#WE ARE LIKE A LITTLE UNDER A WEEK AWAY UNTIL WE CAN SEEN THEM MOVING AND TALKING FOR EXTENDED PERIODS OF TIME PER WEEK

[akkivee]

THEYRE FAMILY

[literaila]

keeping secrets

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you and satoru avoid each other

warnings: actual fighting, sad everyone, hurt/little comfort (sorry)

last part | next part

*

year four.

"did megumi give you a permission slip?" you ask satoru, leaning against the side of the couch, peeking at his phone. "it's for a field trip, but i haven't seen it. he says he set it on the counter." 

satoru glances at you. then back, and shakes his head. 

"he didn't give you anything to sign?" 

"not recently." 

you sigh. "i don't think he lost it." 

satoru's lip quirks. "you think i'm hiding it?" 

"i don't know. did you accidentally eat it?" 

his eyes roll. "i have better taste than that." 

"well, can you help me look for it?" 

satoru sighs, head hanging back for a moment, then he throws his phone down, groaning as he stands up. after he stretches, he half-heartedly moves a pillow, pretending to look under it. 

you snort. 

but satoru doesn't look back at you, and moves to the table, to look at the stack of papers there. 

and, admittedly, things have been a bit off. 

you tried to ignore it at first--ignore the way satoru avoided your eyes, or kept himself five feet away from you at all times. you tried to pretend that it wasn't happening. that he wasn't giving you short responses, or only joking with you in dire moments (like when something you say goes over both of the kid's heads and they stare at you weirdly).

honestly, you hadn't even noticed anything was wrong until you'd realized that it'd been a week since he fell asleep with you. since he even bothered to come out of his room after putting the kids to bed. a week since he tried to squeeze you to death, or grossly kissed your cheek. 

and... it shouldn't be weird.

no rule says that he has to spend a specific amount of time with you, or cuddle in your bed, or smile at you, or... do anything that your best friend probably shouldnt do. 

but it's weird. 

it's strange because your relationship with satoru has stayed relatively consistent, an upward slope for the past six years. you've grown closer, but never farther. 

and, in the depths of your mind, usually when you're lying awake at night, you recognize that there's one single moment when it switched. that everything changed a specific morning, and you haven't been able to rewind it. to take it all back. 

and you could just blame the alcohol for your confession, you probably should. 

but then you'd also have to blame your sixteen-year-old self, the girl who'd been attracted to satoru in the first place. the eighteen-year-old who agreed to tie her life to his and take in the kids, or you now, still cursing yourself for falling in love with him.

it's not like satoru made you. 

if intoxication is to blame, so is your heart, your soul, for starting all of this in the first place. 

you'd decided to not blame anything at all, in the end. everything's fine. 

"find anything?" you ask him, a bit cold in the room, feeling that same tension that's been there. those unspoken words, infinite amounts of distance.

you try to ignore it, really. 

"just the receipt for tsumiki's violin." 

"tsumiki's what?" you ask, blinking at him. 

"i didn't tell you about that?" 

"satoru, you can't just buy them things on a whim--" 

he holds a hand up, stopping you. "she said it was for school," he says, giving you a quick grin. "plus, she's pretty good." 

"there's no way she's good." 

"you'll see," he says, "when we go to her recital." 

"what?" 

satoru shrugs, then he turns around, organizing the piles of papers into neat stacks. it almost makes you want to check him for a spider bite, a fever, remnants of poison. no way your satoru is doing that. 

not that he's yours. he hasn't been yours in years, hasn't been your anything ever. 

"oh, here," he says, eventually, handing you a paper which he already signed--of course--and shaking his head. "museums," he grumbles. 

but he doesn't give you the chance to respond, turning to walk down the hall--towards his room--before you can even chide him for forgetting about it. 

so, yeah. things are fine. 

*

"where's gojo?" megumi asks, as the two of you walk through the door.

the house is empty without satoru there. colder, dimmer. and, of course, there's no one to irritate the boy right when he walks in. 

you try not to wince at the question, or spiral into your own question of 'where's gojo?'

"uh," you lock the door, then unlock it. then lock it again. "he's on another job." 

"again?" 

you give megumi a bland smile, taking his backpack from him. "guess they think he needs more practice," you say, trying to tease. 

it falls flat. 

"did he get in trouble?" 

"i don't know," you shrug. "probably." 

honestly, it's not like you would know anyway. satoru doesn't tell you anything these days. 

it's probably what bothers you the most, because if he's not saying anything, then neither can you. you can't ask him what he thinks about tsumiki's new friend, or if megumi should be eating more, or if you're just making everything up, probably going insane--

"when's he going to be back?" 

"he said probably tomorrow. maybe the day after if it takes longer. i can't remember where they sent him..." 

megumi looks mischievous. his eyes are bright. "so we can make those miso brownies? since he's gone?" 

you laugh, ruffling his hair. "sure, when tsumiki gets home." 

he nods, satisfied, and turns around. then he looks back at you, eyes trailing over your expression. 

megumi looks at you quizzically, like he knows something you don't. "do you miss him?" 

you roll your eyes. "do you miss him, megumi?" 

he doesn't even think about it. "true," he says, then walks into the kitchen, grabbing something from the fridge. 

maybe you miss him, you think, but only a little bit. it's not like he's been gone long. 

just, you know, forever. 

*

"hey," you lean against the desk in the office. satoru must be filling out a report, which should make you blink twice, but really it's him being out in the open that surprises you. 

most days he goes to hide in his room. he locks his door and makes sure that you wouldn't dare to walk through. that you have no means to interrupt his solitude. 

"oh, hey," satoru answers, not bothering to look up at you. his voice is low, familiar, and creates goosebumps on your skin. 

seriously, why is it so cold in this house? 

"i'm surprised those haven't gone missing yet," you gesture toward the papers, trying to be casual.

he snorts. "yaga said that if i lost them again, i was fired." 

"he said that two years ago." 

satoru nods, still scribbling. you want more than anything to just see his eyes for a moment, for him to look at you and grin like you're used to. 

but you know he won't, so you tap your fingers against the desk. "do you have a second?" 

"sure. what's up? megumi do something?" 

"no, the kids are fine, i, um--" you pause. it feels ridiculous to have to ask him this, to not know the answer. it feels ridiculous to be nervous around satoru. you haven't felt anxious, or worried about asking him anything since you were sixteen and realized that it didn't matter. "shoko texted me about that work 'meeting' that's happening on friday. do you want to go to that? i just need to know so i can tell her..." 

"meeting?" 

your smile is teasing, not that he's looking. "i think she meant party." 

"on friday?" 

"yeah. she said that the booze is free, and i think nanami's going, so i thought..." you hint, not even sure what you mean. 

i thought we could talk. i thought we could go together and maybe everything would go back to normal. i thought that we were friends, if anything, and that you cared about me--

satoru hums. "what about the kids?" 

"tsumiki has a birthday party that night, and megumi likes the sitter from last time," you wince at your accidental mention of that night. "or he can come, i guess, but he'd probably hate it." 

satoru snorts, nodding in agreement. you watch his hands freeze, then resume. 

he's thinking the same things you are, you know. he's thinking about how stupid you are, how ridiculous it is to imagine him being in love with you, caring about who you are or how you feel. 

you just know it. 

"so..." you whisper, after a second. "do you want to go?" 

you feel like you're standing on uneven ground. how can this be the only real conversation you've had with satoru this week? 

how can you miss him this much when he's literally right there? 

"i don't--" satoru makes a face, finally looking toward you. he sets down the pen. "i don't think so. but you can go and i can stay here with megumi," he suggests easily like he's not rejecting you. "we can have a guy's night." 

"megumi hates guy's nights." 

satoru has a cheeky grin on, but it's half-hearted. barely there. 

like a glimpse of him in a peephole, a moment where he's not hiding completely from you. 

he doesn't say anything, though. he doesn't even bother to come up with a better excuse. 

it's clear as day that he just doesn't want to hang out with you, even in a crowd of people.

"that's okay," you hum, eventually, trying to keep your voice steady. "i don't really--" 

"no, you should go. you haven't seen nanami in a while. you can have a night out," he says genuinely, but it sounds more like i need a break from you. 

"yeah," you try to laugh. "i--um, okay. if you're sure." 

he nods, looking away again. he hasn't touched you in weeks. your skin is almost molding, going completely stale. "i'm sure. we'll order dinner, so you don't have to worry about the brat complaining." 

"okay." 

"okay," satoru answers, but it doesn't mean anything. 

and it's not okay. 

*

the two of them walk through the door, and megumi looks... pleasant. he's got the makings of a smile on his face, a little jump in his step. 

it's one of the only times you've seen him look like the ten-year-old he is, instead of someone who's concerned about economic collapse. 

it makes you smile a bit, even if just the sight of satoru sends pangs down your chest.

"hey," you say, hand on his head as he lingers by you, eyes meeting yours in greeting. you look to satoru, who's pretending to wipe away a smudge on his glasses. "where were you guys?" 

"we were--" 

"gojo took me to that old hospital by my school," megumi says, "there were cursed spirits hanging outside. he let me and my divine dogs deal with them," he says this almost excitedly--as excited as megumi gets--and you can see it in his eyes. that little twinkle of pride. 

your eyes widen, but you smile, trying to be genuine. it's difficult because you've been lying for weeks. "really?" you ask, trying not to look over at satoru accusingly. "how'd it go?" 

"good," megumi, moves to the sink, washing his hands. "they're getting better at scenting them out. it didn't take long." 

"that's great." 

"megumi didn't need any of my help," satoru adds, giving you a short glance. "he's got good intuition." 

megumi looks at satoru with a glare in his eyes, but you can tell that he appreciates the compliment. 

you can tell that he's completely fine with this, that the two of them are going to act like it's normal, but you can't.

you try to ignore it when megumi looks between you and satoru, a slight furrow in his brows. he knows something wrong, you know. but you're not going to admit that. 

you swallow. "do you have any homework you need to finish, megs?" 

"uh..." he pauses. "i think so. reading?" 

you smile, hand on his back as you lead him out of the room. "okay, how about you go work on that? i need to talk to satoru real quick." 

he nods immediately, looking eager to leave--both the room and the tension. 

as soon as he's gone, you turn to satoru, narrowed eyes as you observe him. he's already smiling because he knows that he's in trouble. because he knows that you're angry. 

because, even if he hasn't actually spoken to you in weeks, satoru has always read you so well. he's always known what you're going to say before you say it. 

but you can't care about it. it doesn't mean anything to him. 

“you can’t do that,” you say, almost whispering. “not without asking me.” 

“i knew you’d say no.” 

you laugh, looking away from him. “exactly.”

“he’s fine,” satoru reassures. he shrugs, because why should he care about your concern? “he did good, and there’s not a scratch on him. i’m sorry for not telling you but—“ 

“no buts, satoru. you can’t take megumi out on missions like he’s a student. he’s not. and you definitely can’t do it without even telling me," there's a burning in your chest. your head is clouded over with anger. 

just looking at him--at his ridiculous smile and stupid perfect face--makes you clench your fists.

how can he stand there and act like you're a team? 

“it’s not a big deal. i was there the whole time—and he didn’t need me.” 

“i don’t care!” 

satoru rolls his eyes, his arms crossed. “i think you’re overreacting.” 

“i’m not," you say, trying to get him to look at you--actually look--but he won't. it makes your chest hurt even more. "you’re not telling me things—fine, whatever, keep whatever secrets you want, gojo. don't bother talking to me. but you can’t keep secrets from me about the kids.” 

“secrets? i’m not—“ 

you shake your head, hands in the air, trying to clear all of it away. you want the past month to go away, the past six years. “megumi’s just a kid. he’s ten. he can’t be going on missions, not until he’s ready.” 

“i think i’ve already proved how ready he is.” 

“well, maybe i'm not ready. he’s a kid.” 

“yeah,” satoru says, obviously. he scoffs. “yeah, he’s a kid. but he’s also a jujutsu sorcerer. you can’t separate the two.” 

his voice is all-knowing and his stance is firm. you know that you won't convince him otherwise--know that he's right, to some degree, but this isn't about megumi. 

this isn't about cursed spirits or jujutsu. 

“yes, you can," you say, clenching your jaw. "he doesn’t need to be seeing that shit right now. not until he decides he wants to. practice his technique with him all you want, but you can’t just take him to exorcise a curse with you.” 

“like i said, he’s fine.” 

“it’s not about that! it’s about you doing something reckless—again—and acting like there aren’t any consequences to your decisions. he’s my son,” you hiss, “he shouldn’t be going anywhere i don’t know about. you shouldn’t be making decisions about him behind my back.”

you shouldn't be pushing me away, you shouldn't be ruining this--

“so you want to lock him up here?" satoru asks, laughing at you. his teeth are sharp and he is still. "you want to take away his ability to defend himself?” 

you scoff. “are you kidding? you think me saying i don’t want you to get him killed is equal to me—“ 

“he was fine. if anything—anything—had been there that megumi couldn’t handle, i would’ve taken care of it. i wasn't going to let anyone touch him. that’s why i was there! and he didn’t even need me," he's boasting, swearing to you--you can feel it as he rolls his eyes at you.

“you know what he needs, satoru? he needs you to treat him like he’s a little boy and not some experiment for you to play with.” 

“i would never—“ 

you cut him off, “bringing him out into the open, where anyone could see him, could hurt him, and making him deal with your cursed spirit is not okay.” 

“i didn’t make him deal with anything," satoru swears, chin up. 

you snort. the two of you are standing in front of each other, arms crossed, head guarded. your muscles are tense like something is about to attack you. “oh, so he asked you to go?” 

“well, no, but—“ 

“then you made him! you put him up against a monster and treated him like a student, like a 16-year-old, and not your son.” 

the words feel nice to say. some version of the truth that's much better than whatever this version is. if satoru won't talk to you, you'll talk for him. 

you'll make every assumption, every bad perception (because he's supposed to keep you from worrying, he's supposed to be there to calm you down, to save you from that spiraling). but if he's not going to try, neither will you. 

satoru’s eyes grow hard. “what?” 

“why can’t you just let him be a kid? why do you have to push him into these things—“ 

“we talked with megumi about who he is,” satoru grinds, “he knows about the privilege of his strength, and the fact that he has to work to use it—“ 

“a ten-year-old shouldn’t have to work for anything!” 

he laughs at you. you can't see his eyes, but you watch his face as he tries to hide his expression, trying to keep his voice low. the kids are still in the house, so you shouldn't be yelling. but you can't bring it in yourself to really care. 

“what do you think the point of him living here was? why do you think we took him in?” 

you gape at him. “are you kidding?” you ask. “are you serious? we took him, and tsumiki, in because you’re responsible for killing their father! because they didn’t have anyone else, and that’s your fault.” 

“you think i don’t know that?” 

“well, i thought you did," you say, stepping away from him. some part of you wants to push him out, make him leave. the other part desperately wants him to stay--to say he's sorry. "but you just said that the only reason megumi is here is so you can teach him! when i agreed to this i thought you were facing the consequences of your actions, doing the right thing for those kids because you could. i thought you wanted to take care of them! to keep them away from our awful, messed up world.” 

satoru is staring at you with his jaw clenched. 

you continue, without consideration for the consequences of your words. “i didn’t think that you only wanted to keep megumi here so you could train him, like a dog.” 

“that’s not what i said.” 

you shake your head, a bitter smile on your face. “well it’s what you meant, and clearly you have no regard for his feelings or the way that curses might affect him—“ 

“don’t act like i did it just to mess with him," he interrupts, harshly. "it’s not a joke. i want him to be strong, i want him to be able to take care of himself—“ 

“and i want him to have a dad who isn’t so selfish!” 

“what?” 

“did you even think about it? what about the nightmares he’s going to have?" you wonder, rhetorically. "what about the fact that he’s different—that he’s already struggling to relate to other kids in school? what about him, satoru? why is it only about you?” 

what about me? you don't say. 

“i didn’t bring him for me—“ 

“you want a replacement. you want someone else to deal with everything, while you sit back and watch. i know what you’re trying to do—“

“really?" he points at you, the other hand clenched in the air. he's laughing again. "you can read my mind? you’ve already been let in on my plans—“ 

“don’t you wish that you’d had the opportunity to be just a kid?” you demand. “don’t you want that for megumi?” 

he shrugs. “sure. but it’s never going to happen.” 

“well, clearly, because you won’t let it.” 

“he gets to be a kid every day. god forbid i take him to see one curse, to understand how to use his powers, to protect himself, and you treat me like i wanted to kill him.” 

you laugh. your mind is a minefield, and everything he says ruins another part of it. 

all you can think about is him, him as a teenager, him with you, telling satoru you love him and him having nothing left to say--

but you scoff again, shoving yourself further away from him. “do you know how many times i’ve wanted to go back to when i was ten and just got to live my life? do you know how often i think about how everything could’ve been different?” 

“this isn’t about us."

“yes, it is. it is, satoru, because i didn’t get that chance and neither did you. and you just took away megumi’s chance.” 

“i didn’t take anything away," he says, softly, like he's trying to convince himself. 

clearly, you've struck a nerve. 

“he’s never going to be able to look at the world normally, but he doesn’t need the burden of saving people before he’s even in middle school.” 

“why is being strong so bad?” satoru asks you, demanding something more. why am i so bad? “why do you treat it like it’s a curse? like it’s going to hurt him?”

“look at you!” you respond. “look at suguru, and me, and shoko! look at any jujutsu sorcerer and ask them if being strong is worth it—is worth screwing your life over.”

satoru looks taken aback. he steps away from you. 

“god, it’s like you think that we’re a different species," you tell him, never having felt like it's more true. "you’re human, satoru. you might be the strongest, but you’re still human, and you still have nightmares like all of the rest of us.” 

he shakes his head at you. 

“why do you want that for megumi? why push him into this right now?” 

“i want him to be able to take care of himself. so that he doesn’t die like our colleagues, so that he doesn’t make the wrong choice like—“ 

he stops, his voice breaking before he can continue. 

and maybe you know what this is really about, but if satoru doesn’t want to tell you how he feels, if he wants to pretend like it doesn’t matter— 

fine. you will too. 

“it wouldn’t make a difference. he’s already—his life is already messed up.” 

satoru looks at you, his eyes ablaze. “don’t you think that if i was him, if i could’ve been stronger, if i could’ve saved all of those people—don’t you think i would do it in an instant? don’t you think i know that because i wasn’t strong enough, people died?” 

this is the thing you've feared since you were eighteen, a brand new person responsible for two little lives. you've feared satoru's moral commitment since before you met him. since you saw him destroy a curse in an instant and realized he was different than everyone else. 

