’t want to witness the child being abandoned or betrayed by men the way you and Elsie–,” he shook his head, draining a thought he was in the middle of. He grunted, eyes glassy when he looked at you again. “I don’t need this baby’s father being absent like yours was, is all. I get infinitely resentful on the subject of the people who did you and your sister wrong. . . and I just can’t have that for my great-grandchild either.”
There was no response you could possibly give save for the intermittent sniffles that accompanied the tears that wetted your cheeks. So, all you did was nod, a shaky smile on your lips. The man deeply loved you. You knew that. But, it made your heart hurt in a strange way when he’d say things that truly proved it. . . since he so rarely did. The baby must have meant a lot to him already, for him to feel so inclined to bare his heart like this. 
“I love that child and I will protect it in my role as long as I can,” he said, his own voice wobbling on the words. “I promise you, Sugarplum. Just like I did for you and your sister.”
After a couple of moments, you found something to say, out of the mess of emotions hugging your heart. 
“This baby’s father will be nothing like ours,” you said, without a doubt. You barely remembered the man who’d helped make the two of you. He hadn’t ever really been around–a sperm donor at best. “He’s an incredible man. The baby is very lucky to have him.”
The words pinched your chest, your stomach twisting tight on what you’d said. . . Jake was so wonderful. Even if he didn’t want you, he wanted the baby. You knew that. You knew it. You had seen it in his eyes the moment you’d said the baby was his. Jake Kiszka was special and you were glad your baby would be part of him–was already part of him. You were glad the baby had him.
You just weren’t ready to tell your grandparents it was him. . . you didn’t want either of them to unrightfully judge Jake if they were to know. Especially your Grandfather. . . they’d had such an honest, genuine connection. It had been magical to witness. Jake, having been the person to bring the old man out of his shell for the first time in your entire life. 
You knew you had to tell them soon, but it just didn’t feel like the right time quite yet. . . There was so much going on already. The two of them finding out the identity of the baby’s father could wait just a little longer. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
You got home around eleven o’clock that night, after taking Elsie to Josh’s. The night had been exactly what your soul needed. Time with your Grandma and Grandpa, as well as a car jam session with Elsie on the way to her boyfriend’s apartment. 
The reason you’d finished so late was because your grandparents hadn’t really wanted the night to end. After sitting through every end credit of A Christmas Story, you’d rented the brand new A Christmas Story Christmas on the Roku TV you’d Christmas-gifted the two elderly people a year ago. 
Although, you hadn’t ended up paying much attention to the movie since your grandparents had been determined to hear all about Elsie’s travels and your current. . . predicament. They had also questioned you about school.
Thankfully, you’d given a few barely-there answers and the conversation had basically concluded on that subject. There hadn’t even been an onslaught of career-based questions. All of the baby-related inquiries had been a good distraction from that. 
They’d even stayed up past their bedtime of nine o’clock, aiming to hear every last detail of your life and Elsie’s. But, there’d come a point that your Grandpa had fallen asleep as he’d tuned out, signaling the end of the evening. 
So, at 11:00, you were finally pulling in to the apartment complex, safe and sound into your designated parking spot. Jake’s car was where he usually parked it, you noticed. But, you already knew he was home. He’d texted about an hour back asking when you’d be home, to which you’d responded with an I don’t know, a little flutter in your tummy as you typed. 
Even though he hadn’t responded, it didn’t crush you. Truly. You were becoming accustomed to your present relationship with him. . . well. . . .at least you were really trying to become accustomed.
On the way up to the apartment, you barely made the last step with how utterly exhausted you were. The act of carrying a child was not easy work and honestly, your grandparents hadn’t been the only ones staying up past their bedtime. You’d kept the heavy-lidded blinking at bay at your childhood home, but as you unlocked the door, you let out a long yawn which felt like it’d been waiting for hours to be released. Because it had been. You hadn’t wanted to be rude while engaging in conversation. Felt so relaxing and the action in and of itself had totally drained you. Your comfy, cozy bed was calling you.
When you entered the apartment, you were assaulted by the wondrous smells of something sweet and sugary–the scent was closely comparable to cake or cupcakes. You almost let your nose drag you to the source, but when you looked into the kitchen on your trek to your bedroom, you hastily decided against that idea. And you suddenly felt like you were going to profusely vomit. 
Jake, with his back facing you as he leaned against the kitchen island, his fingers grasping at nothing, only gripping what he could of the counter his ass was pressing against. His beautiful locks of hair were all stringy and messy–the telling sign of hands having been run through it. His moans were enough to make you grow chills from both distaste and lust. The sound of him reaching his release was unlike any other. . . 
