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#maya should know better by now

iwanttogoeverywhereplease · 2 years

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okay listen up I have a thing to say

(or don’t listen, because your life is your own and your social media experience is also your own and I love that for us, look at us making decisions based on what we want to do and what will make us happy and what is healthiest, we are doing so well)

(this post is sponsored by my prof making fun of me in front of my class for enjoying the MCU)

Why is it so bad to like things that a bunch of other people like? I get that Disney and Marvel and Star Wars, etc., are bloated and commercialized and mainstream, but they’re also fun, is the thing. At least for me. I enjoy Marvel, still. I enjoy Star Wars, still. And what is art except people making something because they like making things?

Okay, as I say this I realize that my point loses its punch with that because mainstream media can twist the motivation for making something from joy to acclaim/$$, but STILL. I LIKE the characters in the mainstream movies. I like the ones in the small indie movies, too. I enjoy both/and, and I like watching Netflix shows that a lot of other people like watching, and I like writing fanfiction about those big shows, and I like watching people analyze and enjoy the media that I’m analyzing and enjoying too.

idk. I’m not trying to defend something that shouldn’t be defended, but maybe just... joy? Joy should be allowed to exist without guilt? because so many things come with guilt and shame attached when there’s no POINT in them having that emotional price tag.

maybe this is me giving myself a solo therapy session because I feel all tender and sensitive about liking billion-dollar productions. And, look, I don’t like that they’re billion-dollar. I desperately miss the 80s and practical effects and people that look like people and PUPPETS. Good gracious I miss puppets. But at the same time I miss the days when I just had Marvel DVDs from the library and no access to the internet and I just liked watching them and thinking about the characters and writing fanfic.

blegh idk thanks for reading this if you got this far also please consider making yourself chocolate chip waffles because I did that this morning and it was magical

#how to tag this?#idk because I'm not sure I want people to read it #but also I just wrote a lot of words #anyway do what you want to do and enjoy it and please let other people do the same #I'm not mad I'm just sad lol #waffles #leslie knope knows what's up #I feel like media should just be fun if you want it to be fun and that you should be allowed to just want it to be fun #I'm so tired of Film People in my circle quietly/not quietly judging me for liking the things I like #SOMETIMES STUFF IS FUN AND THAT'S OKAY #THE WORLD IS ON FIRE AND I'M TIRED AND I JUST WANT TO WATCH CAROL DANVERS SHOOT LASERS #anyway I'm going to go knit and listen to Maya Hawke now #side note if you haven't listened to her and you have nothing better to do I'm obsessed with her right now #and yes that is because of Stranger Things #a very big show which I enjoy #currently I enjoy it apologetically but I want to work on enjoying it unapologetically #BECAUSE ENJOYING THINGS IS OKAY

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kiwinatorwaffles · 8 months

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two aroaces try to figure out dates 28 injured 3 dead

(image description in alt text and under cut)

Image description:

The first page of a three-paged comic. Panel 1: Edgeworth crosses his arms with an uncertain expression, saying, "miss maya, i hope you don't mind me requesting your help on such a short notice. Panel 2: Edgeworth lifts his hand to his chin, saying "i want to show wright appreciation by inviting him to a date, but i have no idea what to do. i was wondering if you had any advice or ideas from the perspective of someone who also doesn't experience romantic attraction. Panel 3: Maya grins and says, "oh yea, totes! i can help! lemme quickly just--" Panel 4: Maya pulls out her phone, scrolling through her Ao3 page titled "mayoinnaise." She says uncertainly, "um…. date ideas right… erm…. ok gimme a sec…."

The second page of a three-paged comic. Panel 1: Maya and Edgeworth have a back-and-forth conversation, starting with Maya's speech bubble. "how about going to the countryside and horseback riding and having a picnic?" "horseback…? the countryside is hours away…" "okay um… just a picnic then?" "i'm allergic to pollen." "sounds like you're just allergic to dates. "apologies…" Panel 2: Maya says, "wait i have a great idea!! you should get drinks and watch something on tv until he gets mega drunk and starts crying at you because you're so beautiful!!" Below Maya's speech bubble is a little bubble titled "Maya vision:" where Phoenix is blushing with his tie around his head, saying "miles i love you" with a bunch of "u's" stretching out. Panel 3: Edgeworth, unamused, says "…you know maybe i should've gone to larry". Panel 4: Offended, Maya replies, "hey!" in all caps and bolded italic text. "do you think LARRY would have better advice? he'd be all like," Her speech bubble cuts off here, switching to one that mimics Larry, indicated by a small Larry head beside the speech bubble and text saying "Larry voice". It reads, "edgey boy you should take him to your place and fuck him raw!" Panel 5: Edgeworth, looking sick, replies, "…good point. now excuse me while i go throw up."

The last page of a three-paged comic. Panel 1: Maya scrolling desperately with a speech bubble consisting entirely of ellipses. Text on the corner of the panel reads, "(on her 7th ao3 page)". Panel 2: Maya suddenly exclaims "dinner!" in italicized all-caps. "nothing bad ever happens with dinner!" Panel 3: Edgeworth closes his eyes and presses a finger against his temple, saying, "last time we had a dinner 'date,' wright ate his salad with a butter knife…" Dejected, Maya replies, "right. that time. post cancelled no dinner i guess". Panel 4: Maya looks back at her phone with one hand up in defeat and says, "man, i'm sorry… pretty much all i write is homoeroticism and angst! maybe we should ask larry…" Edgeworth's speech bubble reassures her, "i appreciate the help regardless…" Panel 5: A context box in the top-left of the panel reads, "meanwhile, phoenix:" Phoenix sits on the couch outside the office with a confused expression, thinking "wtf are they talking about". There is text in the bottom left corner that reads "(they kicked him out of the office)".

End ID.

#ace attorney #miles edgeworth #maya fey #phoenix wright #wrightworth #narumitsu #phoenix wright ace attorney #kiwi’s scribbles

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rafesfavgirl · 4 days

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treat you better — j. maybank

❝ tell me, why are we wasting time on all your wasted crying when you should be with me instead? i know i can treat you better ❞

pairing: best friend!jj x cheater!reader

context: once again, you went through your boyfriend's phone and found things you didn't wanna find. but for some reason, you can't seem to build up the courage to finally end things with him (he was your first love, after all). so, you turn to your best friend, jj, for advice and comfort.

words: 1.4k+

warnings: reader's in a toxic relationship, mild cheating (physical & emotional, but i don't condone it!!), a little angst, fluff

you sat at the edge of the pier at the chateau, your eyes focused on the way the moon reflected off the marsh. you had just snuck out of your boyfriend's house after he fell asleep and you looked through his phone.

adriana. kelly. paige. maya. lauryn. the number of girls' names you found in his insta dms and messages went on and on.

why did you put up with this? i mean, sure, he was your first… everything, but was he really worth it?

"y/n?" you hear a familiar voice call out your name and turn your head to find jj walking down the dock to join you. "what are you doing out here?"

"just needed some time to think," you said, looking back out towards the marsh.

jj lets out a sigh, already having an inkling of what must be bothering you, and takes a seat beside you. "let me guess… liam again?"

"i just don't understand why it can't just be me," you shrug, a thousand things running through your head. most of the time, liam told you the girls were just his "friends". but deep down, you always wondered whether or not he took it any further with any of them. and that thought, alone, made you sick to your stomach.

"i mean, am i doing something wrong?" you turn your head to look jj, only to find that he was already looking at you, a certain kind of sadness filling his baby blues. he hated that you even thought you were the one in the wrong.

"it's not you, y/n. whatever he's doing, it's on him," he tells you. "stop putting up with it."

"but i love him, j," you admit, your voice cracking a little. you knew that you shouldn't. he was a scum bag. nothing but a cheater. but he was also the guy who made you feel like the most special girl in the world. the one you'd completely laid yourself bare to. "what am i suppose to do about that?"

the defeated look in your eyes broke his heart. but instead of listing off different ways you could deal with liam, jj decides to be a friend, and opens his arms up to you, "come here."

for the first time all night, you let yourself break, and immediately fall into his arms.

"i just don't get it," you sobbed into jj's chest, as he ran a hand through your hair and rested his head on top of yours,

in an attempt to soothe you. "i've done everything, j." you continued. "everything he needs from me, i do. everything he wants me to be, i try to be. so why can't he just let the other girls go? why can't i just be the one?"

hearing you cry about this guy was not only breaking jj's heart, but also making his blood boil. liam didn't deserve you, he knew that much.

after a few minutes in silence of jj just running his hands through your hair and pepperring soft kisses on your head, you finally pull away from him, looking like a complete mess.

there were now black stains under your eyes from crying some of your mascara off, and pieces of your hair stuck to your tear-stained cheeks, as you sniffled.

"i'm sorry," you said, attempting to rub off the mascara stains also leftover on jj's shirt. "your shirt's all stained with tears and mascara now."

"i don't give a shit about my shirt, y/n," he tells you, bringing a hand up to tuck your messy hair behind your ear. "are you okay?"

you sighed, the tears threatening to well up in your eyes again. ugh. after hearing yourself going on about the way you've felt about liam treating you, you were beginning to wonder whether or not it was really love you were feeling for him or not.

but if it wasn't love, why did you still feel like crying?

"i don't even know anymore," you say honestly, shaking your head and running your fingers through your hair. "i mean, how do you even go about loving someone who's hurt you so much?"

"you don't," jj tells you.

"you don't think i love him?" i asked. i wasn't sure why i was asking jj, but i also knew that he knew me better than anyone. maybe even better than liam. so if there was anyone who could tell whether or not i was in love… it'd be him, right?

"i can't tell you how you feel, y/n," he says.

"i'm not asking you to," i reply. "i just wanna know what you think."

he sighs, and shifts his eyes between yours. he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure it was his place to do so—more so, he wasn't sure you'd like his take.