“megumi isn’t you! he doesn’t need to be taught to take on the responsibility of everyone’s lives—“ 

“you can’t say that i’m selfish, that i don’t care, and then say that i care too much,” he says, shaking his head, unable to look at you. 

he hasn't been able to look you in the eye in weeks. 

“you’re both!" you say, almost yelling. "you’re everything. and you don’t think! you haven’t thought for a moment about what megumi might be feeling, who he might want to be—“ 

“and you have? what about what you want him to be?” 

“i want him to be happy! i want him to grow up better than i ever did. i don’t want him chasing a bunch of cursed spirits around on the weekend like it’s a normal thing—“ 

“it is normal. for us, it’s normal. for him, it’s normal.” 

you sigh, a weight on your chest, a burning in your throat. “well, maybe it shouldn’t be.” 

you're not going to start crying now. not with satoru watching, not when he gets to know just how much you care. 

satoru scoffs. “so you’d just have everyone defend themselves--" 

"i don't know how you're arrogant enough to believe that you can save everyone--"

"--you’d just forget that we’re strong for a reason, that we--“ 

“but you’re never going to be strong enough, satoru. never.” 

satoru stares at you. he doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t hesitate, and doesn’t bother to argue. 

and after a moment he turns around. you reach your hand out to grab him--hold onto him and keep him here, because this isn't finished, and you're not done with him. you haven't even started. 

but you run into a wall. you look down and your hand is dangling idly in front of his arm, stuck in the air. 

you can't see satoru's eyes, but you can feel his heart--your heart--as it skips a beat in realization. 

but then satoru shakes you off, pushes you infinitely farther away from infinity, and keeps going. 

he walks out the door, slamming it shut.

you stand there for a moment, watching. you wait for the door to open again, for satoru to come back, for him to laugh--tell you that everything's fine, that it'll all be fine. that it's okay if you're angry, that he doesn't care. 

but after a minute, he doesn't return. 

and after another, you have to lean against the counter. your hand burns--but maybe that's just your imagination. you're pretty sure that infinity has no drawbacks, that there's no consequence for touching, for not touching satoru. 

pretty sure. 

but you still look over your skin, trying to see if he's left some mark. it would be nice to have some evidence of what he's done to you. you clench your fist, but the feeling doesn't go away. 

and maybe it's not your hand. maybe it's your chest. maybe it's these weeks of feeling separated, feeling miles apart from him, feeling like it's all your fault that any of this has happened. 

you... you can't even remember what you were arguing about. 

you feel like a kid again, hiding yourself in your room just so your parents don't have to deal with you. you feel like that little girl who hid in the cupboards, trying to escape the monsters that no one else could see. you feel like that smaller, reckless version of yourself that left home at the first chance, who knew she wasn't allowed back. 

are you allowed here? you wonder. is it going to happen again? are these monsters--real and fake--too much for your family to handle again? 

you exhale, trying to catch your breath again. none of this feels right, normal, easy. 

should you--should you call him? should you wait for him to come back? 

is he going to come back? 

the slam of the door is still echoing throughout the house when they creep down the hallway, making sure their footsteps are soft, but also loud enough for you to hear. 

maybe you've only been standing there, waiting for satoru to turn around, for thirty seconds. 

but it feels like an hour. 

"mom?" a tiny voice asks, and both of them are turning around the corner, taking hesitant steps towards you. 

you have to swallow. you need some water, an icepack maybe, to get rid of the burning feeling in your throat. the telltale signs that you're going to cry--that you've suffered blows to the core, and you can't backtrack now. 

but you don't want to cry in front of them. you refuse to. if you didn't want to cry in front of satoru, you won't cry in front of the kids. 

so you turn around, swallow again, and fill a glass of water. 

you chug it down, wanting it to wash away that feeling, that ache. 

you can't say anything just yet because then you'll actually fall apart. 

megumi and tsumiki watch you, both of them silent as they wait for your direction. for some solution you should have. 

you take a deep breath, then turn, almost faltering when you see the worried look on both of their faces, the concern in their eyes. neither of them should have to worry about this. 

god, how could you forget that they were there? that they could hear everything? 

how could you make another mistake? 

"hey, guys," you say, clearing your throat. you want to be nonchalant, and casual, but you've never been either a day in your life. 

"where did gojo go?" 

"i, um," you take another sip of water, because that feeling crawls up your throat, makes itself known again. "i think he went on a walk." 

"is he okay?" tsumiki asks. 

"are you okay?" megumi follows. 

"yeah, he's fine. he's good. i--he just needed some space, you know? um... a break." 

"from us?" 

your eyes widen. "no, no, no. of course not, never you guys. he's... just been busy this week. working a lot. and, i, well, he's good. we're good." 

megumi leans on the counter next to you, looking at you very closely. "are you okay?" he repeats. 

"i'm good, megs. it's..." you smile. "it's fine. um, did satoru get you anything to eat while you were out? i'm not sure what we've got, but i can make something if you--" 

"when is he going to be back?" 

you stop, sighing. you shouldn't have taught either of them how to read emotions, or how to eavesdrop. you shouldn't be speaking to anyone, or trusted with anything. 

"i'm not sure, buddy. he'll be back when he's ready." 

"is he going to stay out all night?" tsumiki asks, worried. 

"no, i'm sure--" you stop again. "gojo will be back in time for bed, okay?" 

they're both staring at you, waiting for you to say something profound, something to make it actually okay. 

but you have nothing. is satoru going to come back? is he going to stay somewhere else? you know he'll exhaust himself just to avoid coming home-- 

this is why you shouldn't have moved in--

this is why you never should've agreed to this, allowed himself to burrow a hole in your heart, in your soul-- 

"hey," megumi takes a step towards you. and then, before you can blink the tears out of your eyes, reassure him that it's fine, his arms are around your waist. 

he nuzzles his face into your side, squeezing tighter than you thought a little boy could. 

theres only a second of this before tsumiki's on your other side, and squeezing just as hard. 

your hands fall on both of their backs, and you take a breath that feels more like never breathing again. your lungs won't fill, and your chest is incomplete

but they stand there with you, and eventually, your heart begins to match theirs, and their little hands keep you together. 

you can't cry, but you really want to. 

*

satoru's entire body feels different. 

he knows what it's lacking, the changes he's made in a short period of time--giving himself no time to acclimate, no pause where he slowly adapts to the differences. 

he misses you. 

it's been like this before--when suguru left and satoru couldn't bear to look at himself in the mirror, nonetheless you in the eyes--but it's never felt so severe. 

because you're right there. you've been there every day, waking him up, making the kids breakfast, laughing when megumi bullies him, smiling at tsumiki's attempts at mediating. 

you're there in the morning, in the afternoon, and every night. you're right there for him--and he can't say a word. 

he doesn't want this, this thing to be real. 

denial is his favorite emotion, and recently, he can't even muster the strength to go through with it.

and now, he feels even more hopeless, lacking, never ever enough. 

but he walks through the door because he has nowhere else to go. he has no other home--besides the three of you. 

it's dark outside when he comes back, and the door is unlocked, so he knows that you've been waiting. that you had to deal with the aftermath of shouted voices and scared children who he felt lurking behind a wall before he got the chance to think about any of it.

he needs to talk to you. satoru knows that, he really does. but he's not sure what to say. 

he could apologize for tonight--could tell you that he won't make any more decisions, that he won't wreck this thing you've built--but it's not enough. 

he should probably apologize for the last seven years. for letting himself grow attached to you, and then continue to hold you at arms length. he should probably apologize for being himself, for being less than he could be. 

but those words feel too rotten to say aloud. 

so, when he walks up to your door, waiting to feel your obvious presence--to see it, like he always does, the wall of cursed energy that you are--he feels like running away again. 

you don't even need to know that he's home. satoru could go to bed, and he could probably pretend that nothing happened in the morning and you would follow along. 

but he doesn't want to do that. not to you. 

and he needs to see you, needs to say something before he figures it all out--should he leave, or stay? should he continue to push you away to protect you? should he tell you all of it? 

it doesn't matter, he knows, because he probably won't be able to do any of it. 

and for the first time in years, satoru makes sure to knock before he opens your door. just a small repetition of his knuckles, but he might as well be breaking down a tradition. 

there's no answer, but he's not waiting, so he creaks the door open, looking for you immediately. 

and he sees you, lying in bed. 

and he sees your shoulders shaking slightly, with you curled up in the fetal position, and he can hear the sniffle before the door is all the way open. 

there's no choice, he knows. he's not going to let you cry yourself to sleep without saying anything. he's not going to leave you alone. 

you don't turn around, but satoru knows that you must know he's there. he walks across the floor, sitting at the edge of your bed, waiting for you to turn to him. 

and yell, maybe. tell him to leave again. tell him that you don't want to look at him anymore. 

but you don't move. your shaking is slightly stifled, and satoru can tell that you're trying to keep your breathing low, to keep him from noticing you cry. 

it's foolish, really, because satoru hasn't missed a single detail about you since he was seventeen. 

he doesn't say anything, but it's a natural reflex to tap your legs, to stand and slip off his shoes, gently pushing you off of the edge of the bed, towards the middle. 

and then he's laying there, curling his limbs around yours, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him. 

immediately, there's a release somewhere inside of him. that yearning--that ridiculous need is finally satiated. 

satoru swallows. he needs to say something, he knows, but he's not sure what. should he apologize right now? should he tell you that he hates it when you cry--that he never feels more desperate to be more than in moments like this? 

should he whisper that he loves you, just to get it off his chest? 

but you cough, body shuttering as you relax into him, never pushing him away. and your voice is so small when you say, "you can't leave." 

satoru feels the pieces of him crack into even more. 

he tries to hold you tighter, but you move in his hold, turning so that you're facing him, and you nuzzle your face into his neck--trying to hide, but making sure that he's there. 

your hands cling onto him, leaving marks.

he can feel your tears against his skin, your entire body on overdrive. 

"you can't leave," you repeat, voice breaking. satoru feels it against the very outline of his soul. 

"okay," he says, quickly. "i won't." 

"i can't lose you too." 

he pales, body going still. his heart might stop for a moment. "you won't. i'm not going anywhere." he sighs. "i'm sorry." 

"i can't--" you're still crying, and you begin to shake again. "i can't do this without you. i won't." 

"you don't have to." 

"you can't leave, satoru," you say, leaning up to meet his eyes--yours glistening with years full of hurt, a lifetime of secrets and unsaid words. "please don't leave." 

"i won't," he repeats, feeling a bit desperate. what can he say to prove to you that he's not like everyone else? that he would trap you within his atoms, if he could? that he would stay in this bed, holding you, even if it meant nothing, forever? 

there's nothing, he knows. nothing but the truth. but that doesn't come out--it can't, now. it's not the right time. 

so instead, satoru wipes the tears from your face, even though they're replaced immediately, your breath coming in short, short bursts. he wraps his arm around your back, pulling you back to him again. 

"i'm sorry," you whisper against his skin, so quietly that he can barely hear it. 

"i'm not going anywhere," he answers. 

and, just for tonight, it's enough. 

he'll fix the rest of it tomorrow. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {8}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Your due date approaches but that’s not the only thing that’s been a long time coming Warnings: 18+ only, fluff WC: 2.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine

Round 4 - Japanese GP

“I think I’m in love,” you moaned happily.

“I should hope so,” Lando commented dryly, making Charles laugh.

“She’s not talking about us, mon cher.”

You patted the vending machine full of the greatest snacks you had ever tasted. “Ignore them, it’s just you and me, now take my money.”

“Are we going to karaoke?” Pierre asked, checking his phone to see the time. “Yuki and Daniel are already there.”

“Shh, let the pregnant woman eat,” his girlfriend reprimanded. “She’s growing a whole human in there.”

“Thank you, Kika.” You sent her a grateful smile before throwing your middle finger in Pierre’s direction. The machine whirred and you turned back to see mechanical arms moving your choice down to the little door. “I just need a few more.”

“She’s stalling because she knows she sucks at singing when she’s sober,” Max joked before pulling out his wallet and going to the next machine. “What else do you want?”

Everyone caught onto Max’s idea and lined up along the alley of vending machines and within minutes there were enough snacks to last you the night, plus one huge Pokémon stuffed animal that Pierre chose for the baby. You could barely wrap your arms around the teddy and you narrowed your eyes at your old teammate. “Out of all of the Pokémon you chose…Squirtle?”

His grin widened until his laughter broke through. “What’s wrong with Squirtle? Everyone loves a big squirtle.”

“You’re so immature,” you tried to say with a straight face but it failed as you giggled. “This is going in my bed when I get home. It’s going to be my snuggler when I’m abandoned.”

“We aren’t abandoning you, mon amour. Everyone agreed it’s too close to your due date to come to China.”

You didn’t like it, but it was the truth. You were lucky to even get away with coming to Japan since you were already 37 weeks pregnant. At least there was a two week gap between the races so you would have some time with Lando and Charles before they left for the next race.

“And your mother will be there, so you definitely aren’t abandoned,” Lando pointed out. He took the teddy from you so you could better see where you were walking and tucked it under one arm so he could still hold your hand. “Max has already given us his plane so we can get back if we need to.”

“I have?” Max cocked a brow.

“You may have been drunk when you said it, but there were witnesses.”

Max scratched his head in confusion but he couldn’t recall the memory. Shrugging, he wasn’t really bothered, he would have offered for them use it anyway. “Who’s your reserve if you have to go?”

“Ollie and Pato,” Charles answered. “My baby is in good hands if we miss the race. Lando is a little more worried.”

“Not of Pato, I’ve seen him in testing,” Lando countered. “I just don’t like sharing.” Everyone looked pointedly between you and your boyfriends. “Har-har, I meant my seat, assholes.”

You eventually made it to the karaoke bar and Yuki growled at everyone for being late, except you. You got a tight hug and a strong whiff of alcohol on his breath.

“I didn’t know what you felt like, so I got a bit of everything,” he said as he pointed to the side table full of snacks and non alcoholic drinks. Pierre reached out for a pack of biscuits but Yuki slapped his hand away. “Not for you motherfuckers. Get your own.”

The annual karaoke had grown over the years and you weren’t sure if it was better when you were sober or not. On one hand you nearly wet yourself laughing at how terrible everyone sounded but on the other your ears were almost bleeding by the time they were too drunk to continue. Crashing out onto the hotel bed never felt so good when you finally got back after midnight. Thankfully it was only going to be media day for the guys so they could sleep off their hangovers.

You combed your fingers through Lando’s hair as he spawned out next to you, soft snores falling from his open mouth. A smile played at your lips and Charles chuckled beside you. “Go on,” he said as he nudged you gently. “Say it.”

You couldn’t resist and he knew it. “It’s all too much for Little Lando Norris.”

“Not little,” Lando grumbled.

“You were asleep a second ago.”

“Wasn’t asleep, just resting my eyes.”

“Such a dad thing to say,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek as his breathing evened out and he was asleep once more. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

“You should try to rest too,” Charles murmured as he settled into his pillow and opened his arms for you, his bleary eyes struggling to stay open.

“I will.” You would try to at least, but finding a comfortable position grew harder each day. “I love you.”

“Je t’aime aussi. De beaux rêves.”

He was asleep before you could even reply and you soon followed.

The need to go to the toilet once again woke you and you found Charles' space in the bed empty. After relieving yourself, you followed the light in the living room to see the curtains swaying softly in the breeze.

Charles stood on the balcony overlooking the city, his fingers idly running his matching trinity necklace along its chain. It was only as you got closer you saw his eyes weren’t on the city below but the dark skies above and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head between his shoulder blades.

“What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He turned and leaned back against the rail, his hands coming to rest on the impossibly large swell of your stomach. You placed your hands over Charles’ and guided them to where the action was happening against your ribs, a nice reprieve from being kicked in the bladder. You couldn’t get much bigger before you popped and the stretch marks already showed the strain the pregnancy was having on your body.

“I wish Jules was here to see this.”

You hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting the driver but from what Charles had said it would have been hard not to love the charismatic person he described. “I’m sure he would be proud of you. I am. Have you thought any more about her name?”

Charles chewed his lip before sighing. “No, I want something new. I don’t want her to be pressured by the weight of the name she carries.”

You could completely understand how a name changed everything and nodded. “Okay, I’ll cross Julia off the list.”

“And Landa.”

You wrinkled your nose in distaste. “That was never on my list. I don’t know why you didn’t shut that idea down right away.”

Charles chuckled and kissed your nose. “Because it’s funny, mon amour. He actually thought it had a real chance.”

“Our hopeless dreamer,” you sighed, resting your head on his chest as you yawned.

There wasn’t much time left to narrow down the list of first names but a compromise had been found with the last name. To make it fair, they decided if it was clear Lando was the biological father then Charles' last name would go first and vice-versa. If it wasn’t clear then you were going to have to referee their debate, something you were hoping to avoid.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Charles murmured as he kissed your hand and laced it with his. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

It was no secret you always woke up when one or both of them went missing from your bed. Even asleep you seemed to know when their body warmth disappeared.

“It’s okay. I’ll have to get used to it.”

“When we abandon you?” he teased, but there was an edge of sadness in his tone.

“Maybe that was a little harsh but I was hungry. I’m sorry.” You climbed onto the bed and snuggled in between their warm bodies. “I know you aren’t abandoning me, Cha.”

“Good, now I need to have an important conversation.” He shuffled down so he could kiss your stomach and whispered, “Ma petite, you need to stay inside there until daddy and papa get home. I know it’s a little tight in there and we are very excited to meet you too but you have to hang on just a few more weeks, ma fille. Deal?”

“I'm not sure you are going to get an ans-” A kick interrupted you and Charles smirked.

“My girl already listens to her papa.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned as he rejoined you on the pillows. “I hear teenage girls are terrible at listening to their parents. Not me of course, I was an angel.”

It was Charles’ turn to laugh as he curled his arm around your waist and closed his eyes. “An angel…I don’t think that was the word your mother used.”

Your yawn cracked your jaw before you said, “It’s a good thing I have matured since then.”

“Like fine wine, mon ange.” His nose brushed your cheek before he planted a sleepy kiss on your temple. “Bonne nuit.”

Exhaustion turned your tongue heavy as your body relaxed against his. “Goodnight, baby.”

Round 5 - Chinese GP

You wanted to smash your phone when the alarm went off in the middle of the night. The time on the screen said 7.30am but it was a lie. You had only been asleep for a few minutes from what the aches in your body indicated, not hours.

