#and you’re buzzing around the room like a toddler

[ffsg0jo]

same universe as this post. you don't have to read it beforehand, but it helps 🤭

even when yuuji's much older and has his own room, he's still woken up by sukuna's old man noises™ in the bathroom at 7am.

the poor, almost adult just wants to sleep in for a little longer and rest his weary bones, but sukuna's snorting and coughing and hacking his life out in the bathroom down the hall.

yuuji doesn't know how you do it, to be honest. between the snoring and old man-isms, the way he seems to have a permanent frown on his face. you've been by his uncle's side for as long as he can remember, acting as a mother figure to yuuji. always patient and caring, standing your ground against sukuna who can be bull-headed sometimes (a lot of times), and ultimately doing everything you can for the little family they've created.

he truthfully doesn't remember life without you, and quite frankly, he doesn't want to remember. ever since he was a toddler, you were his sun, yuuji your sunflower, absorbing your warmth and love.

you stayed by their side throughout everything; the ups, the downs, the twisty turvies. never once have you tried to replace his biological mum or even referred to yourself as his mother. but yuuji sees the way your eyes shine with pride and joy when looking at him.

he can see it in your face now as he walks into the kitchen, yawning. you notice him immediately while plating up everyone’s breakfast and attempting to escape sukuna's embrace, who's clinging onto your back like the leech he is.

“dammit woman, just let me hold you,” he growls, tightening him arms around you and kissing up and down your neck.

“sukuna,” you gasp, “not in front of yuuji!”

the giant of a man slowly lifts his face up from your neck and turns to side-eye yuuji. he lets go of you and sighs, grabbing the plates you’ve prepared, setting them on the table.  

“mornin’ brat, sleep well?” he asks yuuji.

“not with all your snoring, he didn’t.” yuuji laughs at your response.

“i don’t snore woman.”

you and yuuji share a look, completely in disbelief at the man’s denial. he’s woken himself up with how loud he is, many, many times. neither of you can believe he has the audacity to stand there and lie with a straight face.

you both scoff and yuuji sits down at the table, in no mood to deal with his uncle’s nonsense this early in the morning. you move towards yuuji planting a soft kiss on his cheek and ruffling his hair.

“sorry he woke you up yuuji,” you say warmly, kissing him once more.

“if anything i should be apologising to you, you’re the one that has to put up with him for the rest of your life,” the boy responds, looking up at you solemnly, genuinely sorry for you.

“i can hear ya both,” sukuna rumbles, mouth full of egg. “anyways, finish eating and make sure you’re ready by 10”

yuuji turns to you in confusion, and sees your face light up, practically buzzing with excitement.  

“where we going?” yuuji asks

you wrap your arms around him tighter and press his cheek onto yours. he basks in your affection and leans impossibly closer towards you.

“it’s a surprise,” you giggle.

yuuji’s face twists in confusion as he stares at the shiny, brand-new motorbike in front of him. it was beautiful, and he’s always dreamed of having that exact model, but he was confused at to why they were there at the dealership. is this some cruel joke? he looks at you though, and shakes the thought out of his head. you would never do that to him.

“you like it, yuuji,” you ask, a broad smile on your face, eyes shining with glee.

 “s’ beautiful,” he nods in response.

his uncle pats his back and lifts his hand up, his own tattooed hand pressing something sharp and chunky into his palm. yuuji looks down and sees… keys?

“she’s all yours,” sukuna smirks, revelling in the disbelief on yuuji’s face. he seems to be frozen for a good 20 seconds, just processing what he’s heard. you and your husband share a smile. it suddenly hits yuuji that the motobike is all his, and his face splits into the widest grin.

“i love you both so much” he whispers, tearing up and throwing himself into sukuna’s arms and an arm around your neck.

the man steadies himself as you both tumble into him, heart suddenly panging at how big his nephew has gotten. it seemed like only yesterday when he was barely up to his shins, and now he was eye level?

sukuna hides his teary smile in yuuji’s hair, tightening one arm around you and softly rubbing his nephews back with his hand.

“yeah yeah, love ya too brat.”

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[delilahsturniolo]

I NEED ANGSTY ANGST WITH DAD CHRISSSS. UT NO FLUFF ONLY ANGST AND NO SMUT AT ALL. AND NO FORGIVNESS

written by: @delilahsturniolo

dangerous - c.s

READ PT. 2 HERE!

____________________________________________

in which: Y/n and Chris are in a relationship that’s falling apart each and every day. But of course, they try keeping themselves together for the sake of their son. What happens when Y/n finds out something she isn’t supposed to know, causing everything to come crashing down?

this story contains: dad!chris, sorta toxic relationship, angst, cheating, arguing, no happy ending. (sorry 😭)

I am NOT in any way insinuating that Chris would do this in real life because he would never. he is a very sweet and kind person, this is fan false and NOT fan true! (iykyk) this is just for story purposes. :) 🤍

“tell me the truth, what did i do? look at me..”

“why can’t i see? no, it can’t be this easy to let me go.”

____________________________________________

I gently pressed a kiss on Grayson’s forehead as he shut his eyes. I adjusted his blanket before putting away the bedtime story I read him. I opened his door and slowly exited his room, shutting the door on my way out.

Me and Chris had been together for 4 years. Our relationship used to be something real, something genuine. Not anymore, though.

It was different now. We were slowly falling apart. We weren’t as happy together anymore, but we stayed together for our toddler, Grayson

But that didn’t mean I don’t love Chris still. My love for him never died, it felt like he was fading from me though. He’s an amazing father, him and Grayson are the most inseparable duo ever.

I guess I kind of wished we were a happy family again. Me and Chris barely ever saw each other anymore, and when we did we would just argue nonstop.

I went downstairs into the kitchen. As I was tidying up, the front door barged open, Chris walked in, not even batting me an eye.

I looked up, watching as he set his stuff down.

“You’re home later than usual.” I commented in a neutral tone, crossing my arms.

Chris glared at me. “What do you care?” He scoffed. “Where’s Grayson?” Chris asked, taking off his hat.

“I put him to sleep.” I murmured, leaning against the kitchen counter. Chris nodded and emptied his pockets, pulling out his phone and keys, placing it on the table. He yawned, giving me a quick kiss on the forehead and went upstairs.

I sighed deeply, rubbing my eyes. I tucked a piece of my hair behind my ears, I started walking out of the kitchen. Suddenly Chris’s phone buzzed. I was gonna shrug it off, but his phone kept dinging repeatedly.

Eventually, my curiosity got the best of me. I looked around before going over to the table, quietly grabbing Chris’s phone and unlocking it. The password was Grayson’s birthday.

His phone was filled with notifications from iMessage. I furrowed my eyebrows before clicking on the notifications.

iMessage

olivia ❤️

olivia ❤️

hey baby…i had so much fun tonight!

ur literally so fucking good in bed

we should do it again lol, is ur gf home?

______________________________________

I felt my heart drop as my eyes analyzed the messages in panic. Chris was hooking up with another girl…?

Tears immediately brimmed my eyes. I bit my lip, keeping back all my pent up emotions as I scrolled through their texts. My heart sank as the texts never ended, they talked each and every day.

I dropped his phone out of shock, my entire body shaking as it clattered to the floor. I let out a pained sob. I knew something was off with Chris. It explained why he was barely talking to me anymore, why he was coming home later and later. It explained why he wasn’t in love with me anymore.

My breaths grew heavier, I suddenly heard footsteps marching down the stairs, snapping me out of my gaze.

“What the hell are you do-“ Chris spoke from behind me. I turned around, my sorrow and hurt turning into pure anger. Chris froze as he saw his phone on the floor, his messages with Olivia open.

“Why are you going through my shit?” Chris muttered in frustration. I didn’t even respond to him as I turned around quickly to face him, picking up his phone off of the floor.

“Who the fuck is Olivia!?” I raised my voice, my anger rising with every passing second. Chris’s eyes immediately went into a panic.

“Nobody, she’s just a friend. Give that back!” Chris lied right to my face, trying to snatch his phone away from my hands. I backed up, not allowing him to do so.

“You guys slept together!?” I showed him the messages, tears of anger streaming down my face. Chris started speaking.

“What? No of course not-“ Chris’s voice wavered as I interrupted him.

“Cut the bullshit, Chris.” I said, my voice cracking with emotion. So many thoughts and feelings were coursing through my mind, it was overwhelming. I glared at Chris boldly, waiting for his response.

“Fine! Yes, we had sex okay? It was a mistake, I regret it so much, y/n. I promise you it didn’t mean anything!” Chris tried explaining himself, I scoffed and shook my head in disbelief.

“Are you fucking joking? It didn’t mean anything? So why the hell are you still texting her?” I shouted suddenly, Chris went quiet. I let out a pained sob.

I stepped closer to him, wiping my eyes.

“You’re a liar. You’re a cheater. I can’t believe I trusted you.” I spoke lowly, Chris looked down at me with his dark and angry eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Chris whispered. I shook my head and backed up, sniffling.

“No. That’s not gonna cut it anymore.” I spoke, my voice breaking.

“Fine then. It’s done. We’re over.” Chris demanded. I looked up at him, then at a picture of me, Chris, and Grayson that hung on our wall. We were all smiling, we were all happy.

“Good.” I finally muttered, my shaky hands wiping my tears off my cheeks. Chris nodded and deeply sighed before walking off and going upstairs.

3 weeks later…

I held Grayson’s hand as we walked up the steps to Chris’s house. I noticed Matt’s car in the driveway. I rang the doorbell, adjusting Grayson’s tiny bag for the weekend over my shoulder.

Suddenly the door opened, Nick stood on the other side, his eyes immediately lit up. “Y/n! Hey sweetheart!” Nick smiled, pulling me into a hug. I laughed into his chest and wrapped my arms around him. “Hi Nick.”

We pulled away, Grayson jumped up in excitement. “Uncle Nick!”