"promise you won't get mad?"

you chuckle, feeling uneasy now. "why would i get mad?"

"i think you're scared," he says, causing you to furrow your brows.

you scoff, thinking he sounds ridiculous. "scared? why would i be scared?"

"because he's your first," he shrugs. "i mean, he was your first, right?"

"so? what does that have to do with anything?" you ask, knowing damn well the information was relevant.

"i know you, y/n," he says, locking his eyes with mine. "you're a hopeless romantic who has your head buried in those romance books all the time because that's what you want. you want your first to be the one. and you're a perfectionist. you can't stand the idea of putting your all into one person only for them to not be worth it… so all this time… that's what you've tried to do."

you stay quiet. jj was actually making sense.

"i'm not saying you didn't love him," he continues. "i think you really did, but the love you felt before isn't what you're feeling now. i think it's just indifference. you don't want to believe that you've actually lost feelings for someone you've fought so hard for, so you try to convince yourself those feelings are still there. because that way… at least you won't be the bad guy."

your mouth had fallen agape, as you realized that jj was right. "wow."

"but you're not the bad guy anyway," he assures you, placing a hand on top of yours. "you've done all you can. what he does isn't your fault. your only fault would be staying."

"but what if he's fucked me up so bad that i've become unlovable?" you ask, voicing your real fear. truth was, you weren't always the best girlfriend. since liam made you feel so insecure about his feelings towards you all the time, it made you act out in ways you never thought you would. you'd call him incessantly when he wouldn't answer. you'd demand he cut certain girls off. ask for his location at all times. he saw the absolute worst of you. and yet, he stayed. what if no one else did?

"is that really what you think?" jj asks.

"i wasn't always the perfect girlfriend, j," i admit, glancing down and fiddling with his fingers on top of mine. "i was insecure all the time. i constantly-"

"because he made you feel that way," jj cuts you off, and picks your head up with his hands to make you look at him. "don't you get it, y/n? whatever you did, it was because of him. anyone made to feel insecure would act out. that's not your fault. you're just…" his eyes shift between yours. "human."

"but what if-"

"but nothing," he shook his head. "you are the absolute perfect version of yourself, y/n. and liam's an idiot for not realizing that. it doesn't get better than you."

without even thinking and being overwhelmed by the sweetness of jj's words, you lean in to kiss him.

he doesn't even hesitate to kiss you back, his hands on your face immediately tangling into your hair.

your hands make their way to back of his head, the kiss deepening as they do.

your tongues dance together in perfect harmony, until you abruptly pull away.

"wait, wait, wait," you say, and he looks at you, a mix of confusion and sadness at the lost of touch present on his face. "this feels wrong."

he glances down, "oh."

"no, not like that. i mean-" you take a deep breath to get your words together, while jj just looks at you. "the kiss was great. amazing, even. it's just… i'm still technically liam's girlfriend."

his eyes light up at the compliment about the kiss, before he chuckles, "shit."

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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pelova4president · 4 months

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The extrovert to my introvert

Maya Le Tissier x Reader

summary~ You met Maya when you were twelve and playing in a boys only team, she too was the only girl in her team. A year later you meet again, only now she’s your teammate at England.

You’ve always loved Maya Le Tissier.

Growing up, playing in an all boys team was tough. At first they were soft with you but that changed when you started to tackle them, hard. They challenged you more and harder, they didn’t want to lose to a girl. ‘Girls can’t play football’ is the phrase you heard most growing up.

When you had a game against another team, your teammates did stick up for you. The boys from the other team would yell insults when you walked past them. Their parents were even worse, the dads yelled at their kids whenever you nutmegged them and the moms told your parents that they should take you off football.

The game almost always got a whole lot more physical after the first half. The opponent didn’t want to lose to a girl. They tried to take you out with bad tackles and tugged at your shirt until you fell down. But your teammates stood up for you. Your captain pushed the boy that took you down and even the parents of your teammates would yell at the boy and his coach for being so reckless.

You’d never played in a girls team or against a girl, really. Although it was hard playing against boys, you wouldn’t trade it for a thing. The boys were tough on you but whenever you needed them, they got your back. It had always been like this, it kept you on your toes and you preformed better because of it.

It wasn’t until you turned twelve that you played against a girl. The only girl on an all boys team, just like you.

You stared at her from the sideline, where your team was doing their warming-up. “Y/n, what’re you looking at?” your captain yelled. He took you out of your trance and you turned you head towards the warming-up again.

“You know the girl?” you asked one of your teammates that was stood next to you, stretching. He shrugged and answered, “Not really, all i know is that her name’s Maya.”.

Maya was a defender, you were a striker, you were destined to meet on the field.

Your team starts slow, and the other team scores an early goal. But you need to make an impression. As the game goes on, you notice the girl defending you, she had so much skill and isn't afraid to make a tackle. She makes it beyond hard for you to get past her.

At halftime, your team is 2-0 down, but you can't lose, not to her. In the second half, you come back stronger and harder. With fast footwork, you create opportunities. The girl is right there, trying to block your every move, but you're not giving up.

In the final minutes, it finally happens. The parents watching spur you on as you maneuver past defenders, including the girl who you've been eyeing all game. You score a goal and you run towards your teammates, but not before looking at Maya. The girl smiles, impressed by your work.

But you're not done yet. You're still one goal down, you need atleast one other goal. As the game continues, you find yourself in the perfect position.

With a well-timed shot, you score another goal, tying the game.

The match ends in a draw, but for you it felt like a little victory.

You shook the hands of your opponents, leaving one for last. The brunette walked over to you. “You played good.” she complimented. With red cheeks you responded, “Thanks, you too, you made it really tough to score.”. She laughed and walked away.

One year later you met again, at the Under 15’s for England. Maya had already made friends but you didn’t. It had always been harder for you to make friends, especially girl friends.

You were sat on a tree trunk outside. It was wasn’t really cold outside since it was still summer but it wasn’t warm either, the evening breeze making the hairs on your forearms stand up.

There you were, feeling homesick and kicking some rocks away like they were footballs.

Maya saw you sitting from inside the training center and decided to go talk to you. “Mind if i sit here?” she asked you but was already sitting next to you before you could answer. You already knew who it was. Maya started kicking rocks too, “This is kinda boring, why won’t you come inside?”. Again, you didn’t really answer and just shrugged. You didn’t move to go inside so she stayed there too, the whole evening.

She did all the talking. “I’ve never been to an England camp before, i hope we get to keep our game kits.” she rambled. She even made you laugh when she told you about the one time she ‘accidentally’ broke the nose of an opponent. Maya could talk for the both of you and you just listened.

When the England staff called the both of you inside because you needed to go to your room you said something for the first time that evening. “You’re fun, Maya.” you told her looking at your feet that were still kicking little rocks away.

“Thank you. I think you’re way better company than the other girls here, y/n.” she complimented, looking at your face that had gotten red at her compliment. She knew you weren’t much of a talker but that didn’t bother her, you’ll eventually open up.

You did open up. The two of you were polar opposites, Maya’s extroverted who loved to talk while you were an introvert who rarely talks. But even though you were so different you were inseparable from that first camp day on.

A year later, you realised that you didn’t just think of Maya as your bestfriend. She might’ve been your whole world at this point. When you weren’t at camp together you’d text or call eachother whenever you could.

You had Maya as your screensaver and laptop backgroup, a photo of the two of you next to your bed. Her Le Tissier England shirt was hung up on your wall. She made you a friendship bracelet with her intials and number on it, a red and white ‘MLT4’ rested on your wrist. You’d made her one too but messed the colours up, she still wore it though.

You laid down on your bed and looked up at the ceiling, where ofcourse was another photo of the brunette and you, at the first camp England camp.

It was at the Under-17 Euros that you confessed your crush on her. You’d just been eliminated. You had to go home. You had to go home, text or call Maya everyday pretending you were fine with just being friends and after six weeks you got to see eachother again and you’d do it all over again.

It was silent on the way back to the hotel. You didn’t say anything, she didn’t say anything. The team got out of the bus and most of the girls headed to their room.

You didn’t. You walked towards a wooden bench outside and sat down. The bench made a little sound when you sat down. The sun had long gone down and you could only think about what you could’ve done better. You could’ve passed to one of your teammates and maybe they would’ve scored.

You heard the bench make that same sound again when Maya sat down beside you. Frowning you looked up at her. The defender looked you in your eyes and sighed.

“I know it’s not the end of the world but it certainly feels like it. I mean how did we let them score that first one? I had to do better-“ she rambled like she always did. Normally you’d let her but not today. “Maya, i could’ve scored. Don’t go and blame yourself. Just like you said, it’s not the end of the world, we’re gonna be alright.” you cut her off.

She looked at you again placed her and on top of yours. “Also.. i like you Maya. Not as teammates or friends. I kind of love you, you know.” you blurted out without thinking.

Maya had to stiffle her laughter and bit her cheek. You looked up again, confused by the silence. “Why aren’t you saying anything, please say something.” you said, sounding a bit stressed.

“Y/n, that’s the most you’ve ever said to me in one time.” she laughed. You looked away with a red face. “Y/n i love you as a teammate and a friend but i’d love you even more as my girlfriend.” she said taking you by surprise.

Maya took your chin in her hands and turned your head towards hers. “I’d like to kiss you now.” she whispered softly, leaning in you kissed her. It was soft, passionate and sweet, just like her.

The two of you were girlfriends by the time the Under-19 World Cup was happening. Now that you’d both got scouted by the red side of Manchester you started living together. It wasn’t a big appartement since your parents money was still the biggest part of your income.

Maya’s dad drove you and your lover to the airport since you had to fly to Spain where the tournament was held.

mayaletissier posted on their story

The tournament went well. Maya asked you to give the girls another chance and you’d do anything for Maya so ofcourse you did. You liked Maya’s company better but this was fine too. Some of the girls were quite funny.