“The drivers parade is starting,” your mother called out from the lounge.

With a groan you pushed away the giant Squirtle you used as a body pillow and rolled to the edge of the bed before swinging your legs off. Just the small movement left you breathless as your lung capacity dropped and you hated the think what your VO2 levels would be like at this point.

“Can you hit record please?” you yelled back before going to the bathroom. There was no way you were going to miss a moment of the days activities, even if it meant watching the pre-race grid walk after the race finished.

You made it to the couch in time to see Charles and Lando climb onto the trailer together and couldn’t help noticing the dark bags under their eyes. They matched yours. It was the first time being away from each other for so long that you were all finding it difficult to adjust and sleep. Video calls couldn’t replace touching them.

They would keep their phones with them until the very last moment when they climbed in the car so you grabbed yours and sent a quick message after reading the sweet good morning messages that came through while you were sleeping.

To Group Chat: Drive fast and keep it clean. I love you.

It took almost half a minute with the delay of live tv for them to pull their phones out before turning and waving to the camera with big smiles, Charles even blew a kiss.

The boys had promised an interesting race during their media interviews on Thursday. Everyone knew it was the first race without you there and they were going to make up for it by pushing their hardest for a win. As it turned out, Checo tried to go three wide into turn one with Max and George, causing a red flag and the retirement of all three cars.

You could practically see the fumes coming off your brother and you didn’t need to be a lip reader to know what he was saying when the camera panned to him in the garage. Maybe Checo would be the next to learn just how fast Red Bull can take away the seat they gave. He wouldn’t be the first and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“Eat your breakfast, it’s gone cold.”

The dish your mother made would still sit on the coffee table for another 37 laps but you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. Charles was leading with Lewis in second place but you knew the Mercedes’ tyre degradation meant Lando would soon be able to overtake, and you weren’t even there to scream for them.

“I will soon,” you lied as you edged closer to the tv and saw the two cars enter the straight. “Get him baby…”

Lando’s rear wing opened, adding to the slipstream he was already getting from Lewis, and he pulled out to shoot past, diving onto his breaks in the corner and taking second place.

“Yes!!!” you screamed as you jumped to your feet.

“Don’t jump around too much, you might break your waters,” your mother warned as she pulled you back down into the couch cushions.

“But did you see that? That was perfect!”

Your mother smiled at your enthusiasm. “He did very well, but you need to calm down.”

Your nail beds were ruined by the time it came to pitting and they both went in on the same lap but Ferrari made a mistake and took a few key seconds to recover. It was just long enough for Lando to be released and get in front of Charles.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, nervously bouncing your knee as Lando defended against Charles. “I can’t watch. Mum, my heart can’t handle this…” She held your hand and you gripped it tight for the remaining laps.

“Go! Go! Go!” you screamed at the tv, leaping to your feet again as Lando finally crossed the finish line less than two seconds ahead of Charles. “YESSSS!!!”

You couldn’t keep still as you rubbed your belly and laughed exuberantly. “Daddy just won his first race! Holy shit, he did it!” You were giddier than the first time you won but he had waited so long for it after being robbed of the win in Sochi. “I can’t believe I’m not fucking there!”

“Language,” your mother reminded with a laugh. You turned to see she was recording your reaction and sent the video to the group chat with Lando and Charles.

“Oh please, she’s not even born, and that’s the least of her worries.”

Lando’s shouts over the team radio made you smile harder and he was still laughing and possibly crying by the time he pulled into the pit lane. “Yeah, baby, about fucking time! Woohoo!! Who’s your daddy?”

“Well done, mate, you deserve this.”

“Thanks, Jarv, are you crying?”

“I just got something in my eye.”

“Yeah me too.”

His car parked in the centre position but he couldn’t get out as sat in disbelief, his helmet dipped with his head. Charles was the first out and half hung into Lando’s cockpit as he embraced the winner. You couldn’t hear their exchange but you could imagine Charles telling him how proud he was before helping him climb out of his seat.

Lando jumped from the halo and into Charles’ arms before Carlos rushed in too after taking third place. You couldn’t help thinking it should have been you with them.

“What a way to take your first win,” Jenson said with a grin as he started the post race interview. “I guess there will be plenty to celebrate tonight. Any plans?”

“Mhmm,” Lando hummed as Charles joined him after his weigh-in. “Big plans. Important plans. We are heading straight to the airport and going home to celebrate with our wife.”

“Wife?” you asked aloud.

“Wife?” Jenson echoed.

“Uh, figure of speech, you know?” Lando chuckled, his neck turning pink at his mistake but he was so high on elation it had slipped out. “We have a baby on the way and our lives are built together. It doesn’t get more committed than that kind of thing.”

“So there haven’t been any secret nuptials we don’t know about?”

“No, not that we wouldn’t if we could but there’s kind of laws or something against it, or so my lawyers say.”

“Trust me, they’ve checked,” Charles added, but it was the first you had heard of it.

You were still thinking about that when they disappeared to the cool down room and when you watched them stand proudly on the podium, the British national anthem playing loudly. You were still thinking about it when they left the stage and the Sky presentation came to an end.

Click here for the next part.

[sunraies]

do you think you could do a fic (you can choose if it leads to smut or fluff! which ever you want!) where the reader is extremely clingy but like tries to hold herself back because she’s worried rafe will get annoyed but he actually doesn’t mind because he’s like the feeling of being wanted/needed?

Sure, hun 😊 I went with full fluff and soft Rafe x

Hold Me Closer

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings- Fluff and past relationship insecurities. Small mention of drinking and sickness.

Rafe loves how you need him and is there to hold you closer

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You had so much love for him, you didn't know how your heart could contain it. From the moment he first kissed you that was it, your soul was Rafe Cameron's.

You wanted to be as close to him as possible, if you could be under his skin you would. The way he made you feel so safe, protected and warm, it scared you a little at times. How could one person make you feel like they were your world and you, their moon.

In previous relationships you had been told you were too clingy, that you were suffocating and annoying. All you wanted was to be loved. Your heart given to them completely.

With Rafe it was more intense and passionate than you ever experienced and you didn't want to 'annoy' him by showing your need for him. So you held it back as much as you could, but Rafe noticed.

When you were sleepy, ill or drunk it was the most obvious, when your guard was down and you reached out for him. Those moments he cherished.

Rafe first noticed when you had been partying at Kelce's. He had been sat in the garden by the fire pit, nursing a beer as he chatted with a few friends around him. He watched you abandoned your shoes and throw your solo cup away. You had been partying and dancing most of the night before stumbling over to him.

Normally he would have to encourage you to sit in his lap so he could hold you, but that night you flopped down into his lap, curled your legs up and buried your face in his neck.

"You good, babygirl?" He asked, wrapping his arms around you.

You nodded and hummed before smiling as he kissed your temple. "Just hold me"

"You sure, baby?" He was worried as he'd never seen you like it before. "We can go"

You shook your head, burying your face into his neck more as your hand cupped the other side, fingers playing with the bottom of his hair. "No. No. Keep talking, hang out with your friends" you muttered, making him shiver as your lips brushed his skin "but just hold me"

He looked around the group and shrugged at Topper's raise eyebrow before holding you tighter. You stayed there for the rest of the night, content in his arms, listening to his voice and snuggled in his warmth.

As time went on, he noticed more and more.

Rafe loved the way you were in the morning. Once you began staying over night at Tanneyhill, he never wanted to miss a morning with you again. You would cling to him, wrapping around him so close there was no space between you. He wouldn't move until you were fully awake, placing a kiss on your forehead, cheek and lips before going to get you a coffee.

He hated seeing you in pain or sick but when you called for him and allowed him to care for you. He felt so wanted and needed. The way you would let him dry your tears, make you soup or wrap you in a blanket. He loved helping you get dressed, stealing kisses, and telling you to shush as you worried he would get sick too.

"Baby, it's food poisoning" He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around you "I don't think that's contagious"

"What if it's a stomach bug?" You tried to desperately not cuddle into him as you ached.

"Then you can look after me"

It didn't take much more to convince you, after that you didn't want him to leave your side. It was food poisoning in the end but the next time you got sick with the flu, a week later you were caring for a poorly Rafe.

Once he realised how much you needed him. You never had to ask him to hold you, kiss you or just be there. He was there already, holding you closer, planning to never let go.

[sl-ut]

sweet dreams

ended up having a baby dream during my nap and thought it would be a v cute burb concept for my sweet cliches series

set in this universe!

abby noticed that something was wrong with her girlfriend almost immediately after she returned from her morning run. she had, of course, left quite early and had been very careful not to wake her cranky pants gf up, but started questioning what she might have done to piss her off already when they hadn't even truly spoken a word.

y/n was in the kitchen when she got back, mixing herself an iced coffee and barely even responding to abby as she came over to kiss her good morning. abby shrugged it off, thinking she was still too tired, but when she rejected her invite to join her in the shower????? that's when she knew something was up.

she spent fifteen minutes in the shower, taking the extra time under the piping hot water to think it over. she knew it wasn't about her leaving a mess before she left; abby was the neat freak in the relationship, so it was usually her getting annoyed by clutter, not the other way around. they'd been on good terms last night, they had even found time in both of their busy schedules that allowed them some spare time to get it on...was it not good? abby thought she'd seen the telltale signs- the whimpers, the heaving chest, the swelling nail marks on her back... she'd never seen y/n fake it before, so she wasn't sure what she wasn't picking up on. unless... what if she had only ever seen her fake it???

then abby goes into panic mode. she finishes her routine as quick as she can (under ten minutes, our low maintenance queen!) and rushes out to find her girl curled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, not even glancing her at abby as she took up the space next to her.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours? and don't say nothing."

the girl frowned before she stubbornly responded, "nothing."

"did i do something wrong?"

"no."

"then what's the matter? i don't like to see you so down."

"it's stupid."

abby scooted closer, pulling her girl onto her lap, "i could never think that anything to do with you is stupid. please tell me."

"fine, but you have to promise you won't laugh."

abby rolled her pretty blue eyes, "on my own life, i promise i won't laugh."

the girl let out a deep sigh before she mumbled something under her breath.

"gonna need you to speak up for me there, baby."

"i had a dream that i was pregnant and then i had our baby, and we lived in a cute little house with a dog and we were so happy..." she sniffled, "and then i woke up and none of it was real."

abby was silent for a moment before a small smile and chuckle began to crack through her forced serious expression.

"abby!" y/n slapped her arm when she finally broke out in full laughter, "you promised!"

"i'm sorry baby," she held her tighter to her chest to keep her from moving away and began to rock her, "i'm sorry. that was just so cute, if i didn't laugh i was gonna cry."

"i miss our baby."

abby was in her last year of med school, and thanks to her big beautiful brain (and her trust fund), she was remotely debt free. the two had already discussed their plans to start looking for a house in a nice neighbourhood as soon as abby graduated and got a permanent placement somewhere, but the discussion of kids had sort of been sidelined up until now.

the blonde shook her head, "i can't wait to meet our baby. just give me a year, and then we'll start making that dream come true."

y/n beamed with happiness, curling into her girlfriend's beefy arms, "i can't wait to carry your baby."

"trust me," abby chuckled, "i can't wait to put a baby in you. i bet i'll get it to stick first try, but i'm all about consistency. i'm thinking five nights a week minimum."

both girls giggled at abby's joke, snuggling closer together in a peaceful silence before y/n finally spoke up once more.

"abs... you know you can't actually get me pregnant, right? i mean, you're in medical school for god's sake."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Colic

Pernille Harder x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You develop colic

Magda returns to England after six weeks.

She would have stretched it longer but there were Champion's League fixtures starting up again and she needed to be there to keep the Chelsea girls in check.

So, after six weeks, it's just you and Pernille.

For the most part, you're a calm baby. You don't do much. You cry, you eat, you sleep. Sometimes, if you're feeling particularly active, you try to pull Pernille's fingers into your mouth and suck on them.

You're practically an angel baby...Though you're quite firmly attached to your Momma.

She can't set you down for a nap until you're fully asleep otherwise you'll cry and whine until you can see her again. She can't let other people hold you without being nearby otherwise you panic. There's not a moment that goes by where you don't want to be attached to her.

You're almost equally attached to Magda but it's still a pretty easy transition for you to lean fully into Pernille being your remaining caregiver.

It also means though, that with Magda returning to England, Pernille also returns to training. She's not ready to join the team just yet, not so soon after your birth so she's just gone back to light training.

For the first day back, she had wanted to be well rested but you seemed to have caught a case of colic so were crying for hours on end all night.

You're still whiney and tearful, rhythmically sucking on your dummy (one of the only things that Pernille can use to get you to stop sobbing) when she pulls up at the training centre.

The staff members suitably coo at you before Pernille escapes into the gym. It's mostly empty apart from the trainer that's working with her as the other girls are out training on the pitch.

Thankfully for Pernille, you've slipped off to sleep as she begins her workout.

She's completely exhausted, bags under her eyes and movements sluggish as she uses the machines.

"Rough night?" The trainer asks.

She gives him a tight smile. "She got colic. She wouldn't stop crying until four in the morning." She spares a glance over at you. "We're lucky that she's tired too otherwise we wouldn't even be able to do half of this."

The trainer laughs, clapping Pernille on the back. "My wife and I had our son a few years back. Colic doesn't last forever."

"It feels like it does."

They share a laugh just as the other girls fill into the room.

"Pernille!" Pajor cheers," You're back!"

Pernille drops her weights. "I'm back."

More girls flood in and move to crowd around where you're napping. It's the first time for a lot of them that they've seen you in person. Of course, everyone had known you were born and had seen the picture on the group chat but never in person.

"She's beautiful," Popp compliments as she crouches down to look at you," She's so, so beautiful. Like an angel."

"When she isn't crying, she is," Pernille replies.

The crowd swells for a moment as she moves through and picks you up, swaddling you up tightly in your oversized baby blanket. Everyone coos and looks like they're moments away from snatching you from her arms.

"Alright," She says eventually," Are your hands clean? You can all have a quick hold before we go."

A line forms quickly, girls pushing each other to try to edge forward.

"Just quick holds," Pernille says," She's been very tearful lately. I don't want her to wake up in someone else's arms and start crying."

Thankfully, you stay asleep all through your holds and all through the car ride. It's at home where everything falls apart.

You spit out your dummy and screech and whine and sob even when you're safe in Pernille's arms.

You scream so much that your little cheeks turn an alarming shade of red and Pernille paces the length of her apartment to try to soothe you to no avail.

She tries feeding you, setting you down for a nap, changing you but nothing works.

"Please," She says softly, feeling exhausted and utterly broken and thinking about just how unfair it is that Magda's away in England while she's hanging on by a thread with a colicky baby that just won't stop crying," Please stop. Please, please, please."

But you don't stop. You reject your dummy. You reject a feed. You reject all comfort and you scream and cry until you're red in the face and gagging over your own tears.

Pernille starts crying too. From frustration. From exhaustion. From genuine despair over the fact that you haven't stopped crying for hours.

She thinks about calling Magda after nearly two and a half hours but there's nothing Magda can do to help but offer kind words and encouragement and, if that had happened, Pernille's ninety percent sure she would have snapped viciously at her partner without explanation.

So, it's just you (you who's screaming and crying and nearly throwing up) and Pernille (who's crying and pacing and trying to soothe you to no avail).

"Please," Pernille sobs as you continue to scream, your lips taking on a slightly blue tinge from the lack of oxygen you're getting," Oh, please, princesse."

She does another lap of the apartment. She checks to see if you need to be changed. She tries to feed you. She tries to get you to nap.

"Okay, okay, we're going to try this, alright?"

Pernille wipes her own tears away as she starts to run the bath, stripping both herself and you down and sliding into the water. You lay on her chest as she slowly pours lukewarm water over your back as her other hand gently rubs at your head.

You didn't have much hair (and her doctor had assured her that a lot of your wispy baby hair would fall out soon) but it was enough that Pernille could brush against it as you lay on her.

Your face is still scrunched up, a little crinkle between your brows, but you've stopped crying. You coo as more water runs down your back and you finally look up at Pernille, your eyes no longer glassy or tearful.

Curiously, you reach up and poke at her mouth with you little fingers.

Pernille smiles down at you, playfully biting at them before she readjusts.

Your lips are back to a normal colour again and your red cheeks are fading.

She sighs in relief.

"Why are you crying so much, huh?" She teases," Do you miss your Morsa? Is that what it is? I miss her too but we've got each other to look after now, alright? We're gonna be okay, princesse. It's all going to be okay."

[chvnnie]

here. take this dad chan.

week seven

Something feels…off.

The bathroom is oddly dim. A light flickers above the mirror, dull enough that it doesn’t bother you but definitely noticeable. Your legs are bouncing, belt buckle blending in with the cheers of the crowd. Five minutes until they go out. Ninety seconds until you know.

Is this something that can wait until the end of the show?

Tucking the evidence in your jacket pocket, you exit the bathroom. Into the nearly empty waiting room — only your husband and Changbin left behind. He’s fixing his friend’s ear piece, Chan’s head tilted to the left to give him better access.

“Hey!” He says with a smile when he sees you, reaching out. His hands are a little shaky; they always are when they’re about to preform. The gold wedding band catches the light, sparkling under it.

It reassures you. This is what is supposed to happen right? First comes love, then comes marriage.

Some would say step three is way overdue.

You grab his hands, moving into his body to give him the hug he desires. Chan’s arms are firm around your body, peppering kisses along the side of your face—

“Stop moving.”

Chan smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, Bin.” He moves his head back into position. “How are you feeling, love? You still look a little pale.”

Now would be a good time to tell him. Your gut is screaming to do it now, to get it over with before the word vomit comes out like every other meal you’ve had lately. Do it. Do it before he walks away, tell him now—

“There we go.” The younger man claps your husband’s shoulders, giving him a light shake before stepping away. “All ready?”

“Yeah, give me a second.” His hands fall to your waist, pulling you in for a proper hug now that he’s not Changbin’s doll. You melt into his touch, the jewels from his outfit rubbing against your skin. It feels nice.

You almost feel guilty, the weight of everything about to crush you.

“Hey.” Chan says softly, grabbing your chin and tilting your head back. His expression is so soft, so gentle. The man you’re madly in love with looking at you with beautiful stars. The trust unending in his dark eyes. “Talk to me. What’s up?”

Now. Now tell him now. Tell him before he’s busy for three hours, unreachable as you stew in your new reality. Now. Tell him now—

“Nothing.” You say with a smile, leaning up to kiss him quickly. “I’m okay.”