Nick chuckled, picking up Grayson and throwing him up in the air before catching him and setting him back down on the ground. “Hi buddy!” Nick ruffled his hair, causing Grayson to giggle.

“I’m just here to drop him off for the weekend.” I said. Nick nodded and gently guided Grayson inside. I saw Matt walk by, as soon as he saw me he stopped in his tracks and waved. “Y/n! Hi!” Matt smiled, walking over to me and giving me a small hug. He kneeled down to Grayson’s level and greeted him as well.

I had to admit, Matt and Nick were the most amazing uncles. Grayson looked up to them so much, especially Chris. Chris was Grayson’s hero, there was no doubt about that. Me and Chris were completely broken up, and now we had our own homes and shared custody over Grayson.

I saw Chris and my heart dropped. We made eye contact as he walked over to the front door. He gave me a somewhat smile.

“Daddy!” Grayson exclaimed, Chris chuckled and tickled him playfully before giving him a kiss on the cheek. Afterward he let go of Grayson and walked over to me.

“Hey.” He mumbled.

“Hi.” I whispered, looking at the ground momentarily before clearing my throat. I grabbed Grayson’s little backpack and his bag of toys he wanted to bring from my house to Chris’s house. I handed Chris the bags and he quietly took them.

“Thank you.” He spoke softly. I faked a smile and glanced at Grayson who looked between me and Chris.

“Um, just let me know what time I should pick him up on Sunday, alright?” I suggested, Chris nodded.

I kneeled down in front of Grayson and cupped his tiny face. “I’ll see you on Sunday, okay sweetheart? Make sure you listen to daddy and uncle Nick and Matt.” I pressed a small kiss to his forehead. Grayson frowned.

“Mommy, why do I have to keep leaving you?” Grayson asked me, my heart sank at hearing his words. I wrapped my arms around him and held him against me, Chris watched from behind.

“You aren’t leaving me baby. I’ll be okay. Have fun with Dad, alright?” I whispered soothingly into his ear, feeling a lump in my throat. Grayson nodded, I kissed his cheek before standing up.

Grayson ran off into Nick’s room. I sighed deeply as Chris leaned against the door frame.

Silence filled the air, Chris eventually spoke up. “Get home safely.” He told me.

“I will.” I nodded, Chris shut the front door.

I opened the drivers seat to my car and got in, starting it. I bit my lip, holding in all my pent up emotion as I looked down at my lap.

Maybe in another universe it would’ve worked out, I thought to myself. Maybe in a different lifetime we would’ve been together.

But yet again, some things aren’t mean to be.

Some people aren’t meant to be.

comment on this post to be apart of the taglist! 🤍🪽

(or lmk in my inbox)

AUTHORS NOTE 💌

lowkey kinda cried while writing this but i’m so sorry this request was from a while ago, i hope u enjoyed thoughhh. i love writing angst a lot more than smut tbh.

taglist:

@babyalliah-777 @stopdropandroll1 @h3arts4harry @sturniolossluttybitch @sturniooolos @gwennybenny @jetaimevous @vtaraa @doctorreid187 @ivysturnss @strvnolin @sturnzsun @sassysturniolo2008 @blahbel668 @jamiesturniolo @sabsturned @wiidfi0wer33 @bitchydragonparadisee @ofc1ofc @z03ey @pixie-sticks-are-good @elsxz1 @rafecameronsbitch @mariasturniolo @miss-tyummy @emmavzlsblog @mattlovesfall @slutforsturnioloss @itsfloriii @stvrnmc @sturnsxplr-25 @sturnobsessedwh0re @kierra-holland @itzzmfjade @ilovecats0402 @lizzymacdonald06 @0kt0 @sturnstvr @sturnn372 @emely9274

© delilahsturniolo

[webslingingslasher]

Frat Peter and he's all cocky, but he gets really shy when you're around and his friends keep teasing him about his little crush and how he's putty in your hands and you don't even know?

god i love him so much

“Your girls here, parker.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, as much as he denies no one believes him. You’re not his girl, not by a long shot but god does he wish you were. The jab still couldn’t stop him from swiveling his neck, sure enough you were laughing with friends, your wide smile made him smile too. You looked so pretty, he’s never seen someone fill out clothes the way you do. 

He needs to find a way to talk to you, it started as group partners and he may have played a little dumb to get you to study with him, just for some one on one time. Since then you’ve gotten closer, and everyday he feels more and more like a lovesick puppy. He’d do anything you ask, just so he can prove he could make you happy. 

“Pong, let’s go, parker.” 

Peter wants to whine like a toddler, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on you. Not that he needs to, and definitely not to scare off a potential suitor, he just wants to make sure you’re safe, that’s all. He looks you over again, you’re with friends and he thinks you’ll be alright. 

Right before he can turn back to his brothers your eyes flicker up, meeting his you send a grin. Peter’s been caught, he’s been looking over you for a minute and that smile said ‘caught you,’ it made his cheeks warm, a faint blush coats his cheeks and you can’t help but watch as his friends hoop and shake his shoulders, causing him to nearly run to the garage for a game of beer pong. 

Peter doesn’t know how long he’s been playing. He knows it’s been about three games, and he’s trying to act the perfect amount of buzzed. What he does know is that time stopped when you came looking for him, his ears picking up on your fluttery soft voice pushing for apologies.

“Do you know where peter is?” 

Wasted white girl looks appalled you asked, “who the fuck is peter?” 

“Oh. Um, parker?” 

Wasted white girl drags out an ‘oh,’ then points in his general direction, you raise on tiptoes, looking over the shoulders in the cramped room, catching sight of his snapback, turned backwards. You started to make your decent, politely excusing yourself and apologizing when you rub up against someone. 

You think about tapping his shoulder, but you’re a menace. You tug at his hat, pulling it off his head, before you can complete the task his hand grips your wrist, a dull tone comes from his mouth. 

“Don’t do that.” 

Your hand drops, you didn’t know there was a boundary there. 

“I’m sorry!” 

His head whips to yours, wide eyed and flushed. 

“I didn’t know it was you! You can do that, you have my permission.” 

His teammate, Ethan, if you remember correctly, coughed into his hand, one word slipping from his mouth made Peter jerk his shoulder into his. “Simp.” 

You furrow your eyebrows, “peter’s not a simp, that’s mean. You should say sorry.” 

Ethan is having fun, “oh trust me, if you knew what I know, you would call him a simp too.” Peter, in a panic, rips his hat off his head and throws it on yours, it falls over your eyes, you fix it with enough time to watch Peter mumble out “watch it,” before directing all his attention on you. 

“Looking good.” 

You do a spin for him, “think I can pledge next year?” 

“You have my vote.” 

Ethan had to bite back another simp comment. 

“Can you do me a favor?” 

Rushed, “anything.” 

Ethan can’t help his snort, he tries to hide it behind clearing his throat. 

Peter wants to kill his friend. 

“I’ve been ditched and I really have to pee, so would you mind watching my drink?” 

Peter holds out a hand to take it, his palm covering the open mouth. “It would be my honor.” 

You smile at him, “thanks, be right back.” 

“Five minutes and I come looking.” 

That was new, it was protective. It made you feel warm and safe inside, he was a really good friend. You promised you would be back, but the line was longer than you expected and you were unable to complete the task in just a few minutes. 

Peter kept count, and like he said, went looking. Ethan’s pissed that they’ve now lost the game to a forfeit, all because Peter was head over heels in a gushy crush. You bound down the steps in time to see Peter getting aggravated by his friend, you couldn’t help but overhear.

“You know this is super entertaining, right?” 

“Shut up, Ethan.” 

“It’s adorable. The way you run after her, bending to her will. Who knew parker had a bitch in him.” 

In one quick motion Peter had him pinned to the wall. 

“Don’t ruin this for me. I’m gonna make a move, alright? She makes me nervous and I’m not used to this, okay?” 

“Ask her on a fucking date, I’d put a thousand on the line she’d say yes.” 

You wonder who he’s talking about, you have more than an inkling it’s you but Peter’s never seemed interested, just a good friend. It must have been someone else. 

“I’m not betting on Y/N, I like her too much.” 

Oh fuck. He is talking about you, and it makes you warm and fuzzy all over. 

Ethan is right, you would say yes. 

You duck your head down, pressing against the bars on the stairway. 

“I’m okay with you betting on me, take the grand and then take me out on a nice date.” 

Peter’s eyes blew up, he wanted to punch Ethan. He also wanted to thank him. 

“It’s not like that!” Peter feels his brain melt, stop talking, why are you talking?  

You frown, “it’s not?” 

Ethan tries to push his head against the wall, his chin poking up high to get a view of you crouched down. “It is like that, you heard him.” He gags when Peter presses his forearm against his throat, it’s not meant to hurt, just silence. 

“Well, if it is like that, and I make you nervous, there really isn’t a need cause I would say yes.” 

Peter’s arm drops, “come here.” 

Ethan takes this as his moment to escape, you watch the stairs as you follow them down, narrowly missing a spilled beer. Peter meets you at the bottom of the staircase, he hands you over the drink he’d been watching. 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem.” 

You blinked at the boy, he stood there and looked at his hat on your head. You waited until it started to get awkward. 

“If you don’t ask, I will, then I’ll have ripped the rights from you. You’ll have to tell our grandkids you chickened out.” 

That doesn’t sound bad to him, but he thinks the least he can do is get the words out. 

“I would really, really like to take you out for dinner, is that okay?” 

You chew your cheek, “what’s your policy on kissing before the first date?” 

“It should be a thing.” 

You bite your lower lip to hide your smile, it didn’t work. 

“Wanna make it a thing?” 

[angel5ofp0rn]

idk, just a thought 😋

141 x Drunk!Reader / Jealous!Ghost x Drunk!Reader

TW: implied drunk sex

(idk what’s up with me and making the reader drunk all the time ???)

also idk i just like the idea of Soap being a perv and Ghost being a fuckin weirdo 🫣

You didn’t expect the guys to actually give a shit about your birthday... Maybe it was just the excuse to drink.