But the infuriating fact that it was coming from the tanned, curvaceous woman on her knees in front of him. Who, unfortunately, you could see from the side of the island. And to make matters worse, she was barely fucking clothed. A tiny sheer dress of black lingerie, the only thing you could see from your vantage point. She had her free hand bunched into the material at the back of his gray t-shirt, holding onto him for dear fucking life as she went to town.
When the bile rose to your throat, you knew you had to get away before you threw up. You did not want to puke up any Thanksgiving food, thank you very much. Couldn’t ruin the sentimental dishes only because of Jake and his frustratingly beautiful girlfriend. 
To your relief, once you made it to your room, quiet as a mouse, you found your Stanley as cold as you’d left it (praises-fucking-be for Stanley insulation). And you didn’t have to force sleep after you’d taken a quick makeup wipe to your face and put on an oversized Pratt t-shirt. 
The moans and groans and whiny-fucking-sighs from the kitchen faded out in no time as sleep almost instantly found you. 
Thank fucking God for the tiredness that came with making a human. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
a/n: see you tomorrow w part 2... Friendsgiving will kick off pt 2... there is so much to come ;)
ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts! love youuuu <3
& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)
Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98
(and, due to t*mblr’s shitass guidelines, i will be adding the other tags in a reblog of the story!)
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whalesandclouds · 4 months
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What does my heart want to shout out? | PAC reading
Hi! Finally back with another pick a card reading. As always please pick an image that calls out to you. If unsure, close your eyes and take a moment to breathe in and out, then try again. Don't worry if nothing stands out, this could just mean it is not meant for you. Only take what resonates. Any feedback is always appreciated!
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PILE 1
My Heart wants to shout out to take back my power and thrive. To release the resistance I hold about a subject, so my dreams and desires can be realised. To create from love instead of fear. I deserve to have what I want without compromising my truth. I cannot change what has happened, but I can change what I do from this moment on. I am loved. My Heart wants to shout out that I am ready for a new adventure. A new journey that not everyone may understand. But it is completely okay. I want to travel to a new place I have never been before. I want to try new practises to evolve spiritually.  My Heart wants to shout out to be proud of myself. I believe in myself. I don’t compare myself to others. I recognise and appreciate my own talents and assets. My Heart wants to shout out to embrace my inner warrior. I extend an olive branch before I defend my territories. I cleanse with ease lower energies and thought forms that have become a disruption to my every day routines.
Affirmation: I am a unique and beautiful soul, my light is radiant
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PILE 2
My Heart wants to shout out to find harmonic state of well-being. I acknowledge and address the need to free myself from external disturbance, toxic environments, excessive noise and emotional chaos. I can achieve a peaceful state of mind with meditation, balanced choices and pure silence. I burn any ill feeling with exercise, journalling or meditative practice. My Heart wants to shout out to keep following my dreams. I feel encouragement and support as I continue taking actual steps towards my goals. I am open to help and kindness from others. I am thankful. My Heart wants to shout out to be bold. To come into my power now as the time of action is now. I am powerful. I am determined. I take assertive stance as needed.
Affirmation: I am taking charge of my destiny!
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PILE 3
My Heart wants to shout out to let light in. It is time for me to step into my shining light. I release all that is stopping happiness from flowing into my world. I recognise that struggle is not required on my path. Today is the day I release any disturbances in my energy.  My Heart wants to shout out to fully step into the path of self-realisation. I am in a time of great personal change and growth. I work through feelings of sadness and melancholy with ease. I am not afraid to start over again or find new ways to support the life that I want. My Heart wants to shout out to show the world the real me. I will no longer hide or hold myself back from being myself. Even if change is frightening, I allow my life to unfold and progress by staying true to myself.
Affirmation: I hold the answers within me. My energy is limitless
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PILE 4
My Heart wants to shout out to tune in to my soul’s voice. As my mind and heart expand I find it easier to interpret my soul’s messages. Practise helps to listen to my intuition and tune into my psychic senses. I embrace and acknowledge that messages can also come through my dreams. My Heart wants to shout out to connect to my soul family. Spending time with my chosen family will bring wisdom and happiness in my life. Reconnections at this moment initiate new friendships and bring closure to memories of the past. My soul family empower me to be my best self. My Heart wants to shout out to trust the Universe. I release what I have been gripping onto with ease. I state my intention to the universe and then detach. I live and let live a little. My Heart wants to shout out to put my knowledge into practice. I follow my heart instead of my head. But I also recognise having more structure and routine in my life will help bring me success.