When you were eating dinner with some of the girls you got the best idea. Biking around for a bit in the dark and maybe even swimming in some lake would be fun. You proposed the idea to a few of the girl and they were in. But something was in the way of this brilliant plan. The staff probably wouldn’t let you go so you needed to do it in secret.

You asked the girls to meet you by the bikes at 8.

You were waiting with Maya when some of the girls joined you. The sun was going down but it was still warm since it was June and you were in Spain.

jesspark_16

After the World Cup, where England got second, The Netherlands winning, Maya took you camping. Maya had told you all about her camping adventures with her family.

Camping in France had been a tradition in your lovers family. Every year they’d go and camp for atleast one week. Maya loved her family so she was beyond excited to take you camping with them.

mayaletissier posted on their story

Even after the World Cup, when you both got into the Senior England team you loved to travel together. Maya got to make her debut while you still had to wait. It was okay because you knew she deserved it.

At Manchester United the both of you were regular starters. When you got a professional contract for the senior team you bought your lover and yourself your own (tiny) house. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t big. You got your own space, a little home for the both of you.

When the big home Euros arrived, Maya was called up. You weren’t. Ofcourse you were heartbroken but that only made you work harder, wanting to get where your lover got.

Every England game you were sat in the stands, watching your girl play for her country.

mayaletissier

liked by alessiarusso99 and 53.197 others

Proud to have made my Euros debut.

comments

y/n_y/l/n so so proud of my my MLT23

ellatoone shining ✨

keirawalsh ⭐️girl

woso4evr she’s the future of england

maya_y/nfann so sad y/n wasn’t selected

When Maya won the Euros you screamed your lungs out. The usual quiet introvert left your body and you went crazy. Your Maya had brought it home.

When it had all sank in you got on your plane to your planned vacation. It was perfect. It was sunny and sandy and there were restaurants and little shops everywhere.

mayaletissier

liked by lucybronze and 114.719 others

love love love

comments

y/n_y/l/n are your parents bakers, because you’re a cutie pie

↳ mayaletissier disgustingly cheesy

↳ y/l/n_y/l/n you know you like it

alessiarusso99 cute!!

missybokearns girlfriends that play together stay together 😍

letissier4fan they’re so good together

y/n_y/l/n

liked by missybokearns and 79.728 others

the extrovert to my introvert

comments

jesspark_16 🧀🧀yyyy

↳ y/n_y/l/n go find a gf jessie

1maryearps already so grown up

mayaletissier do you have a sunburn or are you always this hot??

↳ y/n_y/l/n maya..

leahwilliamsonn why does your vacation look better than mine

↳ y/n_y/l/n cuz i’ve got my planner gf

li0n3sses45 i don’t know who’d i rather be, maya or y/n

footballtooney11 i want what they have

#maya le tissier x reader #maya le tissier #lionness #lionesses #lionesses x reader #jess park #missy bo kearns #lucy bronze #engwnt #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso #manchester united women #man utd women #mary earps

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bryngmemoney · 3 months

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✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: none

Writing in between messages!!

🪡Chapter Nineteen: First Date

Megumi led the way as you walked by his side to a restaurant he had recommended, which was apparently also his favorite.

“I think you’ll like it, well I hope you like it.” he smiled at you as you two continued your walk. “I bet I will, sounds good from what you’ve described.”

He looked down at your hand, wondering if he should reach for it, at least to try and be a little more romantic. Megumi had been alone with you before, last night he was feeling especially brave, so why couldn’t he do that now. He felt nervous, more than he had been any other time with you. It might’ve been the fact that this was officially a date.

He was a little thankful when he finally saw the street sign of the place a few feet away from you. Maybe once you guys had settled down to eat he’d know what to do.

There ended up being a couple people waiting in front of you, so you guys ended up waiting to be seated for a bit. “You really like this place?” you asked him. “Yeah, it’s pretty good i’d say.” You took a moment to look around the place as you waited, it definitely went in line with the atmosphere you’d think he’d enjoy.

You turned to look at him about to bring up the whole fiasco in the morning, only to stop when you saw he had his camera app open, ‘discreetly’ trying to look at himself. You saw him try to adjust a few strands of his hair that fell on his face, his eyes scrunching slightly with worry as if he thought he looked off. “I like your hair.” you complimented, catching him completely off guard. He looked up from his phone, immediately trying to hide the screen as if you hadn’t already been looking at him.

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing special.” He had to look away before you noticed how red his face was getting.

“Megumi,” you laughed, watching his back completely face you.

“Shut up, don’t laugh at me, I take you out for lunch and this is the thanks I get?” He peeked back over, still slightly flustered but in a better condition to at least look at you.

“You’re cute, and pretty, it’s why I chose you to be my model.”

“Shut up, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

Just then the hostess called out his name, signaling the table was ready for you two. “C’mon,” he spoke, finally deciding to just grab your hand, as you both walked to be seated.

Excited to finally just sit down with you and talk, especially after working up more confidence, he was about to let go of your hand so you could take a seat across from him in the booth you’d been assigned. Yet the moment he heard an all too familiar voice call his name he cursed the universe for ruining his one chance. He debated running off with you knowing exactly who was approaching.

“Megumi kid, is that you?” You turned to look behind you, only to be met with your teacher, Satoru Gojo.

“Megumi! It is! And Y/n? What is going on here?” He had a more teasing, playful tone, yet you were a bit put off by the whole thing.

“Go away, please.” Megumi said, you felt him slightly tighten his hold around your hand.

“Oh but we haven’t caught up in so long! I basically raised you and now you shew me away? Why don’t we have lunch together, me and Geto were just about to be sat down, but we can just join you two! Don’t worry i’ll pay.” Before Megumi could protest again, he was already sat on one side, turning around to wave Geto over once they saw each other.

“I’m so so sorry,” you heard Megumi mumble to you as he sat down defeatedly opposite of Gojo, leaving room for you.

Author’s Note: megumi’s so done

anyways next date will hopefully be uninterrupted 🤗

hope you guys enjoyed!

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv @renemy @frumira @mixzimi @miralunaela @dreamxiing @p3achiee @anianurst @nishii28 @arguendo @sleepytoges @hallothankmas

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charmedreincarnation · 11 months

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Ya bitch got into the void state

Champagne anon here and your mf girlll got in the mf void state and manifested her dream life. This happened a week ago, and I’ve been chilling but I do wanna share my story to help others. Gotta give Thanks to Maya, and so many other bloggers and even anon. Y’all hoes will forever be in my heart, and I’m forever grateful 🥹 also Maya girl you told me when I succeed to get into detail and I got nothing to do for the next two hours so imaaa just share it all here in detail.

I also wanna especially thank all the black creators on tumblr!! I didn’t know there were so many of us using the law. It always seems the world is so against us, and there’s nothing we can do abt it but nahhhh!! we can all live our best melanated lives regardless. Periodt, as we should it’s about goddamned time after everything we’ve been though 😂

Anyways!!!! after reading this: https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/717864613626134528/im-your-bubble-anon-but-i-made-this-burner-to success story yesterday I got hella motivated. I read that shit and I thought I posted it on accident because it was everything I had been through, and had been thinking anyways. That anon ate your tumblr habits btw. If y’all haven’t seen my good sis’s sucess post go check that shut out rn, On god it will help.

At the end that anon (my mf dawg 🙏) included that they manifested for everyone. Now ion know if that shit actually work tbh. I’ve seen people say you can and can’t, but tbh the vibes were too high for me to doubt. I was like ight, okay fuck it, ima leave my dream life. Whether it me, that anon, or the devil himself ion give a fuck.

So that’s whatssss a bitch did!!! I just affirmed all day it was very fulfilling. People who hate on affirming are mad corny. I can’t lie that shit works hella fast even if you don’t believe it. Idk if that anon’s void manifesting helped or what but I didn’t do much and after 3 months of trying I entered the damn void state. I’m mad I thought I had to be on some ghandi shit to do this (no hate to him hes da man) but you rlly don’t y’all. BUT LEMME TALK MY SHIT ALL YOU NEED IS AFFIRMING AND PERSISTENCE.

Anyways I went go bed excited asl!! I wrote my script that was like 10 pages long I can’t lie I did the most… but it’s whateva. I woke up in the void state after waking up at 4 am or sum, and i was like oh shityyyt lemme manifest rq and skrttt out this hoe. So that’s what a mf did 😂😂

Anyways the part y’all’s is waiting for. This is what ya girl manifested

Desired face and body. I was in shock how all the details came to life. Y’all im a solid 100/10 it’s giving natural bbl and Aliyah. I swear to gahhh everywhere I go people be trying to peep. I’m not used to being treated like a fucking celeb everywhere I go, whole time it’s just my fat gyattttt

Being the hottest 16 yr old IT GIRL at my school, and having lucky girl syndrome. People call me a mini jayda wayda, but tbh I’m better than her now. No hoe is ever gonna cheat on meee like they did her…bye. She’s still gorgeous as fuck tho

Perfect school life. Your girl is set to be the Valedictorian when I graduate (my school has 4!) I’m also sophomore year President, captain of the basketball team, apart of some volunteer programs through my school, and so much more. My resume and college application is abt to be so fuckin fire in 2 years. As I should Columbia is a competitive ass school 😤😤 that aside everyone always tryna link, I got 3 guys fighting over me (whole damn love square), so many people tryna be my friends, teachers love me, and I excel in everything I do.

My Family being rich assss fuck. My dad got a Wikipedia now and his net worth is 22 million dollars. He owns a hedge fund company now, we love a man in finance 😍😍 AS HE FUCKING SHOULD. He got a material gurlll daughter. Two in fact now.

Fire ass crib. Bro it’s a 9 million dollar penthouse, perfect for ragers. I woke up here and my room is decorated to my personality, pintrest clothes all in my closet, I got an exotic pitbull and frenchie, and the house is just mad clean and fire, I’m obsessed with it. Rarely ever wanna leave now.