If he doesn’t believe you, you can’t really tell. The adrenaline of the show running through him already, his mind in a million different places.

“Come help me change at the ment?”

This really isn’t something that can wait.

“Yeah, of course.”

But for now, it will have to be.

week ten

In. Out. In. Out.

God, pregnancy cramps are worse than period cramps. Somehow.

You’re curled in the bed, knees pushed up and a hand cradling your stomach. There’s no bump yet, no outward signs yet. Just a bunch of weird pains and feelings that you don’t fully understand. It’s normal, you’re told by your doctor. You’ll get used to it.

That doesn’t make it that fun, though.

Chan said he would be home by now. There’s a comeback on the horizon, so it’s no surprise he was in the studio late tonight. But he promised you when he left that he would be home before you went to bed.

You’ve been a little extra needy lately. Who would have figured?

It’s hard to be upset with him. It’s not like he knows yet — when have you had the time to tell him? Between tours and a comeback and all the other million things he does daily, you haven’t had the chance to bring it up. Besides, it’s not like you’ve told anyone other than your doctor yet. So it’s not like you’re hiding anything from him.

Right?

Your phone buzzes near your head, a photo from your honeymoon lighting up the screen. Chan looked so sweet that day; his skin sun-kissed, curls laced with seawater, making them even more prominent. It’s your favorite picture ever of him. You’ve never seen him happier.

“Hey.” You say groggily into the phone. You tap the speaker button, not bothering to bring it to your ear.

“Hi, my love.” He singsongs into the phone. “I’m sorry it’s late, but I’m getting ready to wrap things up here.”

“It’s okay. When will you be home?”

“Hmm, an hour? Maybe?”

There’s so many things happening in your body. In your mind. And sixty minutes feels like an impossible entirety. Three, two, one and the tears are flowing in earnest. You take a shaky breath, letting the sob that’s been building all day release. You can’t do that, you can’t wait a single second longer.

You need Chan like you need to breathe.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” Your husband sounds so concerned. It’s easy to picture his scrunched face, the little pout of confusion from your sudden outburst. “Why are you—“

“Come home now.” You sob in the phone. “I can’t, Chan, I c-can’t—“

“Okay. Okay, I’m leaving now.” The door slamming in the background proves it. “Is there anything you need—“

“No.” You shake your head, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over your hands. “J-just need you.”

“I’m coming, love. I promise.”

You pull his pillow into your body, burying your nose into the center of it. He washed his hair before bed last night; the shampoo is still heavy on the silk cover.

In. Out. In. Out. Breathe in smell of oak, finding peace in knowing your comfort will be home soon.

Light pours into the dark room, your husband hurrying over to the bed. You’re facing the edge, still hidden in the pillow though your tears have stopped. Chan crouches by your head, warm fingers peeling your colds open.

“Hi, baby.” He says softly, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m home.”

You peek out from behind the pillow, eyes burning red. Oh, the guilt is painted bright red on his face. He must have ran out of the company building. Sped through the city. Did he even turn the car off before he leaped out of it? Shut the front door?

Chan didn’t stop until he was in front of you. You need him? He’s always right here.

“I’m sorry I’m home so late.” He apologizes, pulling the pillow down a little more. Wanting to see you better. “I know you weren’t—“

“I’m pregnant.”

His mouth is open, the words he was going to speak lost in the air. He blinks, head shaking slightly as the weight of your words hit him hard. You’re surprised his balance wasn’t lost. “You—“ his hands loosen their grip a bit, shock making his body run cold. “There’s—you—wait—“

Your lip is wobbling, new tears stinging your eyes. All you can do is nod. Over and over, confirming the question he’s unable to ask.

“You.” He gasps, tears now rolling down his face. A bright smile breaks out, a little laugh sneaking out. “You!”

Chan climbs onto the bed and grabs you, pulling you into his body tightly. Back and forth he rocks you, laughing into your shoulder. It’s unbelievable, exciting, terrifying. All the emotions you were feeling now reflected in your person, who can’t seem to start crying.

“Oh my god.” He says, pulling his head out of your shoulder. His hands cup your face, beaming so brightly at you, you might go blind.

A beanie covers his curls, though a few peek through. The gold earrings catch in the light of the television, though nothing could shine as brightly as his smile. His cheeks must be hurting.

Never mind. This is the happiest you’ve ever seen him.

“How far along are you?” Chan asks when he can finally form a sentence, the words coming back to him.

“Ten weeks.” You say, a hand mindlessly going to your stomach. “So not very far.”

He nods, his own hand following. Together, your hands lace over the nonexistent bump. “How big is that?”

It’s such a Chan question, you can’t help but giggle. “The size of a prune.”

“So small.” He mumbles, looking down between your bodies. “What foods have prunes in them?”

You blink. Out of all the things you expected him to say, this was the last on your list. Actually, it didn’t even make the cut. “I don’t know. Why?”

“Well, we should eat something with prunes to celebrate!”

It’s the cutest thing you think you’ve ever heard, your heart swelling as you cup his face. “Should we make something every week? To correlate with the size?”

The idea hadn’t even crossed his mind. You can see it in the way his eyes widen, lips parting in a bit of shock. “That’s a great idea.”

[ronwestbreeze]

take a bow

pairing: geto suguru x non-sorcerer!reader warnings: gore and maybe a little bit of angst summary: you smell like coffee...and geto can't seem to shake it. word count: 6.7k author's note: hiiii ;) as you can tell there will be about five parts to this mini series. nothing more and nothing less. i'm kind of excited for this and i've been really wanting to write for my husband so, i hope ya'll enjoy it! and i will not be doing a taglist for this one. sorry guys!

part 2 | read on AO3

There was a cute customer today.

And you were also sure you hadn’t seen him around before. Then again, you moved to this village two weeks ago, and you weren’t too familiar with the regulars yet. Perhaps he was just one you hadn’t seen until now.

You leaned over the front counter a bit, trying to get a better look at him as he moved down one of the aisles to the far left of the store.

He wore what looked like a school uniform, his dark hair tied up with a few strands framing one side of his face. Even though he was further away from you, you could see he was on the younger side, maybe around your age. Possibly older.

You hadn’t met many boys in your life—attractive ones especially—mostly because you were sheltered for half of your childhood and didn’t go outside. So when you did happen to stumble upon a few of them, you were left wondering what to do or say around them. They were almost alien to you.

It was the same with people in general your age. While you weren’t bad at socializing, you still adapted the best way you knew how.

“You’re being creepy.” Your co-worker, Tohru, said passively while scrolling through her phone. A very busy activity she had been at for an hour now.

“I’m not.” You cleared your throat, quickly looking away from the otherwise oblivious customer. “But you can’t deny that he’s pretty cute.”

Tohru drew her eyes from her phone and glanced toward the newcomer who was now in the snack section. Now it was her turn to lean over the counter, a look of interest inching onto her usual bored mask.

“Damn.”

“Told ya.”

“He’s definitely new. No guy that fine lives in a boring ass town like this.”

You hummed, “I wouldn’t exactly call this town boring—but you’ve been here longer than me so I suppose you have the better judgment over that.” Carefully, you snuck another peek at the customer who was studying the back of a bag of chips. “And if he’s that fine, no doubt someone already bagged him.”

“Ugh,” Tohru grumbled with a defeated expression on her face, “you’re probably right. The hotter ones are always taken.”

“Or they end up being a douchebag.” You added with a snort as you organized the stack of gums on the counter.

“Amen to that.”

“Newbie!”

You jumped with a yelp at the loud voice filling the otherwise quiet store. Glancing over your shoulder, you found your manager, a very old and impatient man, stomping over with a toothpick dangling from his mouth, “Are you pullin’ one on me, kid?!”

After getting over your short shock, you furrow your brows, “Um, pulling what, sir?”

“Where the hell is the leftover food from last week?! I told you to save it in the back storage!”

You gave a sheepish smile and rubbed the back of your neck, “Oh yeah, some of it went bad so I had to throw it out.”

“We don’t even do anything with them anyway,” Tohru grumbled under her breath which you tried not to acknowledge.

He eats all the leftovers. Despite his shop advertisement promising to send any leftover food to orphanages and charities.

“Look, newbie, I’ve been real lenient because you’re new. And I get it, you're in a tough spot but I ain’t pityin’ you no more! I have no problem tossin’ you the curb, you hear me?”

Your face burned in embarrassment, especially when his loud ass voice carried throughout the store. No doubt the hot guy heard every word by now. “Yessir.”

The old man huffed, “Good. Now stop messin’ around and help the damn customer! Poor boy’s been waiting for you to notice him!”

God, please don’t be him. Please let it be another boy who's been waiting for a while.

You chanced a glance over your shoulder, only to shrivel up when you found the hot customer standing at the counter, watching your interaction with a small absent frown.

Fuck.

“Someone’s gonna be on dishes tonight.” Tohru sang with a snicker as she disappeared in the back along with your manager.

With your face on fire, you went toward the cash register. You cleared your throat and gestured to the pack of cigarettes and the bag of chips, “Will that be all for you today?”

He seemed to have been lost in thought as it took a beat for him to reply, “Sorry, yes, that’s it.”

You nodded, trying not to look him in the eyes. God, even his voice was attractive.

After giving him the price, you began bagging his items while he fished into his pockets to grab his wallet.

You still had yet to look at him.

The last thing you wanted was to get chewed out by your bum boss in front of a guy that you’d possibly never see again. Before you had been dying to have a quick conversation with him, just to keep looking at him for a little longer. Now all you wanted to do was get him out of the store as soon as possible and hide away in a hole, never to be found again.

“Is he always like that?”

You placed his cigarettes in the bag before you realized he was talking to you. Which only made your cheeks even hotter.

“Uh, yeah, he’s usually getting high in the back, or napping.” You shrugged, glancing up at him every now and then, only to find him directly staring at you. Fuck, you were awful at this. “Only ever out front when the shop closes. He’s always the first out the door before anyone else.”

“Mmm,” By then you looked up to find him not too happy about that piece of information. “And he gives you a hard time to add onto that. Don’t you want to quit?”

At that, you smile, “It would be easy, wouldn’t it? I don’t know if you already heard—probably the whole block had heard him—but I’m not really in the best situation to be quitting a job just cuz I hate my bum ass boss.”

This time he looked sheepish, “Yeah, I wanted to pretend that I didn’t hear him, but I guess there’s no point in that. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You chuckled before handing him his bag. “It’s life, you know? I just have to brave it out until I have a stable income of money. Then maybe I can consider the option of kicking myself to the curb from this trash can of a place.”

The male stared at you curiously, the disinterest that he had worn before was now long gone. He searched your face—for what, you didn’t know.

And then he smiled, “You seem to have it all figured out.”

It was infectious, his smile. Even though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I wouldn’t say all that.” You returned the smile, anyway, hoping it appeared real enough for the both of you. “But I think it’s going to work out for me in the long run. That I can say.”

The male chuckled as he walked toward the store entrance, “I wish you luck then.”

He waved with another smile which took you off guard a bit. You didn’t have much of a chance to respond back to his wave, nor tell him to enjoy his time in town before he was already long gone.

It was now just you and your blushing face.

The back door opened, “Aw, you didn’t even get his number, did you?”

You glanced over your shoulder to find Tohru pouting at you. You grinned sheepishly, “Oops, guess I didn’t.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Tohru sighed, “You really need to learn how to flirt.”

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. Regulars came and went. Your manager was passed out in the back. Tohru’s shift ended sometime before you and booked it out the front door before you had the chance to say goodbye.

Essentially, you had the shop all to yourself. And it was unfortunately horribly boring.

Later in the day is when fewer and fewer customers start coming in. Apparently, many of the people in the village were too cautious about going out once the sun started setting. There were a few rumors here and there, about mysterious deaths all over the village. You weren’t exactly sure how much truth there was to those rumors, all you could do was clock in and clock out and go straight home.

Just because you doubted the stories didn’t mean you weren’t going to be stupid.

You wondered if that hot guy knew about the rumors. It probably would’ve been neighborly to try and warn him.

The sky was filled with oranges and purples as the sun was slinking behind one of the mountains. The evening glow made the shop look almost ominous, especially with the indoor lights off.

You should probably turn those on by now. They would’ve been on throughout the whole day like regular shops but your boss was such a cheap stake with the light bill you had to keep it off until evening fell and you practically couldn’t see in the dark.

Just as you stepped away to turn the shop lights on, the bell above the door rang. You glanced toward the clock and grinned.

You moved back to the front counter and grinned at the familiar newcomers. Two young girls, who looked no older than five, stood at the entrance. “Right on time! Looks like someone’s excited for today’s batch.”

The brown-haired girl—you knew as Mimiko—with the stuffed doll approached the counter first. Standing on her tippy toes enough for her chin to rest on top of the counter, “Do you have any more rice balls?”

“You bet.” You gestured toward the two chairs next to the counter. “Why don’t you guys take a seat over there and I’ll go get the food. It’s a real treat this time.”

“Okay.” Mimiko nodded before grabbing her sister’s hand to drag her over toward the chairs.

“Thank you!” The blonde-haired, Nanako, called.

You sent her an adoring smile, “Of course, hon!”

You moved to the back, passing your knocked-out manager, as you grabbed the box of food in your locker and brought it back to the front counter. Mimiko and Nanako got up from their chairs and bounced over to get a better look, “I actually got these rice balls from this place in the city during the weekend. It’s way better than the crap here.”

“Really?” Nanako looked into the box, her eyes widening, “Wow! Those look really good!”

“Anything for my best customers.” You winked and allowed them to grab what they wanted from the box.

Both girls giggled as they grabbed rice balls and ramen from the box. You smiled and patted both their heads before allowing them to sit back down in the chairs and eat.

You hadn’t known the twins for very long. Actually, you met them on your first day at the store two weeks ago. They had been attempting to steal a few snacks when you discovered them. You couldn’t shake the way they were looking at you when you found them. Scared yet desperate for some food. Mimiko had been clutching her stuffed doll tightly in her hands as if she were about to tear its head off at that moment.

They were expecting you to berate them and kick them out of the store. Maybe your manager or Tohru would’ve done that, but you just couldn’t find it in you to turn them away. They were obviously hungry, so what else could you do but feed them?

So you took the leftover food from the storage and gave it to them. They were pretty tight-lipped about their home situation so you didn’t push. But it was pretty clear that they didn’t have a lot to eat, wherever they lived.

“Let’s make a deal.” You had said to them that day. “You guys come back at around five o’clock every day and I will feed you some stuff we don’t need. Hell, I’ll probably even cook and bring it over every now and then. As long as the two of you eat.”

They looked hesitant. The brown-haired girl—she told you her name was Mimiko—spoke first, “Will you really do that for us?”

You smiled softly at her, “Of course. You guys are hungry, right? Why wouldn’t I want to feed you?”

Her twin, Nanako spoke next, eyes cast down, “Most of the people here are scared of us. Because we’re different. So they ignore us whenever we do ask for food.”

You frowned, your heart breaking at the time. Of course, you had some questions about why a bunch of adults would turn a blind eye to two little girls who looked no older than five. You seethed at the thought that the only one willing to help them was a barely surviving sixteen-year-old, who couldn’t even make minimum wage.

Instead of crying for them—which you were definitely close to doing—you patted their heads, “Well, I’m not scared of you. And I don’t care if you’re different. Come back tomorrow and there will be food for you guys. Okay?”

The two girls were stunned at your kindness like it was foreign to them. But they both nodded, hints of a smile making its way to their lips. “Okay!”

“But you also have to promise not to steal anymore so you don’t get in trouble.” Mimiko pouted but you attempted a stern look. “I’m serious, girls. And we’re going to pinky promise on it.”

You held out your pinky. Reluctantly, the two girls took it. Giggling when they fought to cover your own pinky with their little ones.

After your pinky promise, Nanako’s nose scrunched, “You smell like coffee.”

You laughed and cleaned up the trash from their meal, “I get that a lot.”

And since then, the twins have kept coming back every day, after five o’clock. Sometimes you wonder where they went before that. Did they go to school? Did they have any parents taking care of them? Did they even have a home?

You supposed none of that was any of your business in the end. But sometimes you couldn’t help but worry.

If you had a big enough space that wasn’t one small box, then you’d take the girls home with you in a heartbeat.

Once Mimiko was finished with her rice ball, she walked over to you as you were counting through the cash in the register from today’s productivity. “Can I help?”

“Sure,” You hummed trying to find something for her to do. “Do you think you could stack those new packets of gum for me and place them in this small box?” You handed the little box which she took instantly. “Go get your sister to help if she wants, okay?”

Mimiko nodded and took the gum packets and the box back to her sister who was just finishing up her rice ball. You made a mental note to buy some coloring books for them in case they got bored. Sometimes they like to stay a little bit longer after they finish eating, to keep you company. And you enjoyed their presence. It was better than staring at the ceiling for hours on end, waiting for a customer to enter even though you knew they wouldn’t come. And then got done with their little task quite fast. Yeah, you definitely need to get those coloring books.

Thankfully, just in time as you heard your manager shift in the back, the two girls made their leave. Waving goodbye to you with the promise of returning tomorrow.

Sometime later your manager came from the back and left the shop, grumbling about you closing up.

And another hour after that, you leave the shop. Hoping to see the twins again. And maybe—even though it was probably impossible—you hoped to see that hot customer again.

It was delusional, you knew this.

But it didn’t hurt to hope.

“Ugh, why are you eating that shit?” Tohru made a look of disgust at your bag of coffee beans. “Now the whole place is gonna smell.”

That was what you were greeted with upon entering the shop the next morning, “Good morning to you too, Ru. And don’t you think it’s a lot better than cigarettes and booze?”

Surprisingly, it was pretty crowded which was a first for you ever since you started working at the shop. Of course, it was a bunch of older people—middle-aged to elderly—but it was busy, nonetheless.

You went around the counter as an older woman locked Tohru into a conversation, “Did you hear what happened to that little boy? Oh, what an awful thing, I can only imagine what his parents must be feeling right now.”

“It’s that demon terrorizing our home again.” An elderly woman standing in line shivered

A man huffed, “I tell you exactly what’s causing all of this. Those no good—”

You didn’t bother to stay and hear the rest as you made your way to the back to throw your bag into one of the lockers. It was the same old thing. A horrible incident happens at night—a few people die—and people are going on and on about the town being haunted. Something about some demon going on a killing spree in the dead of night. To be honest, you thought it was some sick weirdo having the time of his life and the people haven’t realized it yet.