Still, you couldn't deny that you loved seeing the squad out of uniform and all dressed up for the night.

You even put on a little skirt and low-cut top, curled your hair and wore makeup for the first time in months.

Price bought you your first drink just as a 'happy birthday, kiddo', but it didn't stop there.

Soap got you a few shots and Gaz let you sip from his drinks throughout the night.

You were feeling pretty buzzed by the time you convinced some of the guys to move to the dance floor.

Ghost watched quietly from his spot at the bar across the room. You expected as much.

The two of you have been keeping your distance; you were basically still strangers, apart from the random glances you give each other during training.

Ghost thought of at least saying happy birthday to you, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

He wasn’t exactly an affectionate man. Wasn’t great at showing his feelings.

Feelings? The fuck was he thinking?

You’re just nice to look at, that’s all.

It was strange seeing you with your hair curled and your skin showing, almost like a real woman. He had a nagging thought that if the guys weren’t around, he would've gone over to you.

You and Soap are on the dance floor, you tipsy and swaying while he holds your waist, keeping you steady as he mumbled something close to your ear.

"I don't think so." You muse, looking up at Soap. He had asked if Price was watching the two of you, knowing Price has a tendency to act like a father towards you especially. "Why?"

Soap took a moment before he spoke again, the alcohol clearly getting to him. His words were becoming more and more slurred throughout the night, although he still had that Scottish accent mixed it that kept him sounding charming... though almost unintelligible.

"Y'know yer beautiful, aye? An' th' lads, they've been eyein' ya for the whole night. 'Course ol' Price, he's been' tryin' to keep us from gettin' yer attention… But even Ghost! Ghost thinks yer fuckin’ gorgeous.”

"Ghost thinks that?" You tried to focus your eyes on Soap’s, fighting the alcohol.

Soap leaned in even close now, his breath smelling like strong liquor. He even placed his hand on the small of your back, right above your skirt as he spoke again.

"Oh, aye. But we all do… I do."

You giggled at that. Soap's arm wrapped tightly around your waist now, pulling you chest to chest and murmuring more drunken ramblings into your ear.

You quickly forgot what Soap mentioned about Ghost.

But Ghost was still watching.

He watched the way Soap leaned in to whisper in your ear, the cocky smirk on his face, how dangerously close his hand was to your ass.

He watched you drape your arms around Soap’s neck, eyelids heavy. He watched how your eyes wouldn’t focus on Soap’s eyes; they kept darting down to his lips.

Ghost didn’t watch to watch anymore.

“The steamin’ hell’r you doin’, LT!” Soap calls after Ghost as the masked man grabs your arm and drags you off.

“Let me go!” You groan, trying to pull away from his grip. When that didn’t work, you tried to stomp his toes.

No use, he had those fucking steel toes on as usual. After more ignored pleas, you resorted into trying to drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes; like an unruly toddler.

Ghost didn’t miss a beat. He easily scooped you up and slung you over his shoulder as he head towards the bar’s exit.

The second he set you back to your feet outside on the pavement you tried to shove him.

Stupid idea, really. Fucker didn’t budge.

“What is your problem?” You glare at him.

“My problem?” Ghost’s voice was low. “You were about to let MacTavish feel you up in front of everyone in there.”

“Who cares if Soap and I have a bit of fun? What, are you jealous or something?” You groan.

“Of course I am!”

You froze. Your eyes locked in with his.

“You’re… jealous?” You ask again, softer this time.

You can see the subtle movement of Ghost’s jaw clenching beneath his balaclava.

“You’re drunk.” Ghost states. “You should get back to base and sleep it off.”

He’s right, of course. But you don’t listen.

You don’t fully realize you’re doing it, but you reach your hand up and touch his face.

Well, his mask.

Ghost’s breath hitches, and he thinks of swatting your hand away but he doesn’t. He lets your cup his face. Caress his jaw. Rub your thumb over the fabric covering his lips.

He even lets you pull him in closer, lets you get just an inch away from touching noses before he speaks again.

“I cant kiss you.”

You finally come back to earth, your drunken mind suddenly sobering.

“Oh.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, both silent. Both unsure of what happens now.

“Guess I’ll just go-”

“I want to.” Ghost speaks again. “I would like to.”

“Okay…”

“But I can’t.” His huge arms cross as he looks down at up. For something so genuine, he’s saying it as if it’s a threat.

“Right…” You nod slowly, your drunken brain trying its best to gauge what’s happening. “So..?”

“I can’t have you flirting with MacTavish.” He practically growls. “He doesn’t want more than a quick fuck.”

You frown at this, eyebrows lowering into a scowl.

“So you won’t kiss me, but I can’t flirt with anyone else?”

“Yes.” Ghost acts as if this was common sense.

“‘s’not fair.” You roll your eyes. “You can’t do that t’me.”

“Well, I am.”

“Are not.” You challenge. You push past him and re-enter the bar, leaving him outside and alone.

“Bonnie!” Soap calls you over as soon as he sees you.

He’s sat at a table with a bunch of other men that you don’t recognize. He pats his thigh, inviting you to have a sit on his lap.

Ghost’s warning still fresh in your head makes you hesitate.

But who is he to tell you who you can and can’t flirt with? He doesn’t even talk to you.

You try not to stumble as you make your way towards Soap, accepting the invite to sit on his lap. His arm instantly wraps around your waist, holding you in place.

“Didn’t know you had a barracks bunny.” One of the men snickers as he looks you over.

You frown, looking to Soap, waiting for him to correct them. To explain that you’re actually on the squad- no, the best sniper on the squad. An asset to the team, really.

Instead, Soap laughs along with the rest of them, giving your thigh a squeeze. “Nah, nah. ’m keepin’ this bunny all to m’self.”

You had to have heard him wrong, right? Maybe it was the alcohol affecting your hearing.

Before you could defend yourself, you felt Soap’s hand sliding up your thigh, slipping under your skirt.

Your face is burning. The guys all laugh. You feel sick.

Flirting and kissing is one thing… Soap treating you like a sex toy is another.

“Soap, stop.” You mumble, pushing his hand away.

Soap gives you a wink. He thinks you’re playing some sort of game here. His hand starts to creep up your bare thigh again. His lips press against your neck.

“I said stop!” You stand up and shove him by his chest, admittedly harder than you intended to.

Soap landed on his back on the dirty bar floor, his face a mix of pissed off and confused.

Price was by your side immediately, pulling you away from the table as Gaz helped Soap to his feet.

“I’m sorry, Price, I just-“

“I’ve got you a cab outside. Get your ass back to base and sleep it off.” Price barked.

Sober you could handle commands and threats like they were nothing.

Drunk you started tearing up immediately.

Price mumbled something that sounded like ‘for fuck’s sake, kid’ as you turned and walked outside.

Ghost was still outside, balaclava lifted so he could smoke a cigarette.

You didn’t notice him as you slid into the back seat of the cab, but he saw you.

Then he saw Soap and Price exiting the bar one your cab took off.

He watched calmly, smoking as normal while Price stood with his foot on the side of Soap’s head/face, Soap’s cheek pressed against the pavement.

He couldn’t hear what they were fighting about and frankly he didn’t care. He wondered if any of it had been the cause of your teary eyes.

•••

You lift your face off of your pillow and squint at the caller ID as your phone rang.

You’d only been back in your room for about an hour at this point and you’ve been trying to battle the spins.

You swipe to answer the call, smushing your face back into the pillow and closing your eyes again.

“H’llo?”

“Make it back to base okay, kiddo?” Price’s stern, gruff voice came through the speaker

“Mhm.” You mumble your response.

“Good. Sorry about MacTavish; drunken Scot can’t handle his alcohol…” Price sighs. “He’ll be dealt with in the morning.”

“s’okay.” You nod even though he can’t see it.

“You sure you’re alright then?”

“Mhm…”

Price exhaled a deep breath. “Get some shut eye. I'll be seeing you at 0530 sharp for PT."

"Yes sir. Love you."

You didn't fully realize that you told Price that you love him as if you were speaking to your dad.

Price was quiet for a second before his tone subtly shifted to sounding more gentle. "Love you too, kid. I'll see you at five-thirty."

You end the call and force yourself to sit up despite your still tipsy state. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep with everything on your mind.

Well… with Ghost on your mind.

You call him next, not really expecting him to answer at all. He kind of doesn’t; there’s no voice on the other end, but you could tell he was there.

“Ghost?”

“Yeah.”

“So- Why… why didn’t you kiss me?” You stand up off of the bed and pace your room. More like stumble around your room.

“Can’t.”

“But why?” You groan. “Is it because of Price?”

“We work together.”

“So?” You find a hoodie and pull it on over your going out clothes. “That didn’t stop Soap.”

Silence.

“And I… I really wanted you to, y’know? And… I think I said ‘love you’ to Price. Y’think he’ll be mad at me?” You start kicking your heels off.

“…you told Price that you love him?”

You kind of giggle at that, hearing it back. “No, I didn’t tell him I love him. I just said ‘love you’ to him.”

You think you hear Ghost snort at that. “Are we done here?”

“Well, no…”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to open your door.”

Ghost doesn’t speak. You look around the hall to make sure none of the guys would see you.

“Please?”

The call ends. Ghost slowly opens his door and peers at you from the small open space.

You look up at him, messy hair and mascara smudged under your eyes. Your hoodie covered most of your outfit and you were barefoot.

“You look ridiculous.”

“Can I come in?” You ignore his comment.

Ghost hesitates but he does step aside and let you into his room.

It was so dark in his room that you almost didn’t notice that he was maskless. Too bad you couldn’t see him better.

You didn’t really know what you planned on doing now that you were in his room… You honestly didn’t think he’d let you get this far.