My mom not being strict. That bald headed ass hoe use to be mad annoying. Y’all know how Haitians are. Mad annoying as fuck and strict for no reason. Now I go out everyday and come home at midnight and no one gives a fuck. Everyone minds their own business as they should.

Having an older brother and younger sister. I was an only child, because I was a miracle baby bc my mom was infertile. Now she got 3 of us, so she can stop being only in my buisness. I’m just playin I love my mom regardless she’s just hella clingy. Anyways my brother is mad protective but also be wrestling mad aggressive for no damn reason. He gave me a bruise but it’s whateva Ima get my lick back. I also always wanted to be an older sister, bc I’d love to be a role model! My sister is 10 and adores me soo much it’s so adorable 🥹 lmfaooo, she’s mad spoiled by me and my mom but it is what it is.

Successful lip gloss business and being a successful drop shipper. Now you didn’t think a sista wasn’t gonna give herself a career just because I’m young right 🤨🤨 we’ll ya wrong. Ya girl is making 200k-400k a year. I barely even use my money cause I got an allowance from my parents… but still, financial literacy and wealth is so important to me especially as a black woman.

A pookie bae. Y’all know I wasn’t gonna deal with finding a loyal cute and funny guy in nyc. It’s like finding a needle in a haystack. Anyways I got me a fine ass boo. I just wrote down all the features I wanted in him like for exampleS finically secure so he can spoil me, handsome as fuck, tall, funny asl, kind, little clingy, deep raspy voice, nice hand, good hygiene and style,yanno yanooo !!! Plus some other shit and whewww the void did me so good. Nowww my boo bear is a lil cracker and I’ve never dated a white boy befuh but my am I surprised. I wake up everyday with some long ass appreciation texts and plans already made ! Y’all know I love me a dominant man who knows what he wants. He’s got some nice ass clothes, nice car and crib, made me a passenger princess and spoils me way too much. He doesn’t complain abt my mood swings and simps in the best way possible. Not to mention he’s fine afkkk he’s giving vinnie hacker. He’s also 6’1 and I’m 5’1 so that height difference is soooo hot I can’t lie I feel so so safe with him 🫣 I could go on all day but in short he’s more than perfect

+ so much more but this is what shocked me the most. Anyways I’ve been living like this for the past week and it just feel so natural. I keep forgetting I got into the void but whateva I’m the only who knows anyways. Anyways live yo best life and neva give upppp. I gotta go but I’ll probably eventually make a blog. My names angela so look out for it. I’m just mad lazy soo idk tho !!!

Angela out 🫡✌️

Girl this was so fun to read, I’m just as excited for you lmfao. I love seeing black women win, and thank you for sharing your methods! Enjoy your best life and come back if it resonates with your life bae !!!

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #law of attraction #void success

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presidentlokis-hornyhelmet · 10 months

Note

Pavitr x reader

Reader having her period PLEASE 😚

My Little Heat Pack

Summary: It's that time of the month for you. Cue mood swings, cramps... and misunderstandings. Tags: Misunderstandings, Mood Swings, period, Pre Menstrual syndrome (PMS), menstrual cramps, Pav being a sweetiepie A/N: Sanam means smth like sweetheart or lover idk: Meri jaan = my life (pet name)

Also read on AO3

"I hate it, i hate it, I hate everything!", you snap.

It's been like that for a week now; you've been all snappy and angry and sobbing at something someone said for no reason. It was petty and you hated it but you couldn't control your emotions. It was a fucking mess.

And then, there's your stomach, cramping at the most inopportune times. It was that fucking time of the month. It didn't help you had PMS either, which made it all the more worse.

Pain flares in your lower abdomen, joining the one in your knees. You curl on the bed hugging the pillow with a heat pack on your tummy, hoping the pain goes away. The bloating and the blood flow throw your mental peace into a blender, skin feeling annoyingly hotter. The bra hurts your sore breasts and to add insult to injury, pimples had shown up!

With your lower back killing you, you just want to roll over and sleep, feeling exhausted. Moaning in pain, you reach for your phone and put on some music. At least that will make you feel better.

________

Pavitr sat on his bed pouting like a sad puppy.

Since last week you've been behaving weird and even though he only began to date you a month ago, he feels he should at least know if you were mad at him.

Were you mad at him? He had no clue what he'd done to make you upset, worried that he somehow fucked this up.

It began last Monday when he threw his arms around you in greeting.

"Sanam!", he'd yelled in your ear, trying to lift you up for a spin.

You squirmed in his arms and removed yourself with a polite smile, leaving him with a lame excuse to walk with Gayatri.

Since then you two have been sticking together. You usually do, but now it seems like you don't want him around, finding excuses to run away from him and it made him sad.

He decided to give you space, thinking you were in a bad mood. (And, in a bad mood you were). Either way, he was sure you'd feel better by the end of day.

His hope wilted when Pavitr found you looking increasingly irritated as the day progressed, as if you were annoyed with anything and everything. You were cursing more than ever! You had been lying down the whole day, occasionally clutching your stomach and when he asked, you replied you were fine, which made him more worried.

Alarms went off in his head and he grew all the more concerned when you won't hang out with him.

Why were you avoiding him? What did he do wrong?

He thought back to the last week and what he did that might've upset you, in vain. He got up, pacing in his room as a hundred scenarios ran in his head -nothing helpful. It was frustrating.

Lost, he went to find Maya aunty for advice.

_______

Music had started off good enough but right now you were in "I hate being a girl" mood, and the song currently playing wasn't much help. Rain splattering against your window managed to calm you down a little, though; you've always loved the rain.

"Knock knock."

You startle as you see Pavitr sitting on your window pane, surprisingly not wet. "Pav?", you sniff, eyes watery, "how did you-"

"Magic", he says, stepping into your room. He tenses seeing your tears tracks. "Sanam, are you crying?"

"Arcade", you explain, "That song is so sad.."

Pavitr smiles in relief and hands you a tissue, kissing your forehead after. You watch him, curious as he takes off his hoodie and reveals a grocery bag from inside it.

"I come bearing gifts!"

Gifts? Vaguely, you recall snapping at him earlier and an apology is on the tip of your tongue when the cramps come again. Fuck fuck fuck!

"Shh, it's okay, I'm here", he says in a soft tone, running his hand over your tummy. His touch is like magic and you instantly feel better.

"Wow.. my cramps stopped!"

Pavitr blushes hard at that, words abandoning him as he tries to speak. Giving up, he reaches into the bag instead.

"Chocolate? I read it makes you feel better during these times."

Just like that, your mood soars as you eye the sweets. All types -milk, coconut, strawberry, dark chocolate, a couple of snickers' and mars bars. Beneath it you find a tub of ice cream, assorted sweets and then some.

Pavitr just chuckles as you greedily munch on the candy and refuse to share.

"How did you know what to bring?", you ask when you've had your fill.

He rubs his neck shyly, "I thought I did something to upset you and that's why you won't talk to me. So I asked Maya aunty and she said about.. this... I did some googling to find out what would help."

Your heart practically melts, eyes tearing up in joy. "Aww, you're such a sweetiepie, Pav. I'm sorry to make you think that way. I didn't realize it."

"No need to apologize, meri jaan. I just want to help you. Speaking of..", he trailed, looking hesitant, "may I cuddle you? I heard it helps ease the pain."

You grin nodding and lie down in a spooning position, welcoming him. Pavitr is more than happy to oblige and wraps his arm from behind, rubbing your tummy in soothing circles. The pain in your abdomen and private parts rapidly becomes more bearable with his presence.

"Stay like this?", you plead and he grins his approval. You snuggle closer, sighing as your body finally relaxes. He really is what you need!

"Mmm.. you're my little heat pack."

Pavitr smiles seeing you slowly nod off in his arm, not ceasing his rubs when you shuffle in your sleep. He places a soft kiss on your cheek and tucks a loose strand behind your ear, amused when your lips twitch up slightly.

Pavitr smiles as his extra sensitive hearing catches you mumble his name in your sleep, cooing over you.

"You're little heat pack."

_____

Hope you enjoyed it! Reblogs & comments appreciated <3

#pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr prabhakar x you #pavitr x you #pavitr x reader #spider-man: across the spiderverse #pavitr fluff #spiderman india

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enavstars · 5 months

Text

This is Ninazu Rashid or Dr. Rashid, my only ninjago oc besides Cyra. He is a doctor in Ignacia that befriended Kai and Nya and cares a lot about them.

Basically I wanted to make a kind and patient adult oc because Kai and Nya need one (badly) and there are barely any nice adults in the show (not including Ed and Edna, we respect them :>).

Details:

(Cw: mentions of homophobia and ped0philia)

Dr. Rashid is the doctor of a small clinic in Ignacia who also runs the pharmacy. He met the siblings when Kai got badly sick and they called him out for help. Even when Kai got better, Rashid couldn’t keep the situation they were living in off his mind, so he would usually go to check on Kai's health... and also take care of them a bit, in whatever little way he could.

Nya used to go by the clinic after school because Rashid would usually give her drinks and snacks (she loved the hot choco in winter) and he tried, with little success, to make Nya convince Kai to come so he could eat something too.

One time, Nya got sick and Kai went under the rain to his door to ask dr. Rashid for help; of course, he went with him and gave the necessary medicine to Nya. Since they couldn’t afford it, though, Kai asked to work at the pharmacy to help Rashid as compensation, and after a lot of insinsting, the doctor finally gave in and let him. But they ended up bonding during that time, and Rashid did defend Kai even when he started stealing, but he also made him understand that he should only do so when absolutely necessary.