“Gotta buy some new locks.” You mumbled to yourself as you shrugged off your jacket.

“How was your night?” You glanced over your shoulder to find your manager sitting in the office, the door wide open as he smoked.

“Good, sir!” You offered a friendly smile as you closed your locker. “My mattress was uncomfortable but all in all, I can’t necessarily complain! And what about you, sir? How was your night?”

He grunted but never gave a response, which wasn’t unusual. He never offered to talk about himself, even on his good days.

You nodded, took your bag of coffee beans, and joined Tohru back at the front.

“—This is the fifth incident this week! When will enough be enough?!” This was an older man scowling this time. Next to him was a woman—whom you had to guess was his wife—trying to push him out of the shop as he began his rant. “We need to hunt those monsters down! How many more have to die?!”

You watched the couple leave with a small frown, “Wow, it’s never been this bad before.”

Tohru sighed tiredly, “Yeah, they’re pretty fired up this time around. I wonder how much of this is gonna mess with my precious sleep schedule.”

You hummed, noticing the usual dark bags under her eyes.

“Hi.”

A bag of chips was placed on the counter. Both you and Tohru looked up to find the hot customer from yesterday standing at the counter with a friendly smile sent your way.

Your face both burned with being taken off guard and the fact that he was addressing you directly, “Oh—Hi! Welcome back!” Quickly, you manned the second register while Tohru sent you a side glare. You returned his smile, “To be honest, I didn’t think you were still here.”

“Really?” He raised a brow as you checked his item out. “How come?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but the town’s kind of haunted.” You chuckled as you stuffed his chips into a grocery bag, giving him a sheepish smile, “Scares the tourists away. I should’ve probably warned you about it yesterday, sorry about that.”

He chuckled as you handed him his bag. This time he wasn’t wearing the black top he had on yesterday. The baggy pants were the same, just this time around he wore a white button-up. “Fortunately, I’m not afraid of many scary stories, but I appreciate the warning.”

“How brave of you.” You chuckled, ignoring the subtle glances Tohru kept sending you while attending to her own customer. “I can’t necessarily say the same for myself.”

“Don’t you live here?” His eyes twinkled as he tilted his head, “I’d say you’re a lot braver than me, you know. Tonight’s my last night here.”

You shook your head, ignoring how your chest fell slightly in disappointment at the new piece of information, “Then many would say you’re one of the lucky ones.”

“Oh yeah?” He hummed, his eyes never wavering from yours. Wow, he really loved making eye contact. You couldn’t figure out if that made him even hotter or a bit intimidating. And he was so nonchalant about it too, hand in pocket, stance somewhat relaxed. “What would you say? You count yourself unlucky then?”

The bell above the door rang, “Welcome in!” You called the new customer before replying to him. “Well, to be honest with you, I feel like I’m the luckiest girl alive. It’s not so bad here, you know, despite the obvious flaws of the shop and this town. I’m just grateful to at least have a job and a roof over my head. It’s not perfect but it’s everything I need right now.”

He was observing you again. Tohru was far too distracted with the other customers to notice and make fun of your bashful facial expressions. Or how you were practically malfunctioning on the spot from the way he kept looking at you.

“You know,” He leaned on the counter with a smile turning into somewhat of a smirk, “I’ve never met someone as optimistic as you. I almost think you’re unreal.”

“Don’t we all,” Tohru commented as she made her way to the back. “Your turn to man the front counter, newbie. The last customer nearly made me pop a vein.”

“Sure thing, Ru!” You called, trying to ignore how hot your face was at the moment.

Of course, the hot customer saw this and gave a soft laugh, “I didn’t mean to sound like I’m making fun of you, I promise. It’s endearing. You wouldn’t have a hard time finding someone to marry, that’s for sure.”

Steam was probably coming out of your ears at this point.

“I-I-uh, thanks?” You searched the store to try and distract yourself and prevent further embarrassment. Only when you didn’t find anything, you smile sheepishly, “I-uh, I think it’s a little too soon to be thinking about marriage—uh but thanks for the compliment?”

You watched as his nose twitched, raising a brow, “You smell like coffee. Like a lot.”

“Yeah,” You gulped with a nervous smile, “I get that a lot.”

Another laugh left his lips. He was far too amused now. Meanie. “I’ll see you around.”

With that, he left the store. The bell rang in his wake. You watched him go through the window. He waved to you as he passed. And you waved back.

Once he was finally out of your sight and you out of his, you groaned and dropped your head onto the counter, “I’m such a loser.”

The back door opened and Tohru poked her head out, shaking her head disapprovingly, “Yeah, you can’t handle all that man.”

“Shut up, Ru.”

You were the exception, not the rule, Geto Suguru realized a block away from the store.

He’d never really met anyone like you. It was so rare. Pure. So unheard of in this world.

But it didn’t change how the world was. A bright light like that would be snuffed, almost instantly. You would become exhausted at some point, smiling so genuinely like that.

It would make your fall much harder. Much, much worse.

More curses wreaking havoc through villages. More curses to swallow down, leaving the bitter taste of vomit in his wake.

You, Geto decided, were just like everyone else in the end.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

He wondered if he would ever stop hearing them clap.

Around the late afternoon, your manager sent you out to pick up a delivery of chips that apparently couldn’t make it. Something about a mix-up with the trucks—you weren’t entirely clear on the details. But your boss was pissed about it and you were left with driving to the city to retrieve the box of chips. The only thing you didn’t like about it was the fact that the drive to the city took almost two hours.

You just hoped you’d make it back in time to meet up with the twins.

So half your day was spent rushing through the city, trying to track down that missing shipment of chips, bringing it back to your car which was almost towed because you happened to park in the wrong place, and then driving back to the village while the sun was beginning to set.

The drive back wasn’t as bad as the drive to the city. But you arrived back at the shop twenty minutes past five. Which wasn’t too bad but you were still late, nonetheless.

“Sorry, I’m late!” You called as you entered the store from the back with the box still in your hands. “I got coloring books this time, hope you guys like to draw!” You brought the box to the front, expecting to find the twins.

Only you stop and find Tohru and your manager there instead. Tohru stared at you in confusion, “Who are you talking to?”

You blushed in embarrassment, “Um, sorry, I thought you were…” Quickly, your mind raced. “Did you guys happen to see two girls walk in at around five—that’s what the coloring books were for, yeah, yeah, that makes sense.”

“Two girls?” Tohru frowned, appearing even more confused. “Did you hit your head or something?”

Just as you were about to quickly explain what you meant, your manager blew out another puff of smoke, “She means those unlucky twins.” At this, you furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to ask what he meant, only for him to continue as if you had already asked the question. “Those two have been poisoning our town ever since they killed their parents. It’s about time they get what they deserve.”

Your eyes widened, heart, falling to your feet, “W-What does…what happened to them? What do you mean get what they deserve?”

“Oh yeah,” Tohru said while hoisting herself up to sit on the counter, “now that you mention it, there were two girls that came in here. They didn’t stay for long, some of the villagers barged in and took them. I think they mentioned taking her to the old temple or something like that, I don’t know, I had a headache and they were all being annoying. They went on about them being the cause of all the deaths happening in town—whatever that meant—”

The box fell from your hands onto the floor, spilling the bag of chips. Your heart thundered with panic and disbelief, “You…You just let them take them?” Surprisingly, your voice wasn’t quivering like the rest of your body. Instead, it was full and firm with distraught. “They didn’t even do anything! They’re children! They’re—oh my god, they’re just babies!”

Tohru rolled her eyes as if you were the one being dramatic and unreasonable, “Dude, relax, they’re probably not going to do anything that bad to them. Maybe send them off to another village. Look, who cares? At least there won’t be any more deaths—hey, where are you going?”

You ignored her, threw off your work apron, and jumped over the counter. “This isn’t right! None of this is fucking right!”

“Hey, you still need to clean your mess up—hey!” Tohru’s voice became further and further away as you bolted out of the shop and ran through the street, heading further into the village.

Tohru had mentioned something about an old temple. You quickly searched your mind until you remembered there was a temple on one of the hills. You always passed it whenever you went jogging on your days off. Yes, you knew exactly where they were.

Running wouldn’t get you there fast enough, you soon realized. So you thought quickly. In front of a flower shop, you spotted a bicycle sitting at the front. Quietly apologizing to whomever this belonged to, you took the bike, got on, and pedaled your way up the hill.

In your haste, the world was silent to you.

All you could think about was those poor girls. All you were worried about was saving them before the townsfolk did something that no one could possibly come back from.

The world was silent to you.

You didn’t see the people running by in terror, even when you nearly ran into an older man who had dashed out into the street in a fit of panic. You didn’t see the smoke in the part of the village you biked through. You didn’t see the blue flames consuming the houses and the people around you until there was nothing but burnt ash left.

This chaos was nothing but white noise.

The world was silent to you.

You ignored the large shape flying over you, spewing the blue flames onto another part of the village.

All you cared about were those girls. Mimiko and Nanako.

You should’ve brought them back to your home. You should’ve taken them in. You should’ve pressed for more information about them. You should’ve known that they didn’t have anyone taking care of them.

You should’ve known. You should’ve done more.

“My god,” You gasped, fear tearing at your heart as the temple finally came into view. “have I failed them?” There were no flames consuming the temple. Strangely enough, it was the only place that wasn’t on fire.

When you were close enough, you jumped off the bike and dashed for the entrance. You slammed into the double doors, attempting to pull it open. Only they were locked and wouldn’t budge.

You backed up, not willing to give up. Not willing to let those two die for this fucked up town. And with all your might, you kicked the doors open, causing them to slam against the walls inside the temple.

“Mimiko! Nanako!” You called as you entered, searching around for the two girls.

Smoke filled your nose and caused you to cough just as small voices responded back to you. Calling your name with childlike desperation. It sounded like it was coming from above you. Like there was a second floor.

The stairs were on your right. You dashed for them, skipping two steps at a time until you made it to the second floor. Until you made it into the first room you spotted. Until you found them both locked in a cage together. Beaten and bruised and scared out of their minds. Until you found the two bodies lying in a puddle of scarlet right in front of the cage.

You didn’t rush toward the cage right away. Struck frozen at the sight of the blood. At the sight of the two bodies. It made the once quiet world around suddenly become loud.

There were screams outside of the temple. There was smoke, so much smoke.

Then there was the blood.

Blood.

Blood.

Blood.

There was a small call of your name, snapping you out of your frozen shock. The two girls were pressed against the cages, Nanako reaching through the bars for you…

“I’m coming, it’s okay.” You said, finally snapping out of your shock before rushing over toward the cage. You ignored how your shoes were stained with scarlet as you walked through the puddle.

You tried at the cage for a bit until you roughly yanked it open, breaking the lock that kept it closed. Both girls ran out of the cage and hugged your waist, nearly knocking you over. Their sniffles were muffled in your sweater as you ran your hand through their hair in an attempt to comfort them.

“It’s okay, I’m gonna get you out of here.” You promised while glancing over your shoulder at the bodies. “Nanako. Mimiko. What happened to them?”

Mimiko buried her face further into your waist while Nanako spoke, “Everyone thought we were the ones behind the deaths so they took us and tried to make the man kill us. But he didn’t, he saved us!”

You nodded as you both listened and led them out of the horrific room. The three of you went down the steps. Just from looking through the wide open doorway of the temple, you saw the flames hitting the village had gotten so much worse. What had caused this, you had no clue, nor did you have time to stop and wonder where it all had come from.

Mimiko tightened her hold on your hand, forcing you to stop, dozens of steps away from the front door, “The man told us to stay put and that he would take us away from here.”

On your right, Nanako nodded, “He said the curses won’t hurt us and that we’re special.”

You let go of their hands and turned to face them, your back to the entrance. Carefully you knelt down in front of them, “Okay, slow down. Before I even think about touching the curses part, I just need to know what man are you guys talking about. There wasn’t a third body in that room.”

“They mean me.”

At the sudden voice, you spun around to find standing at the entrance a male. A familiar one at that.

The same male who had bought chips from your store. The same male who had that gentle smile on his face—similar to the one he wore now but colder. The same male who had laughed at your fumbling and embarrassment just a few hours earlier.

“You.” Was the whisper that fell from your lips.

He stepped forward and instinctively pushed the girls behind you protectively. His brows raised at this and he chuckled.

“Mimiko. Nanako.” His voice was slow, silky, and calculated. “It’s time to go. Those people won’t hurt you anymore. Just as I promised.”

You watched him warily but the girls after a beat started toward him, surprising you. Mimiko was the one who stopped while Nanako went to the male’s side and grabbed his hand. She looked at you and then the male. She then grabbed your hand and tried tugging you forward, “Can’t she come with us?”

Something flickered across his face and instantly disappeared in the next second as he smiled, “Why don’t you two wait for me while I talk to the nice lady?”

You didn’t let go of her hand right away, “Mimiko.”

She looked at you and smiled reassuringly despite one of her eyes being swollen shut, “It’s okay. He’s a nice man. He saved us, remember?”

With that, she followed her sister out of the temple. The male didn’t move from the doorway. The blue flames were menacing in the night, his shadow tall. The heat was just as overwhelming as the smoke.

“Who the hell are you?” You finally muttered.

He started walking toward in slow leisurely steps, “A sorcerer.”

Instinctively, you wanted to back away as he got closer. But you stood firm, “And you were the one that killed those two people upstairs?”

“Yes.” He was now in front of you with very little space left between the two of you. The obvious question was at the tip of your tongue but you never voiced it. Yet he replied anyway, “I’ve decided it’s time I’ve stopped serving non-sorcerers. All they’ve done is create more problems for people like me. I figured I cut the problem down from the roots. For all of us.”

There was no smile on his face now. No traces of the friendly face, of the sheepish boy you met back at the shop. Just someone else entirely.

He leaned forward, staring at you with that same look he had back at the shop. Like he was trying to see right through you. Accusatory. Blame.

“What good are you to me?”

You glared now, clenching your hands into tight fists, “It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind. I don’t see a point in proving a damn thing to you.”

He stared at you for a moment longer and then smirked. “Too bad you’re human.” He turned and walked back to the entrance. “I would’ve liked you a lot. I do like you a lot. But if my new world is going to be without non-sorcerers…”

The curse flew past Geto and into the temple. It was large enough to cause irreparable damage to the temple. It was deadly enough to crush any target in sight. Even your screams were swallowed whole in seconds. That’s how efficient it was. That’s how easy it all became.

Geto didn’t look back at your body. Nor did he watch you get killed by his curse. Instead, he continued out of the temple with a few more curses following him at his tail.

“There are no exceptions.” He muttered to himself.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

He wondered if he would ever forget that coffee smell.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Hours later, once the flames had long settled, you sat up in the rubble. Some of the most severe wounds were nearly done healing. But the only pain you felt was the tight twists in your stomach.

You were starving.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Your sweater had been burned off and your skirt was ripped as you dragged yourself away from the ruins of the temple. Saliva dripping from your mouth that you tried to ignore.

For a while, you kept going. Pushing yourself through what used to be a lively village. But now it was filled with ruins and dead bodies alike.

You kept your composure thought. Especially when you pass fallen body parts, scattered along the streets.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Eventually, you made it to the store, just on the outskirts of the village. The same one you worked at. The one place that had your coffee beans.

The bell above your head rang as you lugged your way over to the aisle where you knew the coffee beans were. Ignoring the calls of your name—which was just background noise to you.

You were hungry. Really, really hungry.

Just as you found the coffee beans, you grabbed one of the bags and tore it open.

“You know you’ve been fired, right?”

For some reason, your hand never reached into the bag to grab a mouthful of beans and tossed it in your mouth. Instead, you just stared down into it, saliva dripping from your mouth as Tohru continued her taunt.

“Boss’ pretty pissed with you taking off like that. And now I’ve gotta miss my concert because of you.” In the corner of your eye, she sneered, “I hope it was all worth it.”

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

“Risking your job for a bunch of girls you don’t even know. What did you even try to do?”

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

“Hmm, judging how quiet everything is, my guess is they probably finished the job.” Tohru sighed and leaned against the shelf, “Well, at least I can get better sleep.”

The bag of coffee beans fell from your grasp and spilled onto the floor.

Tohru gasped, looking down at the mess, “Hey! You fucking idiot! How many more messes are you going to leave for me to clean?! Ugh, you’re such a brat—hey, what the hell is wrong with your eyes?”

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Fuck it.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

The next morning, the shopkeeper was found dead in his office. Half of his face was gone, along with a gaping hole in his chest, where his heart should’ve been.

The girl was behind the front counter. Missing a leg, her organs spilling out of her abdomen. Blood everywhere.

It was a horrid sight.

At least, that’s what you heard.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

You wiped the blood from your mouth.

“I’m done lying to myself.” You mumbled. A giggle left your lips. “What the hell is the point?”

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

With that, you took your final bow.

“Things will be different this time.”

[coco-loco-nut]

Mama

pairing: Pierre x reader

summary: Pierre and his annoyed, heavily pregnant, wife

TW: references to spicy activities, pregnancy, cussing, use of French learned via Duolingo and high-school French class from like 4 years ago

————————

“I regret ever letting your French ass charm me,” you scowl at your husband who picked you up at the train station in London. He had been away for a week, and initially you did miss your husband, but the pregnancy began to really wear on you this week.

“I missed your too, mamour,” Pierre kisses you, taking your bags and placing them in his rental car.

“I should’ve stayed home,” you grumble as he helps you into the car. You missed your French home, the villa was sunny and it wasn’t England, but you promised your sweet husband you would come to Silverstone. He came straight from

Pierre knows you are hurting, the third trimester taking a toll on you, so he doesn’t take any of your words to heart, instead he intends on showing you how much he loves you.

“I wish I were home too,” Pierre squeezes your hand gently once he is in the car. He has been hoping and praying that the baby comes during the summer break, just so he can spend time with you. You hadn’t been to a race since Imola and Monaco and you were able to hide the pregnancy pretty easily with flowy dresses. Despite being pregnant with twins, you didn’t balloon up until right after.

“What would Mrs. Glasly and the Baby Gasly’s like to do first, get to the hotel or get some food?” Pierre asks and you think about it for a second.

“Mmm food. Chicken nuggets and fries, preferably,” you give Pierre puppy dog eyes despite telling him you hated him moments ago.

“There is a McDonald’s in the next town over from Silverstone. I won’t tell if you don’t,” Pierre says, you swear in that moment that you fall in love with him all over again.