Affirmation: I trust my soul’s whispers. I trust my intuition and psychic senses
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saintbryde · 3 months
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bound to the jinni | pt 3
Content Warnings | Tropes : breeding kink, noncon, dubcon, huge monster peen, somnophilia, sex slave and master dynamic, primal, dom/sub power exchange, squirting, creampie, fingering, bondage, drugged state from aphrodisiacs, instalove, raspberry sherbet flavored cum which is also an aphrodisiac
A/N : Please don’t use this as a reliable sex resource, the sex slave and master dynamic presented here is in no way meant to be a true representation of a healthy BDSM relationship
Parts: pt 4
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Varcan never had such a vivid wet dream until he felt a body shift on top of him.
His eyes snapped open, finding Heather above him. Her face was flushed, pouty lips showing traces of his cum dripping down to her chest. He didn’t think it was possible to cum so hard and so much in his sleep—but Heather was full of surprises.
And waking up with Heather’s mouth on his cock certainly wasn’t on his bingo card. He felt special thinking Heather chose this method all on her own, that she wanted to suck him awake.
Now it was time to reward her for being such a good cock slut.
But before he could get up, Heather pushed him back, pinning him by his shoulders.
“Master.” She whined. “Fuck me like you own me. Fill me up with your cum until you’ve bred me. Please, I can’t stand my pussy being empty anymore.”
Varcan’s heart stopped. He almost came from the mere image of it—him on top of Heather, caging her in and rutting into her sweet pussy, her ass planted in the air for him. He knew his semen could have an aphrodisiac effect—but that was only possible if it was his mate. He was never letting Heather go now.
“Fuck, pet.” He groaned, brushing her cheek with his thumb. “That was so good of you to milk my cock in my sleep.” He pulled her in, kissing her deeply. “I can’t take it anymore, either. I’m going to breed you all day and night.”
“Yes.” she breathed, grinding her wet core against the head of his generous cock. There was one issue with fucking Heather, Varcan noted. He couldn’t fit inside her. At least not all of him. But if she was his mate, she’d expand for him. There was only one way to be sure. Heather’s dress was flimsy enough to be torn off, and she giggled as he trailed kisses down her face to her collar bone, mouth stopping at her breasts.
Varcan blew on her hard nipples, watching her squirm with anticipation. But then he felt Heather nudge the head of his cock against her entrance and he lost it.
He took one of her breasts in his mouth, sucking and biting, relishing her squeal of excitement. She positioned herself to sink down on his cock and felt Heather close around him in the first delicious push. She tightened around Varcan, her walls silken and wet for him, but regardless it was a tight fit.
“Oh God.” She gasped, gripping his shoulders.
Varcan looked into her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. You’re just so big.” She almost laughed.
He snickered lightly, before double checking, his tone serious. “Do you want to stop?”
“No. You’ve got to breed me, remember? There’s nothing I want more than for you to be inside me, Master.”
Varcan closed his eyes at that, suppressing the urge to buck up into Heather. He wanted nothing more than to impale her on his dick and watch her take it on top of him. But he didn’t want to hurt her for being so good to him.
He brought his hand down to her pussy, feeling for her little bud. When he found it, he spat in his hand and played with it. It was the encouragement Heather needed, now whimpering and taking more of him.
She slammed down onto him, fully engulfing his cock. Varcan’s balls tightened, and he swore he saw stars.
Heather was his mate.
He snarled. “Heather, you’re mine.”
Varcan planned to keep her as his sex slave for a little while before releasing Heather back to Shadow Falls. He’d gotten payback for her capture of him, and he’d broken free.
But his heart clenched painfully at the thought of her separating from him.
He needed to fuck her so good that Heather would feel the same. He gripped her wide hips, watching her bounce on his dick and setting a rhythm. “I belong to you, Master.” She panted.
She took a deep breath, and Varcan sensing her orgasm cresting, held her up as her body went limp, falling to his chest. He gripped her ass, and drilled up into her until she was screaming, her pussy convulsing around him.
“Fuck.” Varcan roared. With two final jagged pumps he spilled into her, filling Heather’s pussy just like he promised.
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jaynovz · 1 month
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Expanded Info for Black Sails Kink Meme 2024
Hi there!