However, as he's gay, when the conservative village found out a bunch of nasty rumors started to spread, most of them about his sexuality and his relationship with Kai and Nya (ped0philia). Rashid tried to endure the comments but it was starting to affect his job with people simply not going to the clinic because of it. So, sadly, he had to leave to Ninjago City, unintentionally leaving Kai and Nya with even more abandonment issues and not a single safe person in the village.

In the present he spent many years trying to be Kai and Nya's general doctor for whenever they get hurt in missions (even going out of his way to study more so he could help them), until finally he made it (I know nothing of how hospital works so this may be wrong). The siblings were confused and angry at him at first, until he explained the reasons why he left and they calmed down.

Dr. Rashid then proceeded to ask what he could do to make them feel better from then on, and actually listened to them and treated them like grown people (looking at you Ray and Maya :))). Kai and Nya then forgave him and are really good friends with him now.

More stuff:

He got married and is sad and frustrated that he couldn't invite the siblings to the wedding.

He is really respected in the hospital for being the only doctor who Kai and Nya listen to and how "docile" they are with him.

Kai and Nya sometimes visit him for dinner.

He is also very kind to the other ninja and understands how hard they work for Ninjago. He is specially kind to Lloyd for that and for being Kai and Nya's younger brother.

#the duality of my ocs with Kai #one wants to take care of him and it’s literally the kindest person #and the other wants to make him go through hell #art #ninjago #ninjago oc #ninjago kai #kai smith #ninjago nya #nya smith #rgb siblings

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monstersandbrothers · 2 months

Text

begging all my samdean girlies on hands and knees to read “I Loved You In Another Life” by David Arnold. this book has THE MOST weecest coded brothers I’ve ever encountered in literature. i am physically running a fever over this. Some quotes for your perusal:

“To look at Will is to experience firsthand that people are generally good, that life is a beautiful gift. Right away, you know he’s a sweet kid, a soft, too-good-for-this-world kid, and I’m not just saying this because he’s my favorite human on earth (he is), but there’s a light in his face, a look that somehow feels happy and sad all at once, heavy and featherweight, like a candle burning from the bottom of a well, and he may leave a mess wherever he goes, and occasionally forget to stop talking, but I love him more than anything loves anything else.”

“I’m not afraid of big love. And maybe it’s weird for a seventeen-year-old to think this way, but sometimes I worry what kind of dad I’ll be. I worry because a dad should love his kid more than anyone else on the planet, and as far as I’m concerned, that position is filled. I worry because, when I hug Will, I feel the fragility of his life, and I imagine him as a tiny-boned bird in the middle of a raging storm, and I wish I could save him by clapping my hands and saying I believe, but I can’t. I wish I could tell him his ouch-shields will protect him, but I can’t do that either.”

“Sometimes I hate Maya, to be totally honest. Sometimes she says something so true, it scalds the skin around my ears. Mostly this happens when we talk about Will, and how I want to take care of him, protect him from the world, and she reminds me I’m not his dad, and I’ll have a sudden inclination to set her office on fire.”

“Their hearts light up. Bright red. It’s part of how they communicate, E.T. and the other aliens. First time we watched it, Will said it reminded him of us. We were on the floor, backs against the couch, an open box of pizza on the coffee table. When the little alien hearts lit up, Will didn’t miss a beat. ‘It’s like us,’ he said. ‘My heart glows to you. And yours glows to me.’ ”

“And now he’s in front of me, those little arms wide open, head tilted off to the side, and it occurs to me that for the rest of my life—from now until the day I die—every embrace will be measured against this. “My heart glows to you,” he says in my ear. “I’ll be right here,” I say. And I consider the physics of love, wonder how it’s possible to fit the whole world in a hug.”

“I think you should let your brother’s love make you better, not lesser.”

“I often wonder if I’m the emotionally erratic mess of a person I think I am, or if my brother’s love induces emotional erraticism.”

“I keep rubbing his forehead, just this small sign of stability: I am here. This won’t change.”

“‘Do you like it?’ ‘It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen, William.’ He climbs up on his knees, leans his mouth to my ear, and whispers, ‘You can call me Will. But just you.’”

“At his door, I whisper the only thing that really matters, the thing that makes us us: ‘I’ll be right here, Will.’”

begging you . BEFGING. Thank you for coming to my ted talk

#wincest #weecest #gencest #supernatural #spn #samdean #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #also in general more people should read David Arnold’s books #they are so so so good #books #book recs #David Arnold

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repulsiveliquidation · 6 months

Note

Would love a Maya le tissier one fluff

“I’m not sick.” “You’re delusional.”

Maya Le Tessier x Reader as requested!

7:30AM, A flat in Manchester.

You heard Maya’s alarm go off. You turn it off, the sun was just starting to pour in. You look down to see her still wrapped in your arms. You smile softly, brushing her hair out of her face. She looks too cute like this, cheek smushed into your chest with her mouth open a little. A few pecks to her forehead cause her to stir, already grumbling and asking for 5 more minutes. You indulge her, running your fingers through her brown hair for ten more minutes before you coax her up before she’s late for training. Her forehead feels a little hot and her skin a little clammy but it had been a hot day in Manchester so you were constantly kicking to covers on and off the whole night.

You were in the kitchen making her breakfast when the first wave of nausea hit her. She slammed the door closed and threw up into the toilet just in time. You had heard the door slam but ignored it, thinking she just kicked it too hard. She washed up and immediately felt just a hair better, thinking it was a one-time thing and decided not to tell you about it.

You busied yourself with packing her kit bag, knowing she tended to forget things when you didn’t double-check her bag. You were just stuffing her boots into her bag when she appeared, signature smile on her face. You kissed her, hands wrapping around her neck naturally as hers snaked around your waist. Her lips were always soft and warm, slotting together so perfectly as you get lost in the feeling. You pulled away; lips swollen a little from her shenanigans. “You’re distracting, you are.” You smack her shoulder as she flashed her smile again, you grabbed your coffee mug as she ate her breakfast. The eggs made her want to throw up again but she shoved them down nonetheless. You drove her to practice, planning to pick her up after and go on a date.

She was quiet the whole way, your hand holding hers in the centre console. You rubbed your thumb across her hand, her head resting on the cold window as she looked out the window at the now wet Manchester. “Are you alright, darling? You’re pretty quiet love.” You asked as you were pulling into the training centre. She simply nodded, leaning in to kiss your cheek as she jumped out of the car. “I’m fine baby, I’ll see you later. Look pretty, I love you!” she said as she walked by the open driver’s side window, leaning in to kiss your nose. “I love you too,” you mumbled, wondering why she kissed your nose and not your lips. You shrug it off, driving home with your favorite songs playing.

Maya felt like shit. She knew she should have told you she was not feeling well and stayed home. They were scrimmaging; she was trying not to throw up all over the field. Her passes were sloppy and she barely heard any instructions. Katie pulled her to the side, seeing her face pale as another wave of nausea. “You look like shit, LT.” Katie told her, Maya immediately running to the bin to throw up. Katie rubbed her back, the rest of the girls coming towards her to check on her. “Okay, we’re calling the missus. You’re going home.” Ella spoke after Maya’s retching stopped momentarily. “I’m not sick.” She tried to argue but the girls were having none of it. “You’re delusional, LT. I’m calling Y/N. Does she know?”

The look Ella got was enough indication that you didn’t. “Hey Y/N/N, it’s Ella. Yeah, Maya isn’t feeling too good, can you come get her? You felt something was wrong? She’s stubborn alright. Right, see you in a bit yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell her, LT?”

“I threw up this morning but I felt a little better before she dropped me off so I didn’t tell her.” She admitted, chugging down the water Mary handed to her.

“She was right, you are stubborn.”

“Shut up Tooney, she won’t let me hear the end of this.”

You walked into the changing room 15 minutes later, eyes finding Maya practically curled up in her cubby. “Oh, sweetheart. Why didn’t you tell me you threw up this morning? I would have kept you in bed and you wouldn’t be feeling sorry for yourself.” “Tooney did you tell on me? How did you know I threw up this morning, I hadn’t told you.” “Mary blabbed.” “Earps, I will end you!” “I’ll have you know I’m more scared of your missus than you, you can threaten me all you want LT. Go home, feel better!”

You gathered all of Maya’s things, she was feeling chilly and dead on her feet; fever spiking fast. You waved to the girls quickly, kissing Tooney’s cheek for calling you to come get Maya and thanking Katie for watching out for her. With her stuff in the back, you drove home slowly since the motion made Maya want to throw up again. Your hand rubbed the inside of her thigh soothingly, her head resting on the cold window again as she whined and wanted to be babied.

You helped her into the house, weight fully on you. She only managed to get to the couch, throwing herself on there. You grinned and took off her training top and shorts, wincing when you felt her warm forehead. She huffed and whined more, giving her a kiss before walking to the bathroom for a wash cloth and a cold bowl of water. You soaked the cloth in the cold water and wringed it out, placing it on her forehead to cool her fever down. You rubbed her chest softly, making her feel less congested. You did this a few times, reaching for a thermometer to check her temperature again. It had come down and she was finally asleep. You kissed her forehead, walking into the kitchen to make her some chicken soup.

You were in deep concentration and didn’t hear her calling for you until a grumpy Maya stood in the doorway of the kitchen. “What could be so important in here that you’re not cuddling me?” she asked with a cute pout and a sniffle. You laughed and helped her back to the couch, tucking her in and kissing her forehead again. “I’m making you some soup darling, then you take some meds hm? Be a good girl and give me 10 more minutes okay? We can eat and then I’ll cuddle you all day, how’s that sound?” “Good, go hurry.” And she was out like a light. You chuckled and shook your head fondly as you went back to the kitchen to finish cooking.

“Maya? Wake up darling, lunch is ready.” You sit beside her, rubbing her arm as she stirred. She ate quietly, making you feed her since her “arms were having a fever too and she couldn’t move them.”

You watched her to whole day, pampering her and giving in to all her cuddle requests. That's until you sneezed.

“guess we’re both sick now.”