“I would never,” you gasp before yawning a little. At this point, you could take a nap anywhere, despite being extremely uncomfortable with the babies dropping. Some luck happened and your thirty-sixth week of pregnancy falls at the very start of summer break.

“Take a nap, chérie, we have about an hour and a half,” Pierre tells you as he pulls out of the parking lot, turning the music on softly. You don’t need to be told twice as you doze off. You don’t even wake up to Pierre ordering a ridiculous amount of food at McDonald’s, you only wake up when he gently shakes your shoulder.

“Mon ange, tu dois te lève,” Pierre says gently, coaxing you awake.

“Mm, mon bonhuer, feed me and take me to bed,” you say sleepily, a sly smile on your face.

“The things you do to me,” Pierre groans, getting out of the car. You carry the food into the hotel from the garage so his trainer can’t yell at him.

“Y/n! How are you doing?” Charles comes up beside you. He knew about the pregnancy, despite Pierre and you keeping it under wraps, only because the both of you attended dinner at the Leclerc’s house during the Monaco GP. It's only natural, you were Pierre's childhood best friend. Charles was Pierre's childhood best friend, you tolerated the both of them.

“How do you think,” you glare at the Monégasque.

“Maman asked me to give you this, and I added a little something too,” Charles says, handing Pierre a bag and kissing your cheek.

“Thank you, Charlot,” Pierre waves to his friend, guiding you to the hotel room.

“Pierre, this is so good,” you practically moan as you eat the nuggets.

“You gotta stop talking like that, you’re driving me nuts,” he groans. You grin, biting into a fry.

“Or what?” your tease, his eyes darken. As soon as you both finish your dinner, he is kissing you.

“Pierre!” you groan, he helps you stand up, moving towards the bed.

"Do you want to do this?" Pierre looks at you with concern.

"Pierre, I am not a glass doll, I am pregnant and horny and I miss your cuddles, and I haven't seen you in weeks. I think you know what I want," you look Pierre in the eyes who is quick to help you into a safe, yet comfortable position. It is safe to say that the two of you missed each other very, very much.

You woke up in the morning, a rare occurrence of sleeping through the night, to your husband's arm wrapped around you, holding you close to him.

"Pierre," you nudge him. He hums, only half awake. "If you don't let me go, I may puke on this bed," you whisper to him. Pierre quickly wakes up and helps you to the bathroom. He had to get up soon anyway for the race.

"You ok?" Pierre continues rubbing your back after you've puked.

"I look like shit, feel like shit, and you watched me puke, I think the answer is no," you groan, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Why don't we shower, then I'll order some breakfast while I get ready?" Pierre offers, helping you undress and get into the shower. Like the gentleman he is, he helps you clean where you can't reach anymore, and in return, you scrub the shampoo into his hair.

The two of you eat quickly and get ready for the day. You both get in a chauffeured car and head to the circuit, you left a little later than usual due to eating breakfast in the hotel instead of in the paddock. Cameras capture the two of you walking in, more like you waddling as Pierre walks with an arm around you. He heads into a strategy meeting while you rest on the couch in his room.

"Apparently social media is blowing up over pictures of us walking in. They may love pregnant you more than I do, and that is nearly impossible," Pierre tells you when he gets back, the F2 race playing quietly in the background.

"I'm glad someone is enjoying it, because I want them out," you groan as they kick you simultaneously. Pierre helps you stand up and wraps his arms around you, hands under your bump. You relax into his chest, letting him take some of the pressure off of your body for a little bit. His touch always seems to calm the babies down.

"I know, just another month, then we will have our precious babies. You are doing incredibly, you will be the best mom," he praises you causing you to blush.

"They will have the coolest daddy," you hum, enjoying the temporary relief.

"Pierre, you gotta do your warm-ups," his trainer knocks on the doorframe. "Y/n, I can help you with some stretches that may provide some relief and better mobility," the trainer offers as Pierre slowly lowers your stomach, trying to ease the weight back. You follow Pierre and his trainer to the weight room. The trainer mainly focuses on helping you, claiming Pierre knew what he was doing, only stepping away when a spotter was required. Apparently, his wife was recently pregnant so he did a lot of research to help her.

"Congratulations, Y/n, you and Pierre will make great parents," despite neither of you particularly caring for Esteban, you thanked him anyway and wished him a good race. Pierre took you on some light strolls across the paddock, frequently being stopped by drivers, before the race where you sat in the garage and watched with his team. Pierre got in the points and you both celebrated by going home to France and sleeping.

By the time summer break rolled around, the nursery was filled with gifts from drivers and teams. Charles was begging the both of you to either name one of your babies after him or name him godfather. He was pleased to learn he was going to be named godfather regardless. A few days into break, your babies decided it was time to meet the world.

"Pierre, car, now," you look at your husband from the passenger seat.

"Charles! I am panicking! Yes, I am getting in the car. Fine you, can talk to y/n while I drive," Pierre says, frazzled, as he drives away from your home, the back seat filled with what you might need, two car seats already installed.

"Hello Charles," you say into the phone, quite amused despite the contractions becoming more frequent.

"Hi y/n, are you ready to meet the two rascals who have been torturing you for months? You will get to be a mom to three babies, god knows Pierre needs his mom right now," Charles laughs, helping to distract you as Pierre flies down roads.

"Mhmm, I'm excited to know the genders if anything. Are you still coming out later this week?" You ask him, the conversation oddly calm.

"I'm getting my plane ready now, I have to be there to meet my godchildren," Charles informs you and you feel another contraction coming on.

"Great, I'll be sure to hold them in for you. I gotta go, see you soon," you laugh through the pain, quickly hanging up. Pierre cut off an impossible amount of time, granted you didn't live too far from the hospital. Pierre is more stressed than you are, it's cute.

After 6 hours of labor, you and Pierre have greeted the most beautiful babies, at least in your eyes. The love of your life has now expanded to include the little bundles.

"Congratulations," Charles says, the first to arrive since you and Pierre didn't live too close to your families.

"Meet your godchildren, Anthoine Romeo and Genevieve Charlie," you smile tiredly at Pierre, who helped you through your labor, even as you screamed some very nasty things at him.

"They are perfect," Charles looks at you, a little teary as he holds Genevieve, "thank you," he says softly.

"We named them after the two people who have always stood beside us," you say, Pierre fascinated by his son. You really were the luckiest woman alive.

[danikamariewrites]

I LOVE your Feysand & Reader fics. Especially the housewife series. Could I please request a fic that takes place shortly after Gone Girl where they've been overprotective for a few months and it's really starting to grate on her nerves. She needs a break from them in Velaris. One of her solo shipping trips. Something where she purchases presents for both of them. Maybe she stops at a cafe for crepes and hot chocolate. And she knows that she's being tailed but takes it as the big step it is.

Over My Shoulder

Feysand x reader

a/n: I'm so sorry requests are taking so long, I think I've hit a bit of a writing slump. I love this idea so much and they would def be very overprotective of reader. Also, I've seen all your kind comments and want to say thank you❤️.

warnings: none

For the first few weeks after the incident you didn't leave the house. It was your choice at first. Feeling more comfortable under Feyre and Rhys's watchful eyes. You wouldn't even walk Nyx to school unless your mates or other members of the Inner Circle were with you.

Hell, you wouldn't even go to the farmers market. You sent Cassian and Azriel once which was a huge mistake. As you had unpacked the bags with them the warriors were so proud. That was until you had to educate them on the differnce between cabbage and lettuce.

Azriel was giving his brother a look that said I told you so. Cassian had pursed his lips dropping the cabbage on the counter. He the proceeded to hold out a yam, asking if it wasn't a special potato.

When the weather started to turn you started to go stir crazy. Just sitting in the garden and going on short walks wasn't cutting it anymore.

"I think I'm ready to go out. Like in town and stuff." You bring up that night as the three of you lay in bed. Feyre and Rhys freeze next to you. You didn't need the bond to feel the nervous energy radiating from them.

They didn't need to say they were scared of letting you out of their sight. Rhys has always been terrified to be away from you and Feyre. But after somethig like this. Your kidnapping still felt fresh to them.

Rhys pulls you tightly to his chest, rubbing your hair soothingly. You feel Feyre move, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head against your back. Before they can say anything you add, "Not alone, not for awhile. But with you guys or the family." Your mates seemed to relax at that.

"Ok," Feyre mumbled. "Why don't we go to the cafe you like after we walk Nyx to school." "I'd like that." You mumble into Rhys's chest.

It took you a few weeks to get comfortable. Then some more time to trust anyone who wasn't Feyre and Rhys. It broke Cassian's heart to see you so jumpy.

Months later you finally gained the confidence to venture out on your own. Feyre and Rhys were hesitant to let you go. You wanted your independence back, it's been driving you nuts having them breathe down your neck. It started feeling like you were a kid they were babysitting.

You wanted to get back to your routine. It is Thrusday, meaning it's family night. And what better way to get into your routine than food shopping and setting up for game night.

You decided to pull out all the stops for tonight. On your to do list is find a new board game and make a dessert you found in a new recipe book the House of Wind so kindly gifted you on your last visit.

Leaving the house you gave them each a kiss goodbye. You couldn't leave fast enough honestly. It felt like they were letting you go a little too easy. Stepping onto the porch you shrugged the feeling off, basking in the mid-morning sun before starting the walk into town.

With an iced coffee in hand you set out on your little shopping adventure. After your stop in the toy store for a new game you ran into Mor. Instead of just saying hello she continued walking with you until the farmers market.

Picking up an apple you swear you see a shadow quickly slink to the ground. Tilting your head your eyes wander across the fruit selections, watching for any other shadows. You continue with shopping for ingredients for tonight.

After the farmers market you take a detour on the way home, stopping at your favorite bookshop. It's been months since you've been here. Relying on the library at the House of Wind. As much as you love the endless selection you miss getting your own books.

Looking down at the cobblestone street you notice soemthing off about your shadow. Like something was tariling you. Stopping you quickly look around the street, paranoid that it could be something more.

Something blue catches the sun at the entrance to an alleyway to your left. It disappears into the unsual darkness for this time of day. As you keep staring the blue gem reappears, followed by three more and then a face only you would be able to see in the darkness. Azriel gives you a nod as a small, calming smile crosses your lips.

You continue walking, the bookstore only a few paces away. You couldn't believe your mates were having you followed. You thought you were at a point where you didn't need to be looked after. You let out a mental groan hoping it was loud enough for Rhys to hear.

The bell above the door to the shop rings and you shake it off. Marcy greets you cheerily, "Y/n! It's been so long, how are you." The female rushes over to you, embracing you in a warm hug. "I'm good honey, how are you?"

The two of you fall into easy conversation as she shows all the new books she got in. You periodically glance out the window to see if Azriel was still watching you. You shake your head, letting out a small chuckle. "What's up?" Marcy gives you curious look.

"Nothing," you wave her off, "just remembering something Rhys and Feyre said earlier." New customers come in Marcy leaves you to wander.

It's hard to focus on the titles in front of you with the thought of Azriel outside, waiting for you to make your next move. It's not so bad, you think. At least Azriel isn't standing right next to you. If this is what it takes for them to have peace of mind then you'll let it slide.

[luxaofhesperides]

(yourlocalcorviddad)

Wait wait wait, can there be more written about the one with Duke going on college tours with Danny??? If it's not too late?!??

(part one)

Danny’s been in love with Duke for years now. It’s always been kept a closely guarded secret, buried under as many wraps as he could get it. He tried to chase after other fleeting crushes in the hopes of moving on from his feelings for Duke, sure that they were never going to go anywhere.

How could they, when they lived states apart? 

The Danny back then would have never believed that he would one day be waking up in Duke’s arms in a hotel far away from home, traveling around the country to figure out a future together. 

Or rather, planning their own futures by each other’s sides, rather than planning to be together throughout college. Danny knows they’ll be spending even more years apart, chasing after their dreams, but it’s a gift just to a a summer together again. So what if it leads them to living on opposite sides of the country? They’ve managed to survive a long distance friendship for this long, they can keep it up for another few years.

And if it comes to it, Danny can just fly to wherever Duke is. He’s only gotten faster over the years, settling into his powers and practicing them so often. 

The future is daunting, but all his nerves are chased away by Duke’s smiles. 

“Can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says as they get settled at a restaurant in Massachusetts. They’re both tired, but the giddiness of getting together, of knowing their feelings are requited, keeps them energized and happy despite the long drive across state lines. 

“One state left, yeah?”

“Yeah, and I got Harvard first on the list so we can visit Jazz.”

“You’re the best,” Danny grins, stretching his legs out under the table to lightly knock his foot against Duke’s. 

This entire trip has felt like a daydream to him. It’s one thing being able to travel around the country with Duke, but to be able to kiss him wherever they go? Even now, two weeks later, Danny can’t believe how happy he is.

It makes the uncertainty of his future less scary. It helps distract him from how much he wants to escape his parents, despite how much he loves them.

Their conversation comes to a brief pause as a waiter comes by to take their order, writing everything down before hurrying away to keep up with the rush of activity in the semi-busy restaurant. 

“Oh,” Danny says, suddenly remembering the third person in their group, “Is Peter going to be joining us?” 

Peter, Duke’s chaperones, is odd but funny. He disappears and reappears like a magician, always carries a gun on him, and treats Duke like a little brother the rare moments he’s around. He’s mostly only been with them to act as transport, driving them around from university to university. 

Duke’s face does something strange when he hears Peter’s name, but it’s gone before Danny can figure out what that’s all about.

“Nah,” he answers, “He’s off doing his own thing. You’ve seen how he likes to follow his own plans.”

“So I guess we’re stopping here for the day?”

“Yeah. I’m sure we can find somewhere nice to spend the night, and until then we can explore—” Duke takes a quick moment to check the name of the town they’re in, helpfully stated on the restaurant’s wall of five star reviews “—Baldwinville. I’m sure there’s something for us to do around here.”

“I mean, we don’t have to do anything special, you know. I’d be happy to just to spend the day with you.”

Duke smiles softly, reaching over the table to take hold of Danny’s hand. “I’d like that too. Maybe we should just take some time and explore the place together. Have a relaxing day before we head to Cambridge.”

“That’ll be nice. I feel like it’s been forever since I had a quiet day.”

“Same!” Duke laughs. “Gotham’s wild, man. Did I ever tell you the story of having a barbeque with Killer Croc?”

“No! I can’t believe you kept that from me!”

Duke launches into the story as if it’s any other day, just the two of them hanging out. Danny’s enraptured as he always is when Duke shares his Gotham Stories. He doesn’t falter even when their food is brought out, and Danny tries not to blush too hard when Duke feeds Danny some of his meal, just so he can try it. 

There’s a reason Danny sometimes daydreams about what his wedding with Duke will look like, and it��s because of this.

But that’s getting way ahead of himself! He shoves the thoughts away and focuses on the story, enjoying their lunch together. 

Duke pays when they’re done, as has become routine; Danny had fought him about the first few times before Duke told him that it was all ‘Bruce fucking Wayne’s money so they don’t need to worry about costs.’ It’s a gift from the man himself to Duke, and rejecting it would be rude. 

That hit Danny right in his midwestern politeness and he could do nothing but let it happen, already planning thank you gifts for Bruce Wayne. 

They walk out into the quiet streets of Baldwinville, hand in hand. Summer has the air humid and full of buzzing insects, and the sweet scent of flowers surrounds them as they head down the sidewalk, idly looking into the display windows of each store they pass. The buildings are old, mostly made of brick, and carry a charm that’s lacking in the urban sprawl of Amity Park.

He likes it here. 

Honestly, he’s been liking a lot of what he’s seen in Massachusetts. 

He wouldn’t mind spending a few years here as he gets his Bachelor’s degree. Of course, it all depends on if he gets into the colleges of his choice, but he’s feeling hopeful about his future. He’s worked hard to bring his GPA up after his freshman year, and his ability to juggle and extreme workload has made him a master at getting things done before deadlines and adapting to things at the last minute. 

Danny idly swings their clasped hands between them as they walk, savoring the time they have together. 

The end of their summer trip is creeping up on them and Danny can feel the distance between them start to pull tight. 

They don’t speak until they wander into a park, just a large grassy field filled with wildflowers and bees. There are a few benches placed beneath large trees and Duke leads them over to it to take advantage of the offered shade.

“I can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says, sitting down with a sigh. He tugs Danny down after him, and Danny goes willingly. He swings his legs up to drop them across Duke’s lap, leaning against him, his heart fluttering when Duke gets a hand around his thigh to keep him in place. 

“I don’t want this summer to end,” Danny admits. “I’m not ready to leave you again.”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’m not going to be away from you any longer than I have to.”

Danny can’t resist the urge to lean over and kiss him, so he doesn’t. Duke meets him with a smile, keeping the kiss slow and sweet, though the way his hand skates up Danny’s thigh sends molten heat through his veins.

He pulls back before they can escalate any further (one time in public was enough; he’s still embarrassed by it and can’t look Peter in the eyes) and leans his head against Duke’s shoulder. “It would be nice if we could live together.”

“Planning out our future already? Well, in that case, I want a dog and a pet snake.”

“Why a pet snake?”

“Just feel like it.”

“A dog would be nice,” Danny says, “As long as it gets along with Cujo. Not sure about the snake, but if you can take care of it, I’d be fine with having it around.”

“Think you’d ever live in Gotham?”

Danny considers, then shrugs. “Maybe. I dunno, it sounds like a lot and I already dealt with so much just with the ghosts in Amity Park. But I don’t think I’d mind if I was with you.”

The smile that crosses Duke’s face is soft and Danny wants to see it all the time. He loves when Duke gets flustered; Danny just turns red and shy, but Duke becomes soft and adoring in a way that makes Danny feel like he’s holding sunlight, all warm and happy.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Duke says, not yet able to bite back his smile. “Now that we’ve visited most of the places on our list, do you know which ones you’re going to apply to?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Danny answers. He’s been thinking about where he wants to go since summer started and he left school with Mr. Lancer reminder everyone to think about college and preparing their applications. 

It’s been a topic that’s never left his mind since for the past couple months, wondering about what the future holds for him. He honestly never thought he’s get this far, having died at 14 and struggled to adapt to how his life changed after. But he’s gotten back on track with school, has a handle on the ghosts, and the support of his parents to go anywhere he wants. 

For so long he’s been stuck in the routine of school, fight, struggle. There was never any time for anything else, much less planning for the future, and now it’s hanging heavy over his head. 

At least he gets to be with Duke as he figures things out. It’s like going back to their childhood, spending summers together, but they’re both grown up now, walking ever closer to the next stages of their lives. 