Ghost’s hand touched your face. His thumb wiped under your eyes, attempting to fix your makeup.

The gesture was considerate though you knew he was just making the smudge bigger.

“I can’t kiss you.” Ghost repeated his words from earlier, but this time it was softer. More gentle.

You shook your head.

“We don’t have to kiss.”

[rafedarling]

queen have u seen the new photos of Drew. 🤭🤭

dad!Drew x reader where like it’s the blue suit red carpet and the whole family is in italy together and reader thinks drew looks so yummy so it’s like smut where they get back to the hotel and they have to be quiet AF

yass girl and not gonna lie, he looks fucking hot !

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐤𝐲

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader summary: at the venice film festival 2024, drew and you, both acclaimed actors, make a stunning appearance on the red carpet for the premiere of the new movie, ‘queer’. your two-year-old twin daughters, ophelia and olympia, accompany you and drew, captivating everyone with their sweet presence. after the event, the starkey returns to their luxurious hotel suite, where, after putting the girls to bed, you and drew indulges in a passionate, intimate moment, trying to keep quiet as your daughters sleeping in the room next door. | word count: 2,8k warning(s): english is not my native language. 18+, smut, piv, creampie, cum play, sexual content, language, MINOR DNI!!

au: fill this form if you want to be tag. like, reblog & reply or much appreciated! tagging: @rafeyslamb

As the sun was setting over Venice, casting the city in a warm, golden glow as you and Drew Starkey arrived at the Venice Film Festival. The air buzzed with excitement as stars from around the world gathered to celebrate the premiere of QUEER, a film that had garnered significant attention for its bold storytelling and representation. Tonight, you and Drew were not just co-stars but partners, sharing the spotlight with your two-year-old twin daughters, Ophelia and Olympia.

As you stepped onto the red carpet, the cameras flashed, capturing the perfect image of a beautiful family. Drew looked stunning in a deep navy suit, the black lapels adding a sharp contrast that highlighted his chiseled features. His hair was styled just so, a little tousled, giving him an effortlessly handsome look. You wore a flowing, elegant gown that complemented Drew’s suit perfectly, the fabric shimmering under the lights as you walked hand in hand.

Ophelia and Olympia were dressed in matching white dresses, their blonde curls bouncing with every step as they clung to your hands, their little faces a mixture of awe and curiosity. They had been to events before, but nothing quite like this. The sheer scale of the festival, the grandeur of the venue, and the attention from the media were overwhelming for anyone, let alone two toddlers. Yet, they handled it with the grace of seasoned professionals, waving shyly at the cameras, their innocent smiles melting the hearts of everyone watching.

As you posed for photos, Drew leaned down to whisper in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You look incredible tonight,” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for him. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, glancing at him from beneath your lashes. “But I think the girls are stealing the show.”

Drew chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at Ophelia and Olympia. “They are, aren’t they? Just like their mom—beautiful and captivating.”

The interviews followed, and as usual, Drew handled the press with charm and ease. The reporters were eager to hear about your experiences on set, the dynamics of working together as a couple, and of course, how you managed to balance your careers with raising your daughters. Drew’s answers were thoughtful and sincere, emphasizing how much he valued the time spent with his family, both on and off the set.

“They’re the reason I do this,” he said, glancing at you and the girls with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Having them here with me tonight makes it all the more special.”

The night continued with more photos, more interviews, and a palpable sense of anticipation for the premiere. But as much as you enjoyed the spotlight, the most important part of the evening was the shared experience with Drew and your daughters. You could see the pride in Drew’s eyes every time he looked at you or the girls, a silent acknowledgment of the journey you had been on together.

After the screening of QUEER, which was met with a standing ovation, the four of you were whisked back to your hotel in a sleek black car. The night air was cool and refreshing, a welcome contrast to the heat of the cameras and the lights of the red carpet. Ophelia and Olympia, who had been little stars all evening, were starting to show signs of fatigue. Their little eyes drooped, and they leaned heavily against you and Drew, their tiny bodies growing limp with exhaustion.

Back at the hotel, you and Drew worked together to get the girls ready for bed. The suite was spacious and luxurious, with a separate bedroom for the twins. After helping them out of their dresses and into their pajamas, you read them a story, your voice soft and soothing as they snuggled into their beds. Drew sat beside you, one arm draped around your shoulders, his other hand gently stroking Olympia’s hair as her eyes slowly closed.

Ophelia was the first to fall asleep, her hand clutching her favorite stuffed bunny. Olympia held out a little longer, her eyes fluttering open and closed until finally, she gave in to sleep. You and Drew sat there for a moment longer, watching your daughters’ peaceful faces, their soft breathing filling the room with a sense of calm.

Finally, you and Drew quietly left the room, closing the door behind you with a gentle click. The suite was silent, the only sounds the soft hum of the air conditioning and the faint noise of the city outside. You leaned against the door, your eyes meeting Drew’s across the room.

“They were amazing tonight,” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips.

Drew walked over to you, his gaze intense as he cupped your face in his hands. “They take after their mother,” he said softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You were incredible too. I’m so proud of you.”

You felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks at his words. “Thank you,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Drew’s eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. “We finally have some time to ourselves,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “What do you want to do?”

A shiver of anticipation ran down your spine at the implication in his tone. You slid your hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. “I can think of a few things,” you replied, your voice breathless as you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.

Drew responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours as he pressed you against the door. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the intense need that was building between you. His hands roamed your body, expertly undoing the zipper of your dress and letting it fall to the floor in a soft rustle of fabric.

You broke the kiss just long enough to help him out of his jacket and shirt, your fingers trembling slightly as you undid the buttons. Drew’s hands found your waist, pulling you close as he kissed you again, more urgently this time, his need for you growing with every passing second.

He backed you towards the bed, his hands never leaving your body as he guided you onto the soft mattress. The cool sheets contrasted with the heat of his skin as he hovered above you, his gaze raking over your body with a look of pure adoration.

“You’re so beautiful,” Drew whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he kissed a trail down your neck, his lips leaving a burning path on your skin. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You arched into his touch, your fingers threading through his hair as he continued his descent, his mouth hot against your collarbone. “Drew...” you moaned softly, your voice trembling with need as you felt him reach for the clasp of your bra, expertly undoing it and tossing it aside.

He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours as he gently cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, making you gasp. Drew smiled at your reaction, clearly pleased with himself as he dipped his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

Your back arched off the bed at the sensation, a moan escaping your lips as you clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, every nerve in your body on high alert as Drew lavished attention on your breasts, his hands and mouth working in perfect harmony to drive you wild.

After what felt like an eternity of blissful torment, Drew continued his journey downward, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach, his hands guiding your hips as he slowly pulled your panties down, leaving you completely exposed to him. He paused for a moment, his eyes darkening with lust as he took in the sight of you, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as he gently spread your legs, positioning himself between them.

You bit your lip, anticipation building as you felt the heat of his breath against your most sensitive area. “Drew, please...” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need.

He didn’t make you wait any longer. With a low growl of desire, he dipped his head, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sensation was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you, your hips bucking involuntarily as you moaned his name. Drew’s hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he continued to pleasure you, his tongue and lips working together to drive you closer and closer to the edge.

You clung to the sheets, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations as Drew brought you to the brink of ecstasy. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it any longer, he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours as he inserted a finger inside you, the sensation of his long, skilled fingers pushing you over the edge.

You cried out, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm as Drew continued to work you through it, his fingers and mouth never stopping until you were completely spent, your body going limp with exhaustion.

Drew climbed back up your body, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss as he positioned himself at your entrance. You were still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, but the feel of him so close, so ready, reignited the fire inside you.

You wrapped your legs around Drew’s waist, pulling him closer as he hovered above you, his breath warm and ragged against your lips. His eyes locked onto yours, a mixture of love, desire, and admiration swirling within them. He held himself there, just at your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.

“Are you ready?” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

You nodded, unable to find the words as anticipation coursed through your veins. The look in his eyes was enough to send another shiver of pleasure down your spine. You could feel him, hot and hard, pressing against you, and the need to have him inside you was almost unbearable.

“Please,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need. “I need you, Drew.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. With a slow, deliberate movement, Drew pushed forward, filling you inch by inch. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and pressure as he stretched you, your bodies fitting together like they were made for each other. You both moaned as he entered you fully, the feeling of him deep inside you almost overwhelming.

Drew paused, his forehead resting against yours as he took a moment to savor the sensation, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“So do you,” you replied breathlessly, your hands gripping his shoulders as you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. The connection between you was palpable, an unspoken bond that had only deepened over time. Every touch, every movement felt like a promise, a testament to the love you shared.

Drew started to move, slow and steady at first, his thrusts deep and measured. Each movement sent ripples of pleasure through your body, building a delicious tension that made you gasp and cling to him even tighter. His hands roamed your body, one settling on your hip to guide your movements, the other brushing the hair away from your face as he kissed you deeply.

The kiss was passionate, filled with the kind of raw, unfiltered emotion that only came from years of love and trust. You could feel the intensity of his feelings in the way he kissed you, in the way he held you close as if you were the most precious thing in the world. It was more than just physical; it was a connection of souls, a merging of hearts.

As Drew’s thrusts became more urgent, the pace quickened, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of another orgasm. He seemed to sense it too, his movements becoming more purposeful, his hand slipping between your bodies to find that sensitive bundle of nerves that he knew would push you over the edge.

When he touched you there, the sensation was electric, your body responding instantly as pleasure exploded within you. You cried out his name in silece, your back arching off the bed as the orgasm ripped through you, your body trembling with the force of it. Drew didn’t stop, his movements relentless as he continued to drive into you, prolonging your pleasure until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

Finally, with a few more powerful thrusts, Drew followed you over the edge, his own release coming with a guttural groan as he buried himself deep inside you. You could feel the warmth of his release, the pulsing of his body against yours as he collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving with exertion.