“yeah, no thanks to you LT.”

“no one I’d rather be sick with, love.”

“damn right baby.”

#woso imagine #woso soccer #maya le tissier #maya le tessier x reader #man utd women #lionesses #engwnt #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics

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jakeyt · 2 months

Text

Covet: Chapter 10 (Part 2 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great.

Was.

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home.

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

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

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

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

Chapter Word Count: 16.7k+

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

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

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

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

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

-Thomas Adams

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 25, 2022

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

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

Maya.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A few weeks?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake had been the main chef for Friendsgiving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And her breasts. Felt those, too.

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

We were so close for those few seconds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck that bitch, you thought hotly— ridiculously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was something he was concerned about. . .

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

Oh, how cute and funny.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 28, 2022

Covid. Gia had Covid.

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

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

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

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

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

Don��t stress too much about the session being cancelled. :) Things happen and we have plenty of time, y/n.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Food?”

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wondering why we’re here?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

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

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

And, for a moment, it felt so domestic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

So, it was due time for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

:) –Jake

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soup is the best when you’re sick :)

–Jake

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

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

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

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

Props and pillows and sleep, oh my!

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

–Look into pregnancy pillows for y/n

–Be patient!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was fine. . .

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

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

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

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

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

God, what the fuck, y/n?

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the thought of being a single mother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ugly? Fat? Disgust–?”

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

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

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

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

Carrying my baby.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus. There it was.

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

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

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

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

“Where are you getting this from?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His next words confirmed it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But . . . goddamn. The sex.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And, god, did you still want him.

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

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

December 4, 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

The one problem was. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was not ending up like you’d planned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And ho-ly fuck.

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

But then he began moving his hands away.

No.

“I’m sorry— I-I didn’t mean to—.”

“Stay.”

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

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

You fucking hoped so.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck! What had gotten into–?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” He questioned, raspy and needy.

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

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

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

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

Of course she was here. Why wouldn’t she be?

You hadn’t heard the tell-tale sign of anyone taking steps towards the kitchen from the slightly creaky hallway, but you still decided you needed to get the fuck away from Jake. He was not yours.

You pulled away harshly and quickly, turning around all as you went to pull up your tank.

When you fully turned around, he was standing stock-still, watching your every move with your top, not letting his eyes fall away from your breasts. Your hard nipples. You felt the blush spread across your entire chest.

Then he bit his lip, your entire body heating at the motion, before he was responding.

You moved forward to hold his cheek, trying to wake him from the daze he was in. Your words barely hit the air, you were so quiet. “Jake, go back to your room. I’ll clean this up so she doesn’t–.”

“I’m good, babe,” he called back to her in a low tone, still honing in on your eyes. Your brows dipped, confused. He looked to the fridge, his hand coming to hold your bicep, keeping you there. Why was he not getting his ass back to his room? “Y/n’s asleep and I really don’t want to wake her,” he lied, eyes still glued to something to your left.

She could walk in and see he was lying! Why was he being so fucking careless?

“Just go back to bed,” he continued, leaving no room for argument or worry. “I dropped something when I was getting up to get some water.”

“Okay,” she responded, not using the same near-whispering tone as him. “Just don’t be long, baby.”

“I won’t,” he simply said, amber-brown irises, tracing back to yours in the dim lighting of the kitchen, highlighted by the moon, shining in through the kitchen window. Full moon. Anything can happen.

And what was happening was wrong.

When you heard his bedroom door click closed and a little squeak from the bed to indicate someone had placed weight on it, you pulled away from him, his arm slowly dropping back to his side. The eyes that stared back at yours had a question behind them, but you didn’t give him time to ask it.

“Jake,” your tone clipped and quiet. You didn’t want to break the ridiculous cover he’d mindlessly created. “Why the fuck did you lie like that?”

“I didn’t want her to come in here,” he cut back, his inflection reflecting the same hot energy as yours. “If she would’ve known we were both in here, she would have come looking. I don’t need that,” he insisted. “And neither do you. Especially with your tits on full fucking display like that.”

You glanced down, after he’d motioned momentarily at your chest. And, his words rang true when you realized your entire fucking nipple and areola was visible through the material. Even in the darkness of night, you could tell as much. Your arms flew up to snugly cover them, flinching at the way it felt like sharp needles were pressing into your chest momentarily.

When you peered down to where you saw his hand moving, you realized he was palming himself through his pants. You felt yourself release, the slightest bit in your panties.

Your hands tightened closer to your chest, doing the opposite of what you wanted in that moment–you wanted to bring your shirt down over yourself and let him finish on your waiting ches–.

Suddenly the pressure against you was too much and your arms were falling from their place across your breasts. Thus, standing there, on full display. Right fucking there for stupid ass Maya to walk in at any moment.

Honestly, you were the stupid ass. And it seemed like Jake was, too.

Maya was the innocent one in all of this.

“Go wait in your room for me,” he whispered heatedly, his words piercing your heart at the anxious energy floating through your veins. “I’ll clean this up. And then I’ll be—.”

“But–,” you brought your arms up to your chest again, covering yourself. It was a brainless move to flash your chest like that. You didn’t want to tempt him in any way. “This is my mess just–.”

“Y/n,” he all but spit in your direction with the harshness in his whisper. “I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself on the water or glass. Please.”

Good point.

So, you decided you’d do as you were told, though not without the last word.

“Fine,” you practically growled, stepping over water, his hand reaching out to you, trying to balance over a puddle pooled at your feet. You grabbed his hand, one arm covered your heaving chest, as you made your way over the mess, and finished your thought. “But don’t come to my room. Go back to bed. I don’t want Maya to–.”

“I don’t care right now–,” he cut you off, but you didn’t let him continue before interjecting.

“You will in the morning, Jacob,” you bit back, making fiery eye contact, crossing your arms. The hiss you released at the feeling of both arms covering yourself again was embarrassing. So, you tried to play it off. “You will. Just don’t make the mistake of coming to see me ton–.”

“It wouldn’t be a mist–.”

“Jake. Yes it would,” you insisted with a tense whisper, taking one step towards him, not taking your eyes from his once. “I’m not going to have you ruin what you have with her just to make a fucking mistake with me.”

Throughout the span of that small conversation, you saw his eyes go through every possible wave of emotion. His beautiful, deep set eyes had started wide with excitement, to now being filled with white hot frustration. He was mad.

The last emotion made its way straight to the pit of your tummy and to your panties as you felt them draw even wetter. Damn. You’d take any sex with Jake right now, but angry sex? Dammit if that didn’t get you–.

No, y/n. Stop it.

“Do you not want this? Why were you—just minutes ago if you don’t–?”

“I never said I didn’t want it.” You flat-out said, without a second thought. Why even lie when you’d just exposed yourself with whatever you’d just done with him? To him?

The two of you stood there, watching each other with flushed cheeks, hot breaths, and equally heaving chests.

God, you would not be able to hold onto your momentary flash of integrity if you didn’t finish your thought and leave him.

“We just can’t do it. It wouldn’t be right,” you sniffed. Shit. Your throat was tightening, eyes collecting tears. “I don’t want to be the reason you leave a woman–the woman you love,” you choked, foolishly, on the emotion that quickly made its way from your throat to your eyes. “I just want you to be happy.”

His own expression matched yours, his eyes pooled with tears of dejection. There were once more a couple moments, filled with silence.

Silence, aside from your deep breathing, and wrought with an energy you couldn’t place. You had to get away from him.

“Just go to bed. I won’t fucking bother you,” he said, swallowing thickly. He then spoke your words from earlier. “And let me clean this up.”

Again, you sniffled, but nodded, looking down, to cover it with a barely there 'goodnight'.

He didn’t say anything else, just went about his business in the kitchen to put things back together, turning his back on you altogether.

Suffice to say, you cried for a good chunk of time as you laid in bed, after changing into a big t-shirt.

Cried big, fat, somber tears.

The crying had even lasted long enough, keeping you up to hear the bed creak much more than necessary when Jake got back to his bedroom. . . The sound of soft, pleasured moans from both of them, accompanying the groans of the bed as they moved on top of it.

Lucky fucking you.

The bed that used to be yours when that room was yours. . . The acts being made against it that made you want to punch something - someone. Someone with long, black hair and a too-sweet expression.

Like a child, you growled and used a spare pillow to cover your ears until you couldn’t hear anything through the plush filling of the pillow.

You also tried to distract yourself with TikToks, but you couldn’t focus on your feed filled with BabyTok. It just made you sad and wistful as you thought of your day of book shopping with Jake. . .

About 30 minutes later, you figured the coast was clear. It had occurred to you after lying there, doing aimless shit, that you were still very thirsty. . . your tongue felt like cardboard in your mouth.

When you opened the door to go to the kitchen, though, you found a tumbler that didn’t belong to you, waiting for you. And when you picked it up, you realized exactly who it belonged to. . . the words told you as much.

Merry Christmas, Jacob Thomas!

Love you,

Mom

The Cricut-vinyl lettering was placed carefully across the front of the black off-brand Yeti. What you found when you looked through the clear lid was a cup full of water. Iced water.

The crying that ensued as you closed the door and placed the cup on your nightstand was no surprise to you. The sweet action made your heart thrum with unbridled admiration for him.

You hated how things were now. . . how simply interacting with him the way you had was a mistake. When you compared it to the way things had been before the fateful day in the kitchen, it made your stomach sink and your eyes well with more tears.

Then there had been what you’d heard through the walls. . . it made you want to fucking vomit. But. . .you’d brought it on yourself. No question about it.

Aaand, more of the damn tears. . .

After taking a few healthy swigs from the cup, you felt sleep find you without warning. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own.

And, as you faded into a well-earned sleep, the only solace you found that night was the smooth bump of your tummy, which your hands held protectively–longingly–as you wandered to sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hmmmmm what do you think will follow that night in the kitchen?????