Since there has been a sufficient amount of interest for this idea, let me explain a little further how I think this will work and general guidelines–
I’m encouraging as informal and low stress/pressure of an atmosphere as possible here. Back in The Day when LiveJournal Kink Memes were common, it was very typical to see a prompt put up and filled within an hour. It doesn’t have to be polished, it doesn’t have to make logistical sense, it just has to fill the prompt as best as you can, sexily! It’s supposed to be fun. A bunch of fun, raunchy kink and smut to roll around in as a fandom. 🥳 🥳
So yeah, first thing to expect, it’s basically ALL PWP (porn without plot). Not to say that someone can’t write a full plot epic if they like, do whatever you like, but in my experience, a 4am fugue state smut fill written in a sweaty haze is kind of, the spirit of the thing. We’re creating ficlets, snapshots, tasty treats of smut with as little pressure to make it in any way polished as possible. Please think of this as, hmmm, a little fun writing exercise you do before you go back to your Big Serious Work, if that helps. We are letting loose, we are having fun, we are being deliciously, joyously, unrepentantly filthy with it! The tagline for the event is: “Get High, Jerk Off Three Times, and Write Me a Warmup :DD”
A prompt might say, for example– “MaxAnne, s2, would love to see the girls get slippery wet with some period sex, bonus if one or both eats the other out while she’s menstruating.” 
Pretty standard stuff, nothing that off the wall from my perspective, however, some folks might feel shy about asking for it for whatever reasons and so the anonymous format frees ppl up to ask for anything from: “Midshipman James McGraw getting caned in pre-canon by his superiors” to, idk, “full tentacle-y type oviposition porn where someone is being forced to come over and over again while being implanted with eggs by some giant plant beast on Skeleton Island (probably Silver).”
Literally ask for whatever smut you want~~ This is your chance, toss it into the pot! It will be tagged accordingly when posted if it’s filled, so live your truth, chase your bliss, know no shame, no one can see you~~
It is helpful when submitting a prompt to give details that are important to you, and the prompt filler will do their best with it. <3 So, I suggest giving a ship specification up front, maybe a vague timeline (season 1, season 2, etc), and then the kinks you want to see with a short description. Sort of like the MaxAnne period sex I gave an example of above.
Logistics and Structure of Submissions–
I have created a sideblog called @blacksailskmeme through which, once submissions are live (it will be open to accept prompts hopefully in March 2024), you may submit ANON ASK PROMPTS. I will publish them with a number and a link to the collection. If you like one of the prompts, simply post it through the collection with its corresponding number and then that AO3 link to your fill will be reblogged underneath the original ask prompt.
Simple as that! 
Follow the Event Blog, or the tag #2024BSKMemeFills in order to keep tabs on when prompts are filled. 
This makes it very easy for me and yall both, as there is no claiming process to trouble ourselves with. As many fills as are written are allowed for each prompt, simply write whatever speaks to you and I’ll be able to track the fills by the notifs on the collection. :DD
As of now, I’m planning to open prompts in March 2024 and keep the collection and blog running for prompts and fills both up through the end of Summer 2024. To respect the spirit of the event, all fills and prompts MUST be anonymous. Edit for clarification: The entire collection is marked Anonymous, which means any work submitted to it will be posted Anon. There is no option you need to worry about checking to guarantee this. I apologize for the initial confusing language, I have been learning as I go.
It still stands that if, after the event is closed, you want to then de-anon your work, that is your prerogative. However, it will mean you must remove the work from the collection, as the collection itself will forever and always remain anonymous.
Rules–
–This is an 18 plus event, please, as all of the content will be Explicit. 
–It is also a Black Sails Only Event, please no crossover prompts or fills. However, AU of all types are encouraged with our favorite pirates.
–All ships, all kinks, are welcome for submission, and the fill will then be tagged appropriately. If you have any questions on how to tag something, or just want another pair of eyes to confirm, you can always DM me <3
–Fills must be 500 words minimum of fic. There is no maximum and the fill is allowed to be WIP if you intend to write more chapters later. I would encourage that the content of the prompt be IN the first chapter at least before submission to the collection.
–We’re Gonna Be Nice and Civil!! No ship bashing, no kink shaming, we’re all mature adults here. If you don’t like something, then don’t fill it, don’t reblog it, don’t read it, pretend you do not see it. If you don’t like it, it’s not for you! 
If I haven’t covered everything here, or if you’re unsure about something, feel free to reach out to me either through the event blog or through @jaynovz <3 Also, if you’d like to help me out with the event, hit me up as well.
Thank you!
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