For a moment, the two of you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, both of you trying to catch your breath as the aftershocks of pleasure continued to ripple through your bodies. The room was filled with the sounds of your breathing, mingling together in the stillness of the night.

Drew finally lifted his head to look at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. He reached up to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek as he smiled down at you. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with sincerity.

You smiled back at him, your heart swelling with love. “I love you, Drew” you replied, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. “I love you, Drew.”

“I love you too,” he whispered back, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. It was a kiss filled with all the love and affection he couldn’t put into words, a promise that he would always be there for you, no matter what.

He rolled over, pulling you with him so that you were lying on his chest, your legs still entwined. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that lulled you into a state of contentment. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let you go.

The two of you lay there in silence for a while, simply enjoying the closeness, the feel of each other’s bodies pressed together. The world outside might have been filled with the glitz and glamour of the festival, but in that moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s love.

Eventually, Drew shifted slightly, his hand running up and down your back in a soothing motion. “We should probably get some sleep,” he murmured, though there was a note of reluctance in his voice. “The girls will be up early.”

You chuckled softly, knowing he was right. As much as you wanted to stay in this moment forever, the responsibilities of parenthood would call soon enough. “Yeah,” you agreed, though you made no move to get up just yet.

Drew smiled, tightening his hold on you. “We’ll have plenty of nights like this,” he promised, his voice filled with certainty. “Plenty of moments where it’s just you and me.”

You nodded, feeling a warm sense of contentment settle over you. “I’m looking forward to it,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest before finally, reluctantly, rolling off of him.

You both moved slowly, the exhaustion from the day and the intensity of your lovemaking catching up with you. Drew helped you pull the covers up over your bodies, his arm wrapping around you once more as you settled against his side. The bed was warm and comfortable, and you could feel yourself drifting off almost immediately, the events of the day a pleasant blur in your mind.

As you closed your eyes, you felt Drew press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Goodnight, my love,” he whispered, his voice the last thing you heard before sleep claimed you.

“Goodnight,” you murmured back, a smile on your lips as you finally surrendered to the peaceful darkness.

And with that, you both fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

[babygirl-riley]

Daddy’s Gonna Buy You a Mockingbird

When coming home Simon hears his daughter start to fuss.

Warnings: angst, mentions of childhood trauma, fluff, swearing, Dad!Simon

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

Simon was fucking tired, the mission was long and difficult. It took them 4 months to plan the fucker just for the target to know their every move. He lost lots of men and women those nights, they had to camp somewhere in the middle of the desert cause transportation got fucked.

He unlocked the door of his home and walked in. Immediately he heard the whimpering. Simon heard you trying to lullaby both of your toddler. Simon was told that she has been sick for almost 4 days. It was teething that led to two ear infections. His poor angel was getting her ass jumped left and right with them infections.

He took his mask and boots off leaving them on the shelf near the door. He locked the door as he made his way through the hallway. When getting closer he heard you sniffling. “I don’t know what to do baby girl,” The toddler cried harder as you cried with her. “I am sorry. What do you need baby?”

Simon tapped the door making you jump. At first you thought you were going to fight but then relief came through. “Simon,” You started to sob. “Just take a shower and I will be there in minute.”

“I can take her.” He said walking fully in.

“No,” You wiped your tears quickly before shaking your head. “It’s fine you just got home. Please just take a shower love.”

Simon nodded, he didn’t want to but he could tell if he didn’t you would burst. He saw the dark circles under your eyes, how red your eyes were. You haven’t gotten any sleep. That tugged at his best strings, you have been dealing with this all by yourself so he wants to be able to help you.

Simon quickly got into the shower, washing all the paint, blood, sweat, and dirt from him. He waited for a moment before turning the faucet off and get out. He heard your sobs once more as he wrapped the towel around himself. Opening the door that showed you laying on your side curled up. Simon walked up to you and sat next to your body. He placed a hand on your hip rubbing circles.

“Not the best welcome home,” You sighed turning to face him. “Im sorry.”

“For what love? Taking care of our child? Don’t ever apologize for that.” He reassured, basically whispering.

“Just me crying and Im so fucking tried. She doesn’t sleep nothing longer than maybe 5 minutes before she is screaming. And I wanted to give you a warmer welcome and instead buzzed you off and…”

“Thats enough sweethear’ it has been a long week for you,” He got up to grab sweatpants and went around to his side to pull the blankets up and over him. You watched as he laid and scooted closer to you wrapping his arm around you. “Come ‘ere, get some sleep my dove.”

He doesn’t remember when you fell asleep or even him. Simon heard the soft whimpers start, you didn’t move and he was glad that you didn’t. He was also very happy that you moved out of his grasp while in your sleep. Simon carefully and quietly headed out of the room. Rubbing his tired eyes as he made it to his daughter’s room.

When he approached the room there she was. Standing up in her crib crying, once her eyes landed on his she cried harder. “Daddy.” She called a couple of times.

“Alright princess, you’re alright daddy’s here.” He said picking her up.

It took him a back of how hot she is, sweat gripping her pjs. Her crying increasing as she gripped onto his shoulder. “Shhh I know,” He said bouncing up and down. “I know baby.”

He felt her diaper and walked to the changing table, which to her was a sin. When he placed her down she screamed a bit, immediately he gently placed a palm on her chest. Putting small pressure. She stopped screaming as she still cried. His daughter loved when he did that when she wanted to be cuddled yet when he had to do certain things like this.

Because of how many times he has done this with her, he one handed did the diaper. He left her only in her diaper, get some air to her skin due to sweating and her being hot. As she still cried, he picked her up and lead out of the room walking to the kitchen. “Let’s try a warm bottle and me a tea yeah?” He said quietly, holding her close as she still cried.

While working on the bottle he rocked back and forth waiting for the teapot to heat up. He wrapped both of his arms around her holding her more close. “I’m ‘orry my birdie, teeth are arseholes. I know.”

She held around his neck placing her head down on his shoulder. Simon kept holding on until the smallest noise came from the pot. He didn’t want to wake you, he was even surprised you haven’t woke up yet. His daughter became more whimpering than crying.

He poured his mug first so the water could cool down just a bit more. Then poured water into her bottle. He made his tea before finish making her bottle. Afterward he walked to the living room and placed the tv on. Miss Rachel was her favorite to watch lately, that’s what you mentioned.

He placed her forward towards the tv as he placed his mug on the side table. Simon held her close to him as she drank her bottle. Rubbing her belly as he watched the show with her. He hated this woman, just found her annoying, you mentioned to him that it was her job to do that fake high pitch thing. To him it just made him want to mute it and never see it again.

His daughter leaned closer to him as he sipped his tea. She sniffled and hiccuped due to crying the whole time. He smoothed her thick blonde hair back, making her eyes roll. Another thing she gets from him. People massaging his scalp or play with his hair he would pass out from.

After three videos both Simon and her were laying on the couch. He had her on his chest with a blanket on both of them. “Shh I know,” He said as she started to whimper again. “Daddy is here, don’t worry. He will stay. I would do anythin’ for you not to be in this pain.”

She sucked on her binki her eyes rolling fighting sleep. Yet another thing she got from him. Fighting sleep. Simon remembered when you told him you were pregnant with her. He was terrified. Scared that he wouldn’t be good to her, that he would turn into his own father.

Simon actually left for hours from the house making you think that it was a bad idea to tell him. Until he came back in tears, first time you seen him break down. Telling you his fears and worries. You would comfort him and hold him that he has never been an ounce of his father. Never be like him.

Simon remembered when he asked for his dad to hold him. His dad told him to stop being a child, to grow up. Or even watch him cry in pain and laugh at the fact he was crying. He even remember Tommy being hit for even mentioning that his throat hurt. Telling him that is something to be crying about when he was hurt.

Because of those memories he was going on for months in his mind that he didn’t believed that, didn’t believe that he would be a good father, it wasn’t until she was born. When he held her in his big hands. He knew that this was the opportunity to not be his low life father. And yet here he was being not that, his father would have never been comforting him when he was sick. Holding him. Loving him. He was grateful to be able to be here for her. For you. To show the love and care that he wanted to.

Simon sighed as he felt her breathing slow down, falling into deep sleep. He settled more down into the couch as he closed his eyes, holding on to his princess.

You woke up with the sun beaming into the room. You groaned as you placed a hand to where Simon would have been. It was cold. You opened your eyes and frowned. Was a dream that he was home? You sighed getting up and heading to your daughter’s room. For it to be empty too.

You walked around the house figuring out where the hell was your daughter. Which when you heard Miss Rachel on the tv and two figures on the couch. It made your heart swell. You walked to around to face both your daughter clinging onto her father. Simon softly snoring and his daughter as well. You forget how similar they look.

The soft features of when they slept. Their hair. Their nose. You also noticed that she was just in her diaper and didn’t look sweaty. You inhaled deeply feeling a bit of relief. Hopefully that means that her temperature went down and back to normal.

You smiled thinking about the time where you were almost about to pop. Simon holding your tummy telling your daughter that he will protect her with every ounce of his being. Not matter where or what she is doing, he will be there. You would play with his hair as he rubbed your tummy, feeling her move every time he would place a hand on your tummy.

You grabbed both bottle and mug, walking back to the kitchen. “Definitely going to be a daddy’s girl.” You whispered, starting to make breakfast for your perfect family.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Just us

a/n: This is purely self indulgent because I saw Matt’s story and I’m so tired I will self comfort myself with this. Enjoy!

summery: You’re living with the boys and come back home after the longest day to find Matt in the studio. Watching him work had always been your favorite way to decompress. Being friends for years means it comes with extra perks, ones that make you question if you both are just friends after all.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You were barely standing on your feet as you finally dragged yourself home. The day you had had been excruciatingly long and screw day, the past couple of weeks you had has been insane. It felt as if you had been up on your legs, doing something at every given moment. There was little sleep too and now you had reached the level of tiredness where even if you were exhausted at the end of the day you still couldn’t fall asleep.