Change the World from Friendsgiving :)

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

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

Taglist:

@joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend

@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf

@torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me, @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles

(i think i figured out the tags limit! woooohoooo!! boo, tumblr. you're not getting me down today lmao)

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake fic #my fics #covet #i am so DAMN excited for what's coming

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kpop---scenarios · 8 months

Text

Linked (1)

Pairing: Byun Baekhyun x Y/N

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Eventual Smut, Mean people, Language.

A/N: I'm back baby! I hope you all enjoy the first chapter!!

"Miss Y/N?" A woman says, breaking you out of your concentration of looking at tikok’s.

Startled, you look up and standing before you is a very pretty, well dressed woman holding files between her petite fingers. "Are you ready for your interview?" She asks.

Taking a small breath, as you nod your head and smile at the woman. "I'm Ava, and I'll be conducting your interview on Mr. Byun's behalf." She says, walking through the office hallways. It's so plain, the white walls just dying for at least a pop of color, or even a picture of some sort. Ava leads you into a plain white room, nothing in it but the necessary items. Did you really want to work somewhere so boring? You were lost in your thoughts again after answering only a few routine questions.

"I think you'd be a perfect fit for this job." Ava smiles. You'd only been talking for 15 minutes before she decided.

"Thank you." You smile.

"I'd like to offer you the position as the Senior Data Analyst. You'd be working directly under Mr. Byun." She tells you.

"Sure. Yes, thank you so much." You say. One thing checked off your list. Find a job, find an apartment, and get settled in this new town. Luckily you had an apartment view right after this interview, and considering you were hired on the spot you had an extremely good feeling.

The apartment sucked, but you took it anyway. You would try your best to make the small studio apartment feel like home, but you weren't quite sure how. You weren't the most stylish, if you really had to describe yourself, you were quite bland. You knew the clothes you wore were a size or two too big, but you had no urge to change yourself. For what, or for who? You had no one in your life to care about, you didn't even care about yourself.

You laid in your bed that night, staring at the popcorn ceiling, as you remembered why you moved here in the first place, and your heart broke all over again.

Slowly and quietly you pressed your ear to the bedroom door at this party.

"Stop telling Y/N she has a chance with me. Please, it makes me sick to even think about it." You hear Hongjoong laugh loudly. "I can't even listen to her talk for more than 30 seconds at a time. I don't know how you do it. Her voice is so fucking annoying."

"Right? I swear to go sometimes I feel like my ears are bleeding. And you should see her when she cries. So fucking ugly." You hear Maya giggle.

"And is it just me or is she fucking dumb? How could she love me for all these years and not realize how repulsed I am by her?" He asks.

Ouch.

“I know math isn’t her best subject but Christ, can't she add up all the things you don’t do around her and see you’re not into her, and never will be? I mean, you try to leave the room whenever she enters." Maya laughs. "So there's no chance of you leaving me for her?"

"You think I'm gonna leave a goddess like you, for that thing? Come on, baby, you should know me better than that. Plus, she doesn't have a set of tits like these." He laughs.

As quickly as the hurtful words began, they stopped. You weighed your options of what to do but your body still felt too numb to move.

You stood there, your ear pressed against the door feeling your stomach sink. You wanted to run away but it was like your feet were glued to the floor.

The floor that made your knees feel weak as you turned the door knob and pushed the door open to see Maya, on top of Hongjoong.

The music that was once pounding in your ears was now quiet. It was so muffled as you began to only hear your own shallow and fast breaths. You could hear and feel your heart pumping at a pace you were sure was off the charts, while also slowly ripping into tiny pieces.

You felt like you couldn't breathe as his hands gripped her body. They hadn't heard the door opening.

The walls were suddenly caving in as he slowly slid his fingers up and down her curves moving over her ass to squeeze it.

Tears fell from your eyes as you watched him touching her in ways that you had once dreamt about.

Your face begins to burn in complete embarrassment. The fucking betrayal you felt from someone who said they loved you. Maya was supposed to be your best friend. She was the one who was by your side when you cried, wondering why he didn't love you back. She held you as you sobbed into her lap, she wiped your tears away and always had comforting words for you. She would laugh at his Instagram page with you and acted as if she didn't even like him.

But here she was ripping you apart with him for their own enjoyment.

Tears streamed from your face as you rolled over in your bed. You hated remembering that day. The day you lost your best friend. It hurt so bad and you know you needed to move on but that's always easier said than done.

The next morning you woke up, exhausted and not ready for the day but you had your first day of work. You'd tried to look up Mr. Byun last night, but there were no pictures of him anywhere. You thought that was a little odd, but didn't chalk it up too much. You got ready for the day in record time, putting on your too big skirt, with your too big shirt and oversized blazer. You put your hair up the best you could and avoided all makeup.

Slowly, you walk into the building, making your way to the 35th floor, where your office was supposed to be. The entire floor was empty when you arrived. Just the way you liked it. You popped in your airpods, started your music and got to work organizing the 5 items on your desk. It took you roughly 3 minutes. You glanced at the clock, 6:55am. You still had 35 minutes until you were technically supposed to start, but it never hurt to get a head start. You worked for a little bit, listening to your favorite songs before you barely noticed a few people entering their cubicles. You mostly ignored them, offering a small nod of acknowledgement before getting back to work. You hadn't noticed anyone walking into the all glass office in front of you, until you felt your heart tug. A feeling you had never once felt before. You looked up and saw the most handsome, stone-cold looking man you'd ever seen. You couldn't take your eyes off of him, it was like you were drawn to him.

"Handsome, huh?" You hear, breaking you out of your trance.

"Who? What?" You say, looking up. Standing in front of you is a thin, blonde bombshell with a smile that could make you forget any worry in your life. “Hi. I’m Y/N.” You cough. She was so beautiful, it made you extremely nervous.

"Hi, I'm Lisa, I work in that cubicle to your left." She says with a smile. “I just wanted to bring these over for approval from you, and introduce myself.” She explains, showing a small pile of papers in her hand. You were listening to her, but you had a hard time keeping yourself engaged in the conversation. Your eyes continued to dart towards the man who took your breath away and Lisa definitely noticed. She let out a small giggle to regain your attention. You swiftly looked back at her, giving her an apologetic smile.

"That's Mr. Byun.” She tells you. “Do your work, don’t get in his way and don’t question him and you’ll be just fine.” she tells you.

“He looks mad.” You say, taking a quick glance at him before looking back to Lisa.

“That’s just his face I think. He always looks like he’s got a painful stick up his ass." She whispers.

"Why did you start whispering?" You asked.

She sets the pile of papers on your desk, looking back towards Mr. Byun's office and looking back at you. "He hears everything." She whispers again, walking out of your office with a smile.

Your eyes turned over to Mr. Byun, you were having a hard time turning your gaze somewhere else. There was just something about him that was driving you crazy. You watched as he shouted at someone on the phone, the veins in his neck and hands popping out intensely. His dark brown hair flowed perfectly on his head. His suit fit him perfectly, you could see the muscles all over his body.

Suddenly he slammed the phone down onto the receiver, you were surprised it didn’t break with the amount of force he used. He rubs his eyes before running his fingers through his hair. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours without hesitation. Your heart pulls toward him. You wanted to get out of your seat and slip your tongue into his mouth. You wanted to be near him, holding him and you didn't know why. His eyes are still on yours as he walks out of his office, heading straight for you. Your heart begins to pound as he gets closer to you.

"Who are you?" He asks, abruptly. You're looking directly in his eyes, you can’t help but almost get lost in them. They’re so dark, like they're filled with pure hatred.

"Uh, I'm L/N Y/N. I'm your new Senior Data Analyst. " You respond. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Byun."

"We’ll see about that. Get to work Miss. L/N." He says, walking out of your office and back to his. Your eyes meet again as he brings down his shade, his eyes still glued to yours.

The rest of the day, you couldn't get him off your mind. You had a hell of a time trying to focus on any of your work. You just wanted to see him again. Anytime you let your mind wonder, it went to him immediately. You felt like you loved him but you didn't even know him.

After you had finally finished all your work, it was dark outside. You let out a big, loud yawn as you stretched your body from your desk. You gathered all your belongings and turned the lights out to your office. As you walked by Mr. Byun’s office, you noticed the lights were still on. You peaked in through a small patch of glass that was uncovered from the shade and saw him sitting at his desk with another extremely handsome man, sitting across from him. You knew you shouldn’t have been peaking in, but your curiosity got the better of you. Within seconds, Mr. Byun’s head whipped around, his eye’s shooting daggers towards you.

You let out a small screech before you quickly take off to the elevator, hoping that either it comes fast or he doesn't come out of his office after you. You get onto the elevator and press the close door button as quickly as you can.

You made it home that night without incident and without Mr. Byun yelling at you for being nosey. You just needed to mind your business and not do that again.

You dreamt of him that night. His hands gliding over your body, his tongue licking you everywhere, how he tasted, how it felt to have him on top of you. You woke up in a puddle of sweat the next morning. You had so wished it was real.

The rest of the week went by, and he paid you no attention at all. He didn't even bring up your little snooping issue. Whenever he had a request from you, he sent Ava to ask you. Obviously he couldn’t be bothered to do it himself. You hated that. You wanted to see him again.

He kept the shades of his glass office down, further avoiding any contact with you. It wasn’t until the next week that you’d finally be able to see him again. Lisa had ever-so apologetically placed a stack of papers on your desk, minutes before 5pm. You weren't one to just leave the papers for the morning, and honestly, you had no one waiting for you at home so why wouldn't you stay late and do them. Around 8pm, you’d finally finished and you were carefully planning Lisa’s murder for the next day. You were exhausted. You grabbed your coat off the back of your chair and rubbed your eyes while you walked towards the elevator. You were so tired you didn’t even look in Mr. Byun’s office as you passed it. You had expected him to have left hours ago anyways. You pressed the down button on the wall and waited silently. It wasn't until a few seconds later you felt someone standing behind you. The doors to the elevator ding, sliding open. You turn around and see him standing there, an unimpressed expression plastered on his face.