He’d love to get into MIT, but he knows the chances of being accepted are insanely low. He’ll apply anyways, just in case, but Danny’s prepared to go somewhere else. Maybe somewhere else in Massachusets. Or maybe go to New York. 

“I really liked the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. If I get in, I think I’m gonna go there,” Danny says, putting his hopes for the future into words.  

“Yeah? I think I might try to get into a college up here too,” Duke replies. “If things work out, we won’t be so far from each other.”

“And even if we do end up far away again, we can make long distance work. Right?”

There’s a worry in the back of his mind that Duke won’t like a long distance relationship, that he’ll be off in college falling in love with someone else, but there’s barely a second before Duke says, “Of course,” as though it’s obvious. Like he hadn’t considered any other option. 

Danny’s heart settles and he shoves away the rest of his general anxieties. There’s no time for that now! 

He intends to enjoy the rest of his summer trip with Duke to the fullest extent possible, which means all of that is a problem for Future Danny.

“Should we go find Peter? We’ll need to figure out where we’re staying tonight.”

“I think we can go a few more hours to a bigger town,” Duke says, “Not that this place isn’t nice, it’s just too quiet. It’s weird.”

“Alright, city boy,” Danny says, standing up from the bench. He pulls Duke up after him, leaning over to kiss the exaggerated offended expression off his face. It’s not like he’s wrong, anyways; Gotham is a big city, and Duke is an urban boy through and through, especially compared to Danny, who comes from a large town and has family living in reclusive rural Appalachia.

“Small towner,” Duke returns, nipping lightly at Danny’s bottom lip and laughing when he squeaks in surprise.

He pulls away before Danny can retaliate, and Danny lets him go, saving his revenge for after they get to their next hotel. 

Their time together is coming to an end soon, and as much as the future terrifies and excites him in equal measure, knowing Duke will be with him, one way or another, gives him the courage to keep going.

He hopes Jazz will be happy that Duke’s dating him now. He’s already hoping to ask her to be a bridesmaid for him.

[kiibichio]

PLAY DATE ✩ M. STURNIOLO

OVERVIEW ;; you and matt are friends w/ benefits, so he hits you up .. you walk to his house and have a “play date” !!

CONTAINS ;; matt x fem reader, sub&dom ! matt, fwb ! matt, pet names, oral (m ! receiving), use of y/n, unprotected sex, angst (?) near the end !! (that’s it i think??)

kiki speaks ;; okay so this was based on THIS tik tok because omg he’s soooo. but anyways… ENJOYY (also this is my first smut EVER so please excuse me if it’s kinda sucky) PART TWO OUT NOW!!

date published ;; 02.17.24

not proofread !!

——————————————————————————————

5:57 pm.

i lie in my bed, excruciatingly bored. watching some show that i have little interest in, when i get a text from one of my friends, matt.

“hey, are you free rn?” the text read.

me and matt had been friends ever since he moved to los angeles. i also got along with his brothers well, so we would always hang out and go places together. a few months after becoming friends with them, i broke up with my ex-boyfriend and got closer to matt.

one day, matt and i had a conversation and decided we wanted to try some things, so we hooked up. without feelings. which brings us here. friends with benefits. although i might just be breaking that ‘no feelings attached’ rule, but he doesn’t need to know.

“yea?? whats up?” i reply

“chris and nick are gone. come over?” he asks

“sure, just give me like 5 minutes” i sent back

finally. ive been waiting for his text all week. last time we spoke was like 4 days ago. i quickly put on some light makeup, a cute & comfy outfit, spray perfume and head out the door. the triplets only lived about 2 minutes away from me so, i could just walk there. which i did often and most definitely will do now.

once i arrive at the triplets’ home, i give the door a knock and it opens, with matt standing on the other side of it.

“hey matt-” i get cut off by him grabbing me by the waist and kissing my harshly in the doorframe.

“sorry. just couldn’t wait.” matt smirks, licking his lips while closing and locking the door.

“i can tell.” i spoke, a smirk crawling on my face too.

“c’mon. my room.” he demanded and grabbed my arm, dragging my to his room.

he brings me to his room and sits on the bed. i close the door behind us and walk over to straddle him.

“missed you, y/n. haven’t seen you in 4 days. ive been so busy-” he explains, holding my hips as i hover over him.

“shh.. matt we’re here now.” i speak before moving my mouth onto his, resulting in a rough, heated kiss, which turned into a make out. our tongues moving together in rhythm, exploring each others mouths.

i start grinding over his clothed cock, trying to gain some friction, letting out soft moans.

“hmm.. you like that, matt?”

“shit… yes- fuck” he breathes out

i continue my movements, going back and forth on him. i quickly slip my shirt and jacket off, matt following me and taking off his shirt as well. i unclasp my bra, matt took a nipple in his mouth almost as soon as i took it off.

“ah- fuck- someone’s impatient.” i groan out

“mhm..” he mutters

i feel his dick start to twitch under me, signing that he was close. i speed up my movements. he grabs my hips tightly and comes right on the spot.

“oh shit..” he moans

i move off of him and onto my knees, rubbing his cock through his pants.

“look at you, so fucked out already.. haven’t even gotten to suck you off yet.” i smile sinisterly

“don’t tease me, y/n.” he breathes

“oh don’t worry.. i won’t for long.”

i swiftly pull down his sweatpants and boxers and grab his cock. i kitty lick the tip then slowly lap a long stripe from his base to the tip before taking all of him between my lips.

“oh- god! mgh fuck- y/n.. don’t stop. shit!” matt moans out.

i bob my head up and down on his cock, letting out soft, quiet, noises, sending vibrations down it and making him shudder. my tongue hit every vein on him, very slowly. i continue my motions, making direct eye contact with him the whole time until i feel his dick start to twitch in my mouth.

“fuck, im close..” matt mutters.

“cum in my mouth, matt. i wanna take it all.”

with that, he shoots out white, thick ropes of cum down my throat.

“s’good for me, matt.” i tell him, sweetly, while standing up and taking my pants and underwear off.

“mhm…” is all he manages to get out while still sitting on the edge of the bed.

“now get on your back so i can ride you.” i say sternly, walking over to him

“yes ma’am” he chuckles under his breath

he moves to the middle of the bed, lying on his back. i hover over him, giving him wet, sloppy kisses all over his face and throat area. most definitely leaving marks.

i then lined him up with me and sunk down on him. when he bottomed out, we both let out a string of moans.

“shit matt..”

“oh you’re so good. fuckkkk”

as i take all of him in me, i wrap my hands around him and rest my head in the crook of his neck, waiting to adjust to his size. no matter how many times we do this, ill never get used to it.

once i was ready, i started moving up and down on top of him, trying to pace myself.

“mghh…. matt.”

“holy shit.. mm you’re so good. so perfect for me,” he whimpered, “taking me so good oh my god.” he continued to moan.

those words made me instantly clench around his cock as i bounced on it, speeding up my pace. the room filled with grunts, moans, curses and the sounds of our skin slapping.

my legs were starting to give out and my bounces got sloppier, matt noticed this and flipped us over. now we were in missionary, with him pounding into me relentlessly.

“oh fuck fuck fuck fuck matt” i managed to moan out

“yea.. mhm got tired after a couple of ups and downs huh?” he grunts

“ohhh matt shittt”

“that’s right, y/n. say my name. uh huh”

i came about as soon as he said that, but he kept going, chasing his high.

soon, his thrusts got slower, indicating that he was close.

“cum inside me, matt. i wanna take it.”

“oh fuck y/n. fuck” he groans, while his cum fills me up and falls on side of me.

we both lay there for a while, out of breath before matt speaks up.

“you can go now.. if you want.” he says

hearing that kind of broke my heart. i knew we weren’t supposed to have real feelings for each other but geez.. am i just some toy to him?

“are you serious? you just told me you ‘missed me so much’, but you’re letting me leave just like that? am i just some sort of play date to you?” i ask, sitting up. anger, sadness and confusion written all over my face

maybe i shouldn’t have said that.

——————————————————————————————

kiki speaks (again) ;; urmmm I DONT KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THISSS UGH 😭 i hope i did good and you guys enjoyed but this is my FIRST EVER SMUT AND FIC SO GO EASY ON ME. i would also really love tips from other writers bc idkkk. but TOODLES !! (p.s. DO U GUYS WANT A PT. 2 OF THIS BC IK I KINDA ENDED W A CLIFFHANGER-ISH TYPE THINGY??)

tag list ;; .. empty for rn 🍵

[whoistartaglia]

you avoid your crush.

how do you deal with an unwanted but undeniable crush? you avoid them: save the friendship, mourn the relationship. or, so you thought.

including: cyno, the wanderer.

warnings: gender neutral reader, slight angst, mostly fluff.

cyno.

when you realized you’ve developed feelings for cyno, your best friend, you didn’t know what to do. you couldn’t tell him and ruin the friendship. that would be a disaster, and break your heart twice over: once, to lose cyno as a friend, and again, to lose him as anything more. so you resigned yourself to only have your heart broken once: you would avoid cyno until your feelings disappeared, and keep your friendship with him intact.

so that’s exactly what you do. everything was going fine, too—until today, when cyno cornered you in a small alcove at the akademiya.

“oh, cyno…! funny seeing you here…”

“is it, though?” he asks. “i do work here. we both work here, actually. wouldn’t it be stranger not to see me?”

yes, it is, but cuno doesn’t give you time to respond before he continues: “so isn’t it quite strange that i haven’t seen you in what? a week or two now?”

“yes… i guess.”

cyno waits for more, but you give him nothing else. you fidget under the weight of his stare. he’s observing you and you get the feeling like you’re an experiment gone wrong, a conclusion miscalculated.

“al-righ-t,” cyno finally says, drawing out each syllable. he hesitates for a second before his face hardens and he says, “if you want to avoid and ignore me and pretend i don’t exist, then you can avoid and ignore me and pretend i don’t exist. i can’t stop you, even if i hate it. but i would have at least wanted an answer as to why.”

cyno steps aside then, as if to tell you the conversation is gone, you’re free to go. but you don’t move, can’t move. you can’t even think as cyno steps away, only his words ringing in your ears: i would have at least wanted an answer as to why. you owed him that much, at least.

“wait, cyno—“ you take in a deep breath, and the words tumble out all at once. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry for avoiding you i— i really thought it was the best since i like you and you don’t like me, and i didn’t want to ruin our friendship but it just ended up hurting the both of us and it was a really stupid, but i didn’t know what else to do and… i’m really sorry.”

you look up when cyno doesn’t say anything. he’s still studying you, maybe even more intensely than before.

“yes.” he finally says.

“what?”

“it was really stupid.”

your face burns in embarrassment. cyno continues, “not just your plan—but that you thought we couldn’t be friends if i didn’t feel the same way back.”

“i know i just—“ you abruptly cut off, repeating what cyno just said in your head. “you feel… the same way back?”

“yes. i’d tell you it was stupid not to realize i also like you… but until now, i didn’t know you felt the same.”

“oh.” and then again, because you don’t know what else to say, “i’m sorry.”

cyno allows a faint smile to grace his lips. “i’ll forgive you this time, [name]. honestly, i’m just relieved you don’t hate me.”

“i could never hate you,” you say immediately.

“it didn’t feel like that this week. or last.” you look down again, disappointed that you allowed yourself to make cyno feel that way. he continues, a little gentler: “you’re going to have to make it up to me.”

“how?” you ask, already knowing you would do anything.

“how about you let me take you on a date? granted that’s something you probably want but there, you can tell me everything.”

you wouldn’t say no on any circumstance, but especially not when cyno’s finally smiling at you again. your relationship was off to a more than rocky start, but you find yourself hoping you can turn it around for the better.

the wanderer.

it was hard to avoid the wanderer as you were adventuring over teyvat together, just the two of you. when you first realized your feelings for him, and decided they would only prematurely end your expedition when he didn’t feel the same back, you swore to keep them a secret. to do that, you would need to distance yourself from him, but that proved rather difficult and… well, extremely obvious.

you stare into the flames of your small campfire. you sit opposite of the wanderer, though on previous cold nights like these, you probably would have been right next to him. similarly, you both would have trading stories and reminiscing about past adventures, not blanketed in this silence.

it’s clues like those, coupled with the equally obvious signs that you were had feelings for him, that let the wanderer discover your plan.

the wanderer leans back, resting on his elbows. the sun was setting, and already the stars would come out. on clear nights like these, you would spend hours—maybe the whole night—pointing out the different constellations.

looking at you now, eyes boring in the fire, the wanderer knows that’s not going to happen tonight. at least, not if he doesn’t do something about it.

“you’re quiet tonight,” he starts. you glance up sharply at him.

“yeah, i guess,” you mumble, looking back down.

“why?”

you trace circles in the dirt. “i’m just… tired. i guess. yeah, i might just go to bed early—“

“have you ever heard of,” the wanderer cuts you off, “the phrase, ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder?’”

you pause. he can’t possibly know… can he?

“i’ve know of it,” you reply tightly.

“so then you also know that you’re little idea of ignoring me in hopes that your feelings go away was doomed from the start, right?”

startled, you look back up again, and meet the wanderer’s gaze. you meet the wanderer’s gaze, and like all the times before, you know there’s no use in lying to him. not when he already suspects the truth. “i… yes.”

“and i assume you didn’t want me knowing because you didn’t think i liked you back?”

your silence is answer enough.

“well, you’re right.”

what.

what?

but then the wanderer cracks a smile, and he’s beside himself laughing: “oh, you should’ve seen the look on your face.”

“you’re the worst.” but now there’s a smile on your face, and you’re also laughing: at him, at your plan, at how despite your fears, the wanderer likes you back.

it makes you feel giddy, like you could spend the entire night laughing under the stars—and looking at the wanderer, now coming to sit next to you, you feel like you just might.

[ghouljams]

My brain does weird things. Anyways, I think Love would steal Liebling’s seed (assuming she didn’t throw it out) and plant it for her. That just seems like a very Love thing to do.

This is really dubiously canon... Love had sticky fingers and her luck finally runs out, or does it?

You stare at the sprout pushing its way out of the dirt in your little terracotta pot. You spritz it with water, and watch the leaves curl happily. Like fingers.

"Hey Si?" You call over your shoulder. You've made some... well you hesitate to call them bad, but questionable decisions in your life. Usually your luck carries you through, but you think it may be running out on this particular gamble.

Simon hums from the couch, half listening as he sketches the monarch wing you'd found into your journal. You don't know if this is really worth his attention. You don't really know what it is. You sort of... stole it.

"Is it stealing if it was technically trash?" You ask, without really thinking. Simon's sketching stops, and he turns to look over the back of the couch.

"What did you steal?"

"Weird seed the bestie didn't want." You poke one of the leaves, letting it wrap around your finger. That gets Simon's attention. He's quick to get off the couch and over to you, pulling your finger out of the plant's grip.

"Christ Love, is that what you've been nursing all week?" Simon looks over your hand with concern, you nod until he kisses your palm giving it the all clear.

"What is it?" You poke Simon's cheek to get your hand back. He lets you go to pick up the pot and inspect the new growth.

"No clue," he tells you, "did, uh- shit-"

"Lieb."

"Works well enough," Simon pokes at the plant, watching the leaves move, "Did she tell you want it was?" You shake your head. He pinches a leaf between his fingers, inspecting it. "Doesn't look dangerous."

"Then I'll keep watering it." Simon shakes his head but settled the pot back on the windowsill.

"We'll keep an eye on it."

"We?" Simon flashes you half a smile, you return it in full force, "I love when we do stupid stuff together."

-

You don't know how long it's supposed to take flowers to grow, or even how they're supposed to grow, but it feels like this is going really weird.

You stare at the giant flower bud that's blossomed in your little terracotta pot. It sort of reminds you of a cabbage. It feels like a rose when you pet it, the petals under your fingers silky and soft. You don't know quite what to do with it. Simon sets a cup of tea next to your head where you're resting it against the windowsill.

"Looking good Love," You hum at the kiss he presses against the top of your head, "How's the cabbage?"

"She's fine, still overgrown and weird." You sit up, grabbing your mug and letting Simon take over the daily plant inspection.

"Doesn't look deadly yet."

"Yet."

"Yet," he agrees. You both sip your morning cup and stare at your poor decision making skills.

"You haven't put any magic in it to make it big." You confirm for the thousandth time.

"Not a drop, gardener must've dreamt this up." He reminds you, also for the thousandth time.

"Maybe we can enter it in a gardening fair or-"

Simon yanks you away from the bud as the petals quiver and bloom. You're very quickly put behind your very tense partner, forced to look around him at whatever is going on. You've never seen a flower open up that fast, but you think gravity must be doing the lions share of work. The actual rose is huge, far bigger than the bud would've suggested, and heavy enough to finally break the little pot it had been growing in.

Simon is faster than you, grabbing the flower as it's weight causes it to tumble off the windowsill. You tense, your breath caught as you wait for him to do anything, move any muscle.

"What? What is it?" You whisper after too long a moment without a breath.

"I don't-" He mumbles, catching the end of his sentence behind his teeth so he can curse, "Shit."

You peak over his shoulder, hoping you won't see your weird plant smashed to bits. Instead you stare down at a baby. The smallest thing you've ever seen cradled gently in Simon's arms, blinking big brown eyes and white lashes up at both of you. Your heart swells.

"Holy shit," you breath, watching it yawn and wiggle in its rose petal wrap. It's perfect little nose scrunches with the motion and you need a second to adjust to how cute that is. "Did we do that?" You press closer against Simon's back, and reach to stroke your fingers over the downy hair on the baby's head, "I mean she's got your eyes, it's gotta be-"

"I don't know," Simon mumbles.

"Well what are we supposed to-"

"I don't know!" He snaps, and you finally look at him. At the absolutely confusion and concern dripping from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. You've never seen him cry before, well not like this at least.

"Give her to me," You tell him, sitting back and holding your arms out, he looks unsure. "Please Simon," you soften the ask, pulling a tether so he knows you're sure. He's so careful, if a little clumsy. You have to adjust his hold as he's passing the infant to you and it seems like he's watching the way you shift her in your arms for his own reference later. You hold the baby close against your chest, feeling that strange comfortable purr rise in your throat as she blinks her big eyes closed.

"What the fuck do we do?" Simon whisper yells at you.

"Call Soap right the fuck now and text Lieb that I'm gonna fucking kill her," you coo at the dozing baby in your arms. Simon nod and scrambles to find both your phones.