The familiar buzzing of the house managed to pull a smile from you as you kicked off your shoes. There were perks of not living alone. Especially on these long days like this. You knew that you at least wouldn’t have to worry about feeding yourself. And some chores that you just couldn’t push yourself to do, someone else might handle. Plus, you got to come back to a place that didn’t suffocate you with loneliness. That was one of the reasons Noah had offered you a place in the house. You had been friends with them for years so you all were pretty good at reading each other without words. So when handling studies, apparent, and part-time jobs with Bad Omens got hard, they jumped in offering you a lifeline.

“Look who is back”, Jolly nodded your way with a smile. “Got you your kombucha so you can get out of my hair now”, you lowered the grocery bag onto the counter. Three sets of hands instantly move to rummage through it. “You are all toddlers”, you snorted. “You usually bring cool shit back”, Noah shrugged, turning over a yogurt box. “Yeah, snacks for my children”, you shook your head, hand running over your shoulders. “Pasta for dinner”, Jolly moved his hand to rub your back, you turned to him knowing that it was his way of asking if everything was fine. So you gave him the best smile you could master, “All in, extras cheese for all my troubles”, you bowed dramatically before moving towards the stairs.

With a deep sigh, you made your way up. Stopping to drop off your blazer and jeans in your room. Frowning slightly at the lack of hoodies in your drawers. Well, there were plenty of them just… not the ones that called your name. So with only an oversized shirt on your body, you once again ventured into the hallway. You knew that not many people understood that but the sound of heavy music blasting from the end of a hallway instantly made you feel better.

You knew that it had to be Matt there considering that you haven’t seen him downstairs. He hated being interrupted when he worked. It was called Matt Sound Kingdom for a reason. You knew that you shouldn’t bother him, especially now that they had been working so hard on creating new music and how easily an interruption could defuse inspiration, yet you still carefully pushed down onto the door handle, pushing the door ajar just slightly.

And here he sat, cap on his head. All windows shut only the mood lights he preferred on, even if you fussed about it not being good for his eyes. Leaning your head on the frame you let your gaze just linger there. You loved watching all of them fully submerged in their element but it was always something about Matt doing his thing, getting all bossy that got you the most. Some people thought he was standoffish or cold at times but you knew better. He was passionate and that sometimes came with the price.

“I made it into your daydream”, his voice startled you, making you bang your head onto the door slightly. “Jesus, Matt”, you hissed, pressing your palm onto the sore spot. “It wasn’t me snooping around”, he threw you a look before pushing his chair back slightly as he turned to you. With an eye roll, you stepped inside, closing the door behind you. Not missing the way Matt’s eyes lingered on your bare legs. His jaw flexed as he licked his lips.

“So, you haven’t seen my shirt, have you”, he mused, making you look down as well. “Well, it was out of service for you”, you shoot him an innocent smile, turning to pull a chair out for yourself. “Don’t need that, come here”, Matt patted his thigh but something about sitting down on his lap with just a shirt and thong made you halt. You two were close. Fuck that, you shared beds on multiple occasions and it was never awkward. He was a total black cat. Not too big on physical touch, only when he was overstated for it did he slip into your room for a cuddle.

“Matt”, you muttered in a warning tone. “Y/n”, he shot back instantly, “Come here, I can tell that it was a shit day”. That completely threw you for the loops and you instantly felt the burning sensation in your eyes. “It was fine”, you tried to make it sound truthful enough. But Matt just shook his head, leaning forward. One hand grabbed the back of your thigh as he pulled you closer to him. Leaving you no choice but to straddle him. Now buried deep in the crook of your neck, with his scent all over you, you couldn’t help but let out the deepest sigh. One that had been pressing on you all day long.

“That sounded rough, do you want to talk about it or nah”, Matt asked, kissing the side of your head. You simply shook your head, not mustering enough energy to give him a proper answer. “Fine, but we are talking about it at some point”, he pointed out, pulling your legs tighter around himself before scooting the chair closer to his sound tech. “You mind if I continue this for a bit?”, it was sweet that he asked, considering that you were the one interrupting him. So you shook your head again, letting the heavy sound slowly drown out all the thoughts in your head.

That’s how you both stayed. Completely losing sense of time. With you lazily twirling the ends of his hair while he worked. And Matt whose hand slipped up and down your thighs, as he nodded along to the sound. Or drumming his fingers over your lower back as he searched for the right beat. You pulled back slightly after a while, wanting that up-close privilege of watching him once again.

“What?”, he muttered, catching your gaze. You just smiled at him, “I love seeing you like this”, you mussed, reaching to put his cap backward, so it wasn’t so much over his face. “Like what?”, his fingers reached out to carefully brush away the loose strands of hair away from your eyes. “Just being you”, you shrugged, “I know not many people step their foot here. I know I have a free pass”. Matt chuckled slightly, “Who told you that?”, “This guy called Matt, he’s really sweet”, you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Is that so, you like him?”, your heart skipped a beat because you doubted that he knew just how much you liked him. “Yeah, I do”, you muttered, watching him watch you. “He likes you too”, Matt hummed. “How would you know?”, you shook your head. “He told me too, we had a conversation about you”, his eyes slowly crept onto your lips before he pulled his gaze back up to meet your eyes.

“Matt”, you muttered, you two had tiptoed the line multiple times. But both of you had always put the band first. You knew that the rest of the boys wouldn’t mind but work and love in one mix nearly always ended in tragedy. “Can I do something stupid?”, he asked, fingers slipping to hold onto your hips, slowly reaching beneath the hem of your shirt. “Not if I do it first”, you breathed, cupping the back of his neck as you leaned forward, brushing your lips over his. He chased the kiss almost instantly, pushing deeper into you. It was equally slow and passionate as it was messy. You felt a shiver run down your back as the realization slowly hit you, making you pull back.

“Shit, sorry”, you grunted, trying to wriggle out of his hands only to have him firmly holding you down. “And where do you think you’re running now?”, Matt mussed, licking his lips. “Don’t do that”, you huffed, pushing his face further away from you. “Do what?”, he churched, “Look so fucking kissable”, you whined, making Matt let out a full deep laugh. “I’ve been dreaming about kissing you ever since that New Year’s kiss”, he admitted, making your shoulders droop slightly, “No, you have not”.

He shot you a look, “Love, I practically sleep in your bed every night after that, how else do you want me to show it to you”, while that was true you never took it as a sign of anything more than him wanting a cuddle. “Start by taking me on a date”, you pointed at his chest. “That can be arranged”, Matt mussed, leaning in to kiss your lips once more. “And others?”, you pulled back watching him. “Considering that you are here in my shirt with only a thong…”, he stared but you quickly hit his chest playfully, “They already know, I think we were the last ones to catch up. We don’t have to tell anyone anything, though”, he reassured you, hosing you high onto his thighs. “Just us”, you muttered. “That’s all that matters for now, baby - just us”, Matt kissed your temple before reaching to pull your head back, a smirk forming onto his face as his lips met your neck.

[mactavishsgfandwife]

141 and Their Embarrassing Childhood Haircuts (HC)

just a silly idea i had about what funny haircuts the 141 boys would have been given as children (that they would definitely find embarrassing) and how they’d react to you seeing it simon’s is a little sad (☹️) but mostly just silly fluff not proofread because it’s wayy too long (oops)

his aunt leaves the both of you alone in the sitting room, on her way to procure some tea for you all. on your own in the room with him, you begin to wander around and inspect the mementos that line the walls. your fingers trace a trail along the top of the bookshelf and over the filing cabinet, before you turn your attention to the collection of little family photos on the mantelpiece.

mostly, they’re photos of relatives you don’t recognise - wedding photos, holiday snaps, the compulsory photo of a toddler in a bubble bath - but right in the middle is a small blue picture frame, with little angels painted around it and, well, the photo inside…

you burst into a fit of giggles and his head turns from the random bowl he was closely inspecting, on the side table next to his seat, to you.

"what is it?" he grins as he looks up at you, amused.

but when you turn the picture frame to him so that he can see, that entertained chuckle turns into an audible groan…

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

i feel like simon was definitely that kid in class when you were about 6 who had a shaved head

like, a little boy with a buzzcut that was never allowed to be grown out

si probably got some judgement as a little kid for looking a bit ‘rough’ :( when in reality he was just a normal, sweet kid who liked batman and angel delight (this cheap pudding from the 70s that we have in england which you mix with milk to make a mousse kind of thing, it’s lowkey so good and it’s random but i swear simon would have loved angel delight as a kid)

i reckon his dad buzzed his hair and probably wasn’t very gentle about it

a photo of simon as a little kid, in his blue primary school uniform. he’s got no hair - well, as close to no hair as you can get without actually razoring it off. gappy teeth, a big smile and the beginnings of adult si’s strong nose. he’s pretty cute, and the photo is a little yellowed from age, with a little tear in the corner.

"oh, god…" he groans, finding the photo a little humorous, "don’t remind me."

"you look so cute!" you laugh softly, "how old were you here..?"

"pfft… probably about 6 or 7," he shrugs, seeming a little dismissive.

"have you ever not had a buzzcut?"

"you’re not seeing those photos, love," he laughs out loud, and stands up to take the photograph from you.

he goes to put the photo back, to bring the focus of the conversation to something else, but for a second you think you almost catch his thumb gently stroke the cheek of the little boy in the photo, a momentary sadness in his eyes. but that’s only for a moment, and as he places the frame back into its proper place, he grins and turns to you.

"what, y’think it’s a good look? reckon it’d suit you, we could match."