He looks at you and at the open elevator doors, motioning for you to get in. your brain finally clicks and you get on as he follows behind you. You press the button for the first floor and prepare for an uncomfortable and silent ride down 34 floors. Mr.Byun takes a deep breath as he stands next to you, your arms just almost touching. “Why are you here?” he murmurs under his breath. You barely didn’t quite catch what he had said.

“What was that?” You ask, turning your head to look at him.

He sighs. Turning towards you, taking a few steps until you're backed into the wall. He places his hand next to your head, leaning himself in closer to you.

“I said.. Why are you here?” he whispers, his lips so close to yours. “Do you have any fucking idea what youre doing to me?” he asks, breathing heavily. His head moves closer to you, his lips narrowly escaping yours as he places his head onto your neck, inhaling deeply. It was like he couldn't get enough of your smell. Before you could say anything the elevator dings, and he moves away from you as fast as he can, walking out into the lobby, leaving you there wondering what the fuck just happened.

Over the next several weeks after that incident, he kept trying his best to ignore you. Everyday. Occasionally you’d catch a glance of him, and the eye contact was so intense you could feel heat running through your entire body. Everyday that you didn’t see him, your heart hurt more and more. You couldn’t explain why but it felt like it was breaking you. You knew it was ridiculous, he was your boss, how could you love him?

You didn't have an answer to why you did, but you did and you really didn't want to.

After working at your office for a few months, you decided you needed a change. You were tired of looking frumpy and exhausted while everyone around you looked bright and amazing. You needed to reinvent yourself, and spice up your life and you needed to do it now or you wouldn’t do it at all. That weekend you took the plunge.

You went to the salon first. you got your hair done something that was better suited for you, a new style and new color. You went to the mall, and completely changed your wardrobe from the baggy clothes you were wearing to things you normally would never wear. You bought outfits that actually fit you, and showed off your body instead of hiding it. You bought proper bras and sexy panties. You felt good and different, but a good different. You couldn't wait to showcase the new you. You had never felt so confident in yourself before, and you loved it.

Monday morning, you strutted into the office, your dress hugging your curves, your hair bouncing as you walked. You could feel all eyes on you as you walked to your office. You had never felt everyone watching you in a good way before and it felt amazing. You placed your jacket on the hook and sat in your chair to get to work. Lisa walked into your office with her mouth hanging wide open.

“Girl.” She squeals. “You look phenomenal!” She eye’d you up and down, admiring your outfit.

You could feel your cheeks get hot from the compliment. “Thank you.” you laughed. “It feels weird, but good.” you tell her.

“It should feel all good, girl. You look great.” she smiles. “Also Ava is out today, so i've been instructed to tell you that Mr. Byun needs to see you in his office.” She says, side eyeing his office.

You try your best to swallow the lump in your throat as you nod your head. You hadn't seen him when you walked in, and you anxiously wondered what he would possibly think of your new look. You stood up, smoothed out your dress before heading towards his office. You stood in front of the door, breathing heavily as you knocked lightly on his door.

“Come in.” you hear from a gruff voice.

You turn the handle to his door and walk in and it’s like you can’t breathe. He sits there, his hands in his lap, leaning back in his chair. Fuck he looks so good.

“You wanted to see me?” you ask.

“You changed yourself.” he points out. His eyes trail your body up and down as he admires you.

“Just a few things. What did you need to see me for, Mr. Byun?” you ask. You wanted to get out of there as fast as you could. Your heart was racing, you could feel the sweat covering the palms of your hands.

“Call me Baekhyun.” he says, getting out of his chair. He walks towards you, almost in slow-motion, like he was gliding towards you. You step back as he gets closer to you. His head reaches out, caressing your face.

“It’s getting too hard to fight, Y/N.” he whispers, looking deep into your eyes. “I don’t want to want you.”

“I don’t want to want you either.” You admit.

“You feel it too? The pull, the urge, the desperation?” he asks. You can’t speak, you can only nod your head. “Then it’s true.. You are my mate.”

“I'm your what..” you ask. Before he can answer, his door swings open. Baekhyun backs away from you and in walks a brunette bombshell. She was absolutely stunning and you’d never seen her before.

“Jennie.” Baekhyun says, clearing his throat. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

“Poor girl looks frightened, Baeky.” she smiles. “I hope you're not scaring your staff too much.” she giggles.

“Who are y..” you begin before she cuts you off.

“Oh!” she laughs. “I’m Jennie Kim.” she announces, moving closer to Baekhyun, wrapping her arm around him.

“I’m his fiancee.”

#baekyhun #exo smut #exowritersnet #baekhyun smut #byun baekhyun #exo #exo writing #baekhyun writing #kpopscenarios #kpopscape #noonasinnetwork

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thedeadchildrean · 1 month

Text

( space riders au by @onyxonline )

( use this for translation for some parts in the story)

TIᗰᗴᒪIᑎᗴ:

ᗪᗩYՏ ᗷᗴᖴOᖇᗴ Tᕼᗴ s̠҉͍͊ͅḿ̬̏ͤͅo̯̱̊͊͢ḳ̯͍̑ͦẹ̿͋̒̕

ᑭᒪᗩᑎᗴT:

4558 ᗩᒪՏO KᑎOᗯᑎ ᗩՏ ᕼOᑎᗴY ᑕOᗰᗷ

ᖇᗴՏIᗪᗴᑎTՏ: ᗷᗴᗴՏ ( ᕼOᑎᗴY ᗷᗴᗴՏ, ᒍᗩᑭᗩᑎᗴՏᗴ ᗷᗴᗴՏ ᗴTᑕ. ) , ᗯᗩՏᑭ ( ᒍᗩᑭᗩᑎᗴՏᗴ ᗯᗩՏᑭ, YᗴᒪᒪOᗯ ᒍᗩᑕKՏ ᗴTᑕ. ), ᕼOᖇᑎᗴTՏ ( ᒍᗩᑭᗩᑎᗴՏᗴ ᕼOᖇᑎᗴT , ᗩՏIᗩᑎ ᕼOᖇᑎᗴT ᗴTᑕ. )

( ⏁⊑⟒ ⊑⍜⎍⍀ ⍜⎎ ⟊⍜⊬ ⍙⟟⌰⌰ ☊⍜⋔⟒)

" my queen, " a person spoke,they looked like a wasp with armor holding a clipboard " the workers of hour cities seems to be... "

" sad and isn't making enough money? " another guard finished the sentence,

" yes that, it is effecting our economy, not to mention there is a newly red smoke coming in and out making some of the people addicted, we had to either restraint them or.. ᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. That is all we have today " the wasp finished their report

" ... I don't care about the workers health.. If they don't start working kill them off or threaten them as for the red smoke... Let our researches figure that out understood? "

" yes my queen " the two guards then flew out the throne room

"..dr.keith? " the queen called out, " yes my majesty " a hornet answered, " gather all the red smoke and take it to honeycomb. Labs for research "

The queen the picked up a small picture frame, " oh my child, once you come of age I promise you won't live with the commoners again.. "

" yes queen crystal " and like that the hornet left the room leaving the queen all alone

( ⌇⏃⎅ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⌇⊑⟒ ⊑⏃⎅ ⏁⍜ ☌⟟⎐⟒ ⎍⌿ ⊑⟒⍀ ☊⊑⟟⌰⎅)

Sweet bee was roaming the streets with her friends being greeted by a few citizens that know her, the small bee flew in the air as she sometimes collected pollen from the huge flowers

" good morning sweet bee, good to see you at work today " a bumblebee flew upon a petal of the flower sweet bee was taking pollen from

" ☌⍜⍜⎅ ⎅⏃⊬ ⏁⍜ ⊬⍜⎍ ⏁⍜⍜ ⏁⟒�� " bee replied happily, " sweet bee your really lucky that this whole planet speaks that language or else nobody would know the hell your saying " tee answered laughing

" anyways I have to deliver this smoke barrel to the lab, see ya bee " and just like that tee flew off as sweet bee waved her a goodbye

Sweet bee roamed some more, collecting pollen from different flowers while getting lost, seeing different creatures.. R⃠e⃠d⃠ s⃠m⃠o⃠k⃠e⃠ i⃠n⃠v⃠a⃠d⃠i⃠n⃠g⃠

She really loved her home, especially sugar cube square, speaking of that building she entered it to deposit all the pollen she collected

" ah good morning sweet bee, here to deposit the pollen you collected? " asked a honey bee working for the building

Sweet bee nodded as she took out 45kg of pollen, " wow bee that's allot, good job "

Sweet bee eyes light up happily, she really doesn't understand the job only the praise she gets if she does the right thing

As the pollen bags got taken away sweet bee existed the building heading to the town square

Walking around she spotted her friend Maya ( if you watch that tv show as a child were now besties)

" hi sweet bee " Maya hugged her friend

" ⊑⟟ ⋔⏃⊬⏃, ⏃⍀⟒ ⊬⍜⎍ ⎎⟟⋏⏃⌰⌰⊬ ⌇⏁⏃⊬⟟⋏☌? " sweet bee asked

" yeah I have to, after all I can't explore any further because of some weird red smoke invading th- what's that.. " Maya eyes widen as a gigantic space ship of some sort approach the city, a dark shadow cover the town square as alarm bells sound off

Sweet bee was confused but happy while the other citizens panicked around and stared at it in bright confusion

"What is that? " a guard yelled as they swam the streets with their armor, " a better yet question is...

Who is running that space ship?

( eyy part one is done, sorry if it's short, I decided bees backstory should be done in parts)

#smiling critters #poppy playtime au #space riders au #space riders #smiling critters poppy playtime #backstory

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