[kscheibles]

christmas break (college bf! au)

content warnings: f! reader, fluff, smut, oral sex f! receiving, gagging

word count: 2.4k

a/n: merry christmas from your sweet boyfriend who also doms you :)

You watch the minutes pass on your computer clock as you sit under the punishing fluorescent lights of the library. You’ve been done with your assignments for a half hour, but have dutifully decided to stay with Matty until he finishes researching his term paper. It’s some rumination on Sartre you don’t quite understand but you told Matty you’d keep him company and you intend to keep your word.

He’s been homesick all semester, you can just tell. He takes every opportunity to bemoan the lack of brown sauce in New England and show you photos of his family preparing for the holidays back home in Wilmslow. In an effort to make him feel better, you’d driven to a specialty food store to buy him the specific chocolates he’d been craving the most. A few weeks ago, you’d looked up flights to Manchester together, hoping that with a few tricks you’d learned from a friendly compsci acquaintance, you’d be able to score a deal. But Matty’s on work-study and can barely make enough money to cover his living expenses, let alone a transatlantic flight. It will be his first Christmas without his family, no matter how he spends it.

He slams the top of his laptop down suddenly, sighing dramatically as he does. You rub your boyfriend’s thigh in hollow reassurance. 

“You ready to head up?” he asks.

You nod. “Did you finish your research?”

“Fuck the research. I can’t focus, my Adderall has worn off anyway.”

“Okay,” you acquiesce, beginning to pack your belongings into your bag. The air is thick with something unsaid. Matty would never try to make you feel bad, but your excitement for the winter holiday is not something he shares. It makes you apprehensive to broach the subject of even going on a date to the local light show. You can’t imagine that would make him feel better.

You both trudge up to your dorm, as is your ritual. Matty always follows you to your door and waits for you to take your backpack off so you can give him a proper hug before he heads home. You would sleep together if you could, but the stiff single beds you rent are hardly comfortable, let alone sexy. At your door, you set your things down and envelop Matty between cold, brittle arms, squeezing him gently so hopefully he knows you care.

“I was thinking,” you start, pulling away to look in his eyes, “We have room for a guest at my house. I think my parents would be okay with you staying over the holidays as long as you take the spare bedroom. Would you like that? I know it’s not home home and my parents will definitely try to suss you out, but there will be warm food and Christmas traditions and–”

Matty cuts you off with a soft kiss on your lips. “I’d love to stay with your family, babe.”

Your face breaks into a grin. You nod slowly.

“Okay. Okay, then it’s decided. I’ll get them to cave.”

“My little meddler,” Matty beams, ruffling your hair. You catch his hands and move them off, smoothing your hair down. 

“I’m their only daughter and they haven’t seen me in months,” you shrug.

“I love you,” he says, seriously.

You fall into his chest and smile, “I love you, too.”

-

It feels weird dragging your carry-on luggage up the pathway to the home that used to be yours. You have Matty in tow whereas the last time you lived here, you had never met him before. You’re transformed, yet when you put your key in the lock and step across the threshold, you feel like the same girl who lived there for eighteen years. You feel like a child again somehow.

“Mom, Dad! Matty and I are here!” you shout out. Your mom comes scurrying from the kitchen. 

“Hi, how are you?” she asks you as she pulls you into a hug, rubbing your shoulders, “I thought you were supposed to have stopped growing. Harold, get in here, she’s grown three inches!” 

You shake your head, chuckling. Your mom opens her arms warmly and holds Matty in a welcome hug.

“I’m Carol, nice to meet you,” she says.

Matty introduces himself as your dad shuffles into the entryway. 

“Ah, there she is! I had a work call that ran long, shutting down for the holidays it can be a lot,” he leans down to hug you, “We missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you sigh, “Especially missed your cooking.”

“Speaking of, I’m making Papa’s chicken tonight!” your dad exclaims, “Matty, I hope you aren’t a picky eater because we’ve planned a whole spread to welcome our girl back.” Your dad reaches out, offering his hand to Matty as he speaks.

“Not at all, sir,” Matty replies.

“Good then,” your dad states, “Why don’t I show you to your room, Matty? Let our girl get settled.”

 You give Matty an apologetic look and head over towards the opposite side of the house and to your old room. It’s been preserved in its perfect adolescent state of whimsy, but something isn’t right. It's weird that it used to hold all of your clothes, all the evidence of your accomplishments, all your turbulent, hormonal emotions and now it’s like a movie set or a museum exhibit. Or an archeological site. Your bed is made with a childhood favorite stuffed animal in the middle against the pillows. You pick her up and give her a quick hug, she smells like home. You used to not be able to smell it because you smelled like home, too.

You take care unpacking your clothes, meticulously folding your sweaters and jeans, and placing them in your dresser. You open the windows to rid the place of the smell of nostalgia and then head back to the kitchen nook, where Matty is talking to your mom. You put on a brave face and massage Matty’s shoulders sweetly before sitting down with them. 

-

When everyone’s departed to their separate rooms at night, you take an extra-long time doing your evening routine. You press each serum and treatment into your skin extra carefully and brush each tooth individually. When you’re sure your parents will have fallen asleep, you tiptoe to the other side of the house and open Matty’s door. He’s tucked into bed, back against the pillows, and phone in his hand. It almost flies out when he recognizes you in the doorframe.

“Fuckin’ hell! Thought you were the grim reaper,” Matty whisper-shouts as you make your way to the bed and tuck yourself in next to him. His arm pulls you close to him on instinct.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah, just missed you,” you whisper.

“Awwwwww,” he pouts condescendingly, “Well, I’d love to have you stay, but your dad might actually take me outside and shoot me if he found you in here.”

“Oh god, did he give you the talk?”

“Just a little, don’t worry about me,” he consoles, “I kind of respect it anyways. I’m sure I’ll be the same with our daughter one day.”

“Our daughter?” you ask, looking up at his eyes.

“Too much? My daughter then. I dunno I just… I get the protective instinct.”

“It’s not too much,” you tell him, leaning over him to kiss him on the lips, “Very cute and very appreciated.”

Matty smiles into your mouth and you move to sit on his lap, straddling him comfortably. 

“Well I really like your dad, too,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, he really loves you,” Matty states, rubbing circles onto your hip, “You can tell that everything he does is for you.” You get shy at that.

“It’s fine, you can call me spoiled.”

“Not spoiled if you deserve it,” he says. 

“I want you to spoil me,” you say into his ear, “Need you, baby.”

“Baby, I can’t, Harold will have my fuckin’ balls.” You giggle in response. 

“Will you just put it in, then? I’ll be so quiet, I promise,” you plead. You see a familiar glint in his eyes and feel him hardening under you. 

“One sound and I take it out, you understand?” he tuts.

You nod eagerly. “I understand.” You move his pajama pants down and take yours off, moving your panties to the side as you sink down onto him. You breathe wildly for a moment when you’ve taken him all the way. Your world is spinning. 

“You okay?” he asks. You nod, “C’mere.”

You fall into his chest, totally content, and start kissing his bare collarbone. You lay the side of your head on his shoulder and try to catch his eyes. He leans down and nips at your earlobe.

“Bein’ so good for me, baby,” the praise makes you squirm and you clench around him repeatedly, looking for some relief. “I can feel that,” he teases. You pout in response. Matty’s hands reach for the hem of your oversized nightshirt and lift it over your head, revealing your naked breasts to the cold night air. His hands cover them instantly and his head ducks down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. 

“Matty,” you warn. He responds by lapping his tongue all over you, sucking you more insistently. He bites gently at the sensitive bud, and you whine loudly, involuntarily.

“Shhhhh,” Matty tsks, looking up at you, “You don’t want me to stop do you?”

You shake your head back and forth so quickly you think it might fall off. Then it tips back; you look at the ceiling fan hoping the sight will ground you but it doesn’t. Your body is filled with pleasure and you have no outlet.

“Matty, can I move? Please? I promise I’ll still be quiet.” Matty huffs frustratedly and lifts you off of him harshly. You look at him sadly while he gets up to get out of bed. You reach for his hand as he does, feeling as though you might cry if he leaves you hanging. 

“Please, Matty, I didn’t know that talking counted. I need you!” you say as loudly as you comfortably can. His hand slips out of yours as he heads towards the closet and kneels down to rummage through his luggage, leaving you dripping on his sheets. When he turns around, he has a tie in his hands. 

“What’s that for?” you ask.

“Well I was gonna take you to a nice dinner while we were here,” he says playfully, “But now…” He taps your bottom lip, a command to open your mouth. When you do, he places the silky fabric on your tongue, looking into your eyes for permission as he ties a snug knot at the back of your head. “Need to shut you up if I’m gonna give you what you want. Would you like that? Gonna be a good girl and take it nice and quiet?”

You nod, drool already pooling in your mouth, soaking through the tie. Matty pushes you down so you’re flat on your back. You make grabby hands at him as soon as you’re down, still trying to be good. He smiles good-naturedly and takes his pants all the way off before moving on to you, removing your last stitch of clothing: a heart-printed pair of cotton underwear you’ve probably had since high school. He kneels before you – knowing he’s being watched closely – and slowly brings his mouth down between your legs, breathing all over you before licking a broad stripe up your soaking cunt. You gasp, trying to stay as quiet as possible as he starts to fuck you with his tongue; filling you and leaving you again. You grab his hair and try to maneuver him a bit higher to your clit. 

Matty takes the hint and starts working on you there, switching between flicking his tongue up and down and sucking at you. You can feel the pressure in your body building and you accidentally let out a moan. Matty stops for a second, looking up at you. You realize what you’ve done too late, slapping a hand to your mouth. Matty chuckles a little before leaning down again, thrusting two fingers into you. 

“Keep that hand over your mouth, okay, baby?” You nod, delirious from lack and need and anticipation. Matty’s mouth finds your clit once more, licking side to side and keeping in rhythm with his hand fucking in and out of you. You can feel your moans trying to escape on your hand as you begin to buck your hips in time with Matty’s assault on your pussy. You tug on his hair a little to catch his eyes and nod, silently communicating to him. Then he’s sucking on your clit and you’re a goner. You burst into flames as you cum, clenching his fingers as he works you through it until the pleasure feels like pain. You remove your hand from your mouth and gasp, pulling your boyfriend away from your tortured cunt. 

Matty kneels over you a second later, untying the gag, wiping your mouth gently, and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Thought you were gonna fuck me,” you say playfully. 

“Greedy, greedy.”

“Not greedy, I just want you to feel good,” you tell him earnestly. Matty lifts the tie up so you can see the wet spot you left on it. 

“I’m gonna use this when you go to sleep don’t worry about me.”

“But I’m here now.”

“I know but I’m really quite scared of your dad,” he laughs a little as he says it, but you believe him.

“Okay,” you kiss him hard and long, “Goodnight.”

“G’night, baby.”

-

On Christmas morning, Matty knocks on your door before going to the living room. You beckon him in to sit on your bed, careful to leave the door open in case your parents wake up. You give him a quick kiss and then turn around to grab something from your dresser. 

“Close your eyes,” you tell him. Matty looks at you questioning but finally gives in. You place the item on his legs and indicate for him to look.

On his lap is a set of pajamas, matching ones that your whole family wears. 

“My mom gets them for all of us every Christmas, you don’t want to be caught without,” Matty is quiet, “Do you not like them?”

“I love them,” he says, pulling you into a hug, “I’m so grateful to your family for taking me in this Christmas. I felt like a bit of an orphan, to be honest.”

You hold his face in your hands. 

“You always have a place here, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiles shyly.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

[beyondthesefourwalls]

To Make a House a Home

Summary: House hunting in California was proving to be a challenge. Leave it to Bradley to manage to pull off the biggest surprise you’ve ever gotten.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n, can be read as unnamed OC) 

Word Count: 1.6K 

Warnings: smut, fluff, language 

Notes: This was written off the blurb request I got during my TGM Blurb Party by @cherrycola27​. She requested Bradley. Smut/Fluff. House. “You can’t trick me into confessing my secrets” and it ran away from me, so she gets a one shot instead. Hope you like it and that it worth the wait, girlfriend!

------

“I don’t think I can handle an open house today, baby. Can we just go back to the apartment instead?” 

The dejection in your voice was clear. You had been on the market for a house for months now that you had relocated to San Diego from Virginia. But the market was nearly impossible right now, and you were dealt rejection after rejection for every single offer you put in. You were renting an apartment on a month to month basis with the majority of your things packed away in a storage unit, and both of you were so eager to get out of the third floor walk up and into a place you could make a home. 

Bradley squeezed your hand before bringing it to his lips as he took an exit off the freeway. It was sunny but not too hot today, and the wind from the open windows made the strands of your hair flutter around your face. “Just one, okay? I have a good feeling about this."

“Just one?” you asked, hesitation and reluctance in your voice. But you would humor him, he knew, because he never asked for much. 

“Just one,” he confirmed. 

You sighed, and Bradley knew you really didn’t want to, but you agreed with him nonetheless. You weren’t happy now, but his own excitement started vibrating under his skin, because he knew you would be. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face. 

It was only another few minutes before he pulled into a neighborhood. He saw how you sat up a little straighter in your seat and how your brows pulled together out of the corner of his eye; you started to recognize your surroundings, taking them in. You didn’t say anything right away, but Bradley could practically feel the wheels in your head turning. You waited until he pulled into the driveway of a very familiar house before turning to him.

“What are we doing here?” 

The here in question was a house that could only be described as your dream home. It had almost everything your Pinterest Home Goals board could ever imagine, and maybe even a little bit extra, and you had fallen in love with it the moment you saw it during your house hunting more than a month ago. Your eyes had lit up in a way that Bradley had never seen before, only to be stamped out when the offer you had put in before you had even left the driveway was rejected the very next day. It had been hard, but you had simply smiled at him and said you would find another dream home, and that as long as you were with him, it didn’t matter. He knew you were being truthful, but he also knew that every home you looked at afterward simply didn’t compare. When he got the phone call from the realtor last week that it was back on the market after the original buyers had fallen through, he knew he had to move fast. With a little more cash down and a pre-approved loan for the rest, he had managed to sign all the paperwork and get the keys with you being none the wiser. 

Bradley turned the Bronco off and got out. You were still giving him that same confused, skeptical look when he rounded the vehicle to open your door for you like he always did. He couldn’t help but lean forward and place a kiss on the top of your scrunched up nose. 

“Come on,” he said, helping you down and closing the door once you were safely on the ground. “We should go inside.” 

“Bradley, there’s no one else here. And isn’t this house already sold?” 

You sound dumbfounded, and more than a little confused. You climbed the few steps to the closed front door, and Bradley couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. A smile took over his entire face and he dug around in his front pocket until he held his hand out. A shiny, silver key laid in his palm. 

“I..I don’t…what’s happening?” 

Instead of answering, he took the key and inserted it into the lock. The door swung open easily and he gestured for you to go in. You did so slowly, not taking your eyes off of him until you crossed the threshold. You gasped when you looked around. The large open concept living room and kitchen were bare, not a single rug or piece of furniture to be found as of yet. But on one of the walls right there in front of you, your favorite photo of the two of you hung, snug in its frame that had been sitting in your storage unit up until he had retrieved it earlier this morning. You stared at it in shock for a long moment. Bradley closed the front door and wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You turned to look at him, that same look of disbelief on your face, but your eyes were bright with love and awe.

“This is ours?” you asked quietly, like you were too scared of the answer. He nodded. “You bought this?” 

“We bought this,” he corrected, “but yes. We did.”  

You didn’t say anything, just stared at him for a long moment before squealing and launching yourself into his arms. The unexpected force of your body made him lose his footing and sent the both of you to the ground. He braced your fall with his body, but even then, he was laughing. 

“Bradley! This is our house!” 

“It is,” he agreed, looking up at you with the biggest smile on his face. You squealed again before leaning down to kiss him and he returned it eagerly. His hands settled on your butt, squeezing softly through the denim. 

“How did you pull this off without me knowing? You aren’t sneaky!” 

“I’m plenty sneaky when it means surprising the love of my life, thank you very much,” he remarked. You rolled your eyes but kissed him again nonetheless. 

“Our house,” you mumbled against his lips. He hummed in response, nodding. His cock twitched in his jeans. You always had a powerful effect on him, but combined with the way your body pressed against his, wiggling in excitement, and knowing that the happiness radiating off of you practically in waves was because of him, he was almost fully hard in a matter of moments. You could feel it, too. He knew by the way you ground down into him and tugged at his hair. You pulled away after a moment, rolling off of him and climbing to your feet.

He was about to push himself up as well but stopped when you tugged your shirt over your head. His jaw dropped as the material fluttered to the floor beside where he lay. You kicked off your shoes and worked on getting your jeans and panties off next. You returned to him as soon as you were left only in your bra, and you immediately set to work on undoing his belt and pulling his zipper down. 

“Don’t you want to look around?” he asked, even as he was finally getting with the program and raising his body just enough to quickly discard his own shirt. 

“No, I want to fuck you in our house. Right now. And I want you to tell me how you managed to do all of this.” 

He groaned in pleasure when you freed his cock from the confines of his boxers. “You can’t trick me into confessing my secrets. Oh, fuck, baby, god damn.” 

You had taken his length into your mouth with no preamble, sucking and licking him in the sloppy way that you knew he loved. The back of his head hit the hardwood floors as you hollow your cheeks. He cursed your name when you hummed around him. He threaded his fingers loosely through your hair. “Oh my god, you’re so good to me.” 

You didn’t work him with your mouth for too long, pulling off of him after only a minute or two, but he couldn’t bring himself to complain about it when you were climbing up his body and lining him up with your glistening wet pussy. You sank down slowly, and your matching groans echoed off the walls of the empty house. 

“You’ll tell me eventually,” you breathed, clenching around him as he bottomed out. You ran your hands over his chest, your nails scraping against his nipples as you went. His hips jerked up into you at the sensation and he knew you were right; despite what he said, your tricks always worked on him. 

He rolled the two of you so you were on your back below him. He thrusted in and out of you with long, hard strokes, you begging him for more the entire time in that desperate way you always did when his cock was buried inside of you. He wouldn’t be surprised if neither of you lasted long, but that was okay, because you had an entire house to christen.

“Welcome home, baby,” he grunted, slamming his hips into yours and reveling in the sounds you were making for him, echoing around him like music, “welcome home.” 

-----

Masterlist

Notes: In my head I was picturing the couple from the first TGM one shot I ever wrote, A Change to Everything. You don't have to read that to follow along with this, obviously, but check it out if you haven’t! 

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