Captain John Price

bowl cut.

i just imagine price’s mum placing a literal bowl on his head and just cutting around it, as he sits on a stool in the kitchen

and he would have turned up to school the next day feeling like such a handsome little boy because his mum had told him how smart he looked 😭 bless

a photo of price, wearing his scouts uniform with pride, turned slightly to the side to display the ‘merseyside scouts’ patch on his sleeve and the union jack on his chest - but the star of the show was that ungodly bowl cut on his head. it was like something out of an old yearbook photo, and he looked very pleased with himself and all his scouts badges, despite the medieval squire-esque trim. it was funny, but he was also a really cute kid.

"ah," he chuckled, standing up to get a better look, "blimey, what a haircut…"

"i like it! i think you should go back to this, honey. it’s a good look."

"i’m not so sure about that," he teases, "but if you really want me to…"

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish

johnny is pretty energetic, i feel like he would definitely have cut his own hair as a kid - terrible fringes and very wonky moptops galore. and he definitely did it more than once.

imagine his mum is just making tea, having left him playing with some arts and crafts supplies. but when he runs in giggling, a pair of paper scissors in his hand, she screams and almost drops the saucepan. much to his amusement

"JOHNNY, DÈ RINN THU?!" (johnny, what have you done?!) as she chases him down the hallway to take the scissors away before he can do any more damage

it’s a photo of johnny, aged 5 or 6, beaming as he poses with the glasgow rangers goalkeeper allan mcgregor. you only know who he is because johnny’s mentioned once or twice before meeting the goalkeeper of some random scottish football team in 2002, as if he met brad pitt or the king of england.

at first, it looks like his hair was ruffled by the football player, but then you realise… it’s just cut like that? as johnny peeks over your shoulder, he laughs, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"oh, i remember! best day of my life at the time. until I met you, that is," he grins.

"i like the haircut," you tease, pointing to his uneven fringe in the photo, with random patches of long and short hair scattered throughout.

"oh, aye, i was a little hairdresser!"

"don’t quit your day job," you smirk, gently placing the photo frame back down on the mantlepiece. he laughs at the cheeky grin appearing on your face, and shakes his head,

"aww, y’don’t like it? thought girlfriends were supposed to be supportive, y’know."

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

honestly i wasn’t sure what to write for gaz, given i don’t think he would be rocking the literal bowl cut or walking around bald at 5 years old

but like every victim of curly hair ever (i can relate) i bet he got something stuck in his hair 😭 whether that was comb, or gum, or something really random (once i genuinely got a live snake stuck in my hair lmfao)

"kyle, look!" you laugh, beckoning him over to look at the photo you found. when he sees it, he lets out a groan…

"god, my scalp still hurts from that…" he laughs softly, rubbing his head as he looks at the photo of himself at 8 or so years old. with a superman action figure stuck in his hair. how did that happen? honestly, who knows. his eyes are a little red, and his cheeks are shiny from tears, but it seems like he’d cheered up by the time the photo was taken, giggling at himself with a big smile on his face, as his mum desperately tried to untangle the mess he’d gotten himself into.

"how do you even do that?" you grin, feeling his hand resting on your back, his thumb gently rubbing up and down your spine. he shrugs, with a laugh.

"i really don’t know. had to embrace baldness for a bit, but i think i was more upset that superman got thrown in the bin. that was the real tragedy."

"aww… i’ll buy you a new one, if you like," you tease, just as his aunt returns with the tea.

this. took. YEARS. to write. 😭 and it’s miles long. thanks for reading!

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hiiii! Happy spooky season. I have a request for wade Wilson with choosing couples costumes!!!!! 👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃 I'd love to see what u come up with!!

The Spirit of Wade

You sat at your desk, buried beneath a mountain of work. Papers, emails, spreadsheets—all of it had piled up over the last few weeks, and it felt like you were drowning. On top of that, Blind Al’s Halloween party was just around the corner, and you didn’t even have the time to think about costumes.

Your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a text from Wade.

Wadeykins:Babycakes, what’re we wearin’ to Al’s spooky bash?

You groaned, rubbing your temples. The last thing you had time for was a costume shopping spree.

You:I’m swamped with work, Wade. Can you go to Spirit Halloween and grab us something? I trust you.

The moment you hit send, you instantly regretted it. Trusting Wade with anything remotely important usually ended in chaos. But before you could follow up with any kind of instruction, a new text popped up.

Wadeykins:OMW to Spirit. Gonna make us the hottest couple at that party, babe.

You stared at the message for a long moment, then let out a resigned sigh. There was no going back now. Wade was on a mission, and you had work to finish. You figured you'd cross the "what did Wade do?" bridge when you got home.

By the time you got back to your apartment later that evening, your body was exhausted, and your brain felt like it had turned into mush from the day’s grind. All you wanted to do was change into something comfortable and forget about everything for a while. But the moment you opened the door, your heart sank as you were greeted by a sight that was equal parts adorable and terrifying.

Spread out across the living room floor were not one, not two, but ten matching couple costumes. Wade was in the center of it all, beaming like a proud toddler who’d just shown his parents his first macaroni art masterpiece.

“Welcome home, pumpkin muffin!” Wade greeted, jumping up from where he’d been sitting. His eyes twinkled mischievously beneath his mask. “I know you’re busy and all, so I took the liberty of providing options.”

You blinked, staring at the sea of costumes that now dominated your living room. “Wade… what… what is this?”

He clapped his hands together, rubbing them like a mad scientist about to unveil his latest invention. “Okay, okay, so check it out. Blind Al’s party is a big deal, right? We gotta be the it couple there. So I went ahead and got us ten different matching costumes. I know, I know, I’m basically a relationship genius.”

You were torn between exasperation and amusement, but the exhaustion from work melted away as Wade’s enthusiasm radiated through the room. With a sigh, you dropped your bag by the door and walked over to inspect his selections.

“Alright, what do we have here, then?” you asked, folding your arms.

Wade excitedly began showcasing each option, holding them up like a game show host showing off prizes.

“Couple number one!” Wade started, holding up two banana suits. “Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwich!” He held up a jar of peanut butter with a wide grin. “Get it? You’ll be the sweet banana, and I’ll be the chunky peanut butter. It’s a classic combo, like us! Everyone loves PB and B.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Not bad, but let’s keep going.”

“Couple number two!” Wade swept his arm dramatically toward the next option. A pair of hospital gowns—complete with matching IV drips. “Doctor and Sexy Patient! Except... we’re both patients because it’s sexier that way. Plus, I already have practice wearing hospital gowns, thanks to the whole ‘mutated cancer mess.’”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “I think I’m gonna veto that one.”

“Fair, fair.” Wade shrugged. “Couple number three!” He held up a pair of inflatable T-rex costumes. “Dinosaur Power Couple! Imagine us stomping into the party in these bad boys. We’ll be unstoppable!”

“That sounds... sweaty.”

“Yeah, but think of the dramatic entrance!”

You chuckled. “Next.”

Wade dramatically threw his hands into the air and skipped to the next set. “Couple number four:Bob Ross and Happy Little Tree!” He waved around a giant paintbrush and an afro wig. “I’ll be Bob, you’ll be my masterpiece! I can paint you with compliments all night.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sweet, but no.”

Wade was undeterred. He spun toward another option, holding up matching black-and-white striped shirts. “Thieves in Love! We could go around the party, stealing snacks and hearts.”

You laughed. “Okay, that’s pretty cute.”

“Right? But wait, there’s more!” Wade dashed to the next set. “Ketchup and Mustard! Or Salt and Pepper! Or Burger and Fries!” Each matching pair was more ridiculous than the last, and each idea more absurd. You couldn’t stop laughing as Wade enthusiastically presented each costume, making over-the-top sales pitches for all of them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of couples costumes, Wade stopped in front of the last pair and turned to you with a grin that could only mean trouble.

“For the grand finale,” he said with a flourish, holding up a pair of cheesy superhero costumes that were definitely not part of any known franchise. “Super Wade and Super You! Capes included. We fight crime and bad party snacks.”

You rubbed your face, unable to stop smiling. “Wade… this is insane.”

He stepped closer, his eyes softening beneath the mask. “I know, but I wanted to give you choices. I know you’ve been working hard and you’ve been stressed. Figured I’d take some of the load off by going overboard with options. Plus, it gave me an excuse to flirt with you in a million different ways. Win-win.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Wade. Really.”

He cocked his head, a hint of shyness peeking through his bravado. “So… which one? Or should we go with my favorite?”

“And which one is that?”

Wade’s grin turned mischievous again. “I’m voting for Super Wade and Super You. ‘Cause let’s face it, babe, we’re already super together.”

You shook your head, but your smile never wavered. “Alright, fine. Super Wade and Super You it is.”

Wade let out an excited cheer, pumping his fist in the air before pulling you into a tight embrace. “We’re gonna be the sexiest, crime-fighting couple at that party, babe. Al won’t know what hit her.”

You laughed, leaning into him as he twirled you around. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible or impossibly charming?” Wade teased, dipping you dramatically.

“Maybe a bit of both.”

As you settled into the costume that night, you realized that, once again, Wade had managed to turn what could have been a stressful situation into something fun and ridiculous. And as you both headed out to Blind Al’s Halloween party, arms linked and capes trailing behind, you couldn’t help but think that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[littleadaline]

Once Upon A Time [P.G6]

Warnings: NOOOOONE [just fluff] Uncle!Gavi

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Took me 3 miserable days to figure out the ending but here she is! Enjoy 😽

———————————————————-

The house was awfully quiet. Putting your bag down in the entryway, you made your way to the living room. To your surprise, the tv was on, an unfinished game of FIFA left on pause. Your boyfriend’s slippers were next to the couch, a sign that he wasn’t far away.

“Gavi? I’m home!”, you called out but no response. Your heartbeat quickened, fearing the worst. Unsure, you made your way upstairs as silently as possibly. If Gavi felt like fooling around, you wanted to catch him in the act and save yourself the lame excuses. Entering your shared bedroom, you took notice of the mess that had replaced the neat room you had left in the morning. “What the fuck is going on?”, you said to yourself as an expression of confusion replace that of fury on your face. Perplexed by the events, but exhausted from your day, you began to undress, peeling off your work attire for a pair of Gavi’s sweater and a pair of worn-out sweatpants. A shuffle coming from the hallways made you stop halfway. 

“Gavi? Is that you?”. No sound was heard, aside from the buzzing of the AC, working overtime to keep up with the Barcelona weather. 

Having had enough of the mess, you grabbed your clothes and headed down to the laundry room, simply wanting to put away the eyesores that were the scattered clothes. Turning on the light in the laundry room, a small giggle came out of the hamper. Concerned, you grabbed the first item you could get your hands on, fearfully approaching the laundry basket. Peeling away the layers of clothes, your hand came in a contact with something soft… hair? 

“Joder! What the fuck!”, you yelled out in shock. As quickly as your hand retracted, the small figure of a child jumped out. The brunette-haired child stared at you; a grin as wide as the world highlighting her missing front tooth. “Beatriz! ¿Qué haces aquí?”, you asked the toddler, your heartbeat slowly getting back to normal. 

“Tia Y/N! You’re home! Uncle Gavi and I are playing hide and seek…. Shhh.”, she said, placing her chubby finger on your lips in an attempt to shut you up. 

“¿Beatriz? Where are you?” a man’s worried voice rang through the house. Soon enough, Gavi was running down the stairs to the laundry room, where he found the toddler in your arms. 

“Playing hide and seek, huh?”, you teased your boyfriend. 

“I… I euh, can explain!” He said, embarrassingly rubbing his head. 

“It’s because tío Gavi kept beating me at FIFA. He’s a bully.” Beatriz ratted out your boyfriend. 

“Alright missy, enough mischief for today. How about a quick nap before supper?” Gavi didn’t wait for Beatriz to answer, swiftly whisking her away upstairs for her afternoon nap. After untying her pigtails for maximum comfort while she slept, he quickly kissed her on the forehead before closing the door of your shared bedroom. Jogging back downstairs, he found you cleaning the remnants of their afternoon. 

“How was work?” He said kissing your temple. 

“Not bad! We met our new project leader today. She seems very… energetic, to say the least,” you said, sighing. “She’s invited the team for an introductory supper, next week or so. Please be my plus one! You know how I feel about work dinners.” You whined into his arms. Gavi chuckled. 

“Vale princesa, I will be your plus one. By the way, sorry I didn’t tell you that Beatriz was staying over. Aurora and Javi had a work emergency out of town, and Bee was already at daycare. I picked her up and brought her here.” Gavi said, snaking his arms around your waist and planting a kiss on your neck. 

With Beatriz napping, you and Gavi got started on supper. Pulling the final touches of the dish, you heard Gavi’s footsteps followed by the tiny patters of Beatriz. 

“Look who’s up! How did you sleep, princess?” You asked the toddler while placing her in her highchair. 

“Muy bien!” Her face still bared pillow marks, an indication of excellent sleep. Her hair, while still short, was fusing in any and all directions, making it resemble the mane of a lion. Pushing away the brown locks, you handed her her plate. 

“Blow on the food, Bee. Like this.” You showed the toddler before handing her the spoon. 

Supper went down smoothly, with the light chatter of Beatriz filling the room. Chuckling, you got off your chair to pick up the leftover dishes. 

“Let me.” Gavi stopped you, taking away the plates from you. “Bee needs help brushing her teeth. Can you please help her out? Aurora and Javi won’t make it for tonight. Traffic is too intense, so she’s sleeping here. “I’ll make you a cup of tea once you’re done.” He said, quickly kissing your lips. 

“Come on Beatriz, let’s go brush our teeth!” You grabbed your niece by her hand, slowly leading her upstairs. Kneeling down in front of the bathroom cabinet, you pulled out the basked you kept in the case Beatriz slept over. Shampoo, hairbrush, hair ties, toothbrush-. Content, you grabbed her Spider Man toothbrush before handing it to her. 

Downstairs, Gavi had finished cleaning up the dinner table, slowly putting away the now clean dishes. The cup of tea he had promised you was cooling off on the coffee table. 

Back in the bathroom, Beatriz engaged in chatter, something the entire family was used to. After she was done, you led her to the guest bedroom, where you handed her some pj’s you had kept from her last visit. Admiring Olaf on her robe, Beatriz rubbed her eyes, defeated by her need to sleep. 

“Come on Bee, we have time for a bedtime story. Why one would you like me to read?” You said shuffling through her books. 

“How did you and tío Gavi meet?” 

Taken aback, you put down the books on the nightstand and snuggled in. 

“Well, my oh my, let’s see if I remember correctly….” You giggled. “Vale, it was 5 years ago, we were both 19.” 

“This many?” Beatriz interrupted, showing you the numbers with her fingers. 

“Correct, Bee! Where was I? So, 5 years ago, I met your uncle through your mamá. We had a similar class during university, and one day, my bus was late. We had a presentation that morning, and your mom was so so stressed. Obviously, she didn’t take it well when told her I was gonna be late. So, she sent your tío to pick me up-“ 

“And it was love at first sight,” a man’s voice interrupted your tale. Gavi joined you on the bed, his arms around your shoulders. 

“No, it wasn’t,” you giggled. “We didn’t like each other at first, your uncle was a bit cold.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say cold, per say… more like, intimidated.” He reiterated. 

“Anyways, I forgot my phone in his car and Aurora gave him my address. He knocked while I was making dinner, and I ended up inviting him in. During dinner, a thunderstorm came over the city, and he spent the night at my place. We watched movies, had a mini party with music and my mini projector. Long story short, he asked me out a few weeks later after hanging out together during all our possible free time.” 

“Been in love with my nena since day one”, Gavi said, kissing you tenderly. 

“Ewwww” 

“Vale princesa, you’ve got daycare tomorrow and I’m driving you on my way to practice. So, it’s lights out and away we go.” Gavi said, kissing his niece’s head, followed by you. “Buenas noches princesa”. 

“Buenas noches.” Beatriz answered sleepily. 

[severalforraelee]

The Girls Part 11: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Photo credit to si.com

Word count: 3,091

Written by raelee / Posted July 22

Masterlist

Formula 1 Masterlist

The Girls Masterlist

“Good job, Ada,” I compliment as she kicks the ball across the room, we watch as it bounces against the kitchen cabinet. “Nice job, Lucy.”

The blonde girl is the one to kick the ball this time, but it only rolls a few feet away. She huffs, tiny arms crossed over her chest as tears begin to fill her eyes.

“Okay, come here. Can you feel? What emotions can you feel?” I open my arms and she collapses into them, tiny sobs shaking her body as I rub her back comfortingly. “I thought I had at least two months until the terrible twos hit.”

A knock sounds at the door and I rise to my feet, Lucy still clutched in my arms.

“No,” Ada shouts, arms winding around my leg as she drops to her bottom.

“Really? How am I supposed to get to the door, you guys?” I whine. Ada giggles and Lucy sniffles.

I make it to the door in twice the amount of time that it would normally take, swinging it open to reveal Charles on the other side.

“Dada,” Ada hollers, hopping up to reach her hands up towards him.

He grins at her, pulling her up and into his arms as Lucy raises her head at her sister’s words, face lighting up at the sight of the familiar man. She reaches out for him as well and he pulls her into the crook of his other arm, stepping over the threshold into the apartment as I close the door behind him.

“You should really just give me a key to your apartment at this point,” Charles tells me, lightly throwing the two girls on the couch and sending them into a fit of giggles.

“What, you want a drawer, too?” I motion towards his backpack.

“Well, if you’re offering.”

I roll my eyes, throwing a few stray toys into the toy box.

“Why the red eyes, Lucy?” He traces the toddler’s puffy eyes with a frown.

“A little sisterly jealousy,” I explain. After glancing at the clock I add, “And tiredness.”

“Did you stay up after your bedtime just to see me?” Charles questions enthusiastically, tickling the two girls' bellies. They’re full of laughter tonight, because they think that was the funniest thing. “I think it’s time for bed now, then.”

“No,” Ada whines.

“You’re already up past your bedtime-”Lucy erupts into another set of tears, interrupting her dad.

He pauses, glancing at me to see my reaction. I raise my eyebrows at him. He knows what the action says.

If you’re the one responsible for having them stay up even later than they already are, you’re dealing with the bedtime routine and cranky tantrums tomorrow.

But, as always, he cracks.

“Okay, fine, one episode of Bluey wouldn’t hurt.”

~

“One episode of Bluey won’t hurt,” I mock Charles’ words.

He doesn’t respond, reaching forward to place the giraffe pacifier back inside Lucy’s mouth and the penguin pacifier back inside Ada’s mouth to soothe their cries. I can still see him roll his eyes out of the corner of my eye.

I even warned him this morning that we should have a lowkey day because of how late he let them stay up, but once I returned home from class he announced that he placed a reservation at a nearby ball pit so the girls could have a fun activity to do.

Charles checks us in for our reservation once we arrive, and as soon as we place Ada and Lucy in the ball pit, it’s like the tantrums that occurred not even an hour ago never occurred at all.

“Are you going to answer that?” Charles questions after my smart watch buzzes for the third time in a row, altering me to a text.

I already know that it’s Lando. We had that conversation last week in hopes of repairing our relationship, but it’s still a bit tense. I guess it hurts more than I care to admit that my family just cast me aside once I got pregnant, and that Lando remained oblivious to it all this entire time.

Sure, I didn’t tell him at the time, but I think it was noticeable by me missing from photos that they sent of weekly family dinners or texts in the group chat. It’s just difficult to move past the resurgence of bad memories.

“No,” I shake my head, watching as Lucy throws a red ball a foot away from her with a wide grin.

Now it’s Charles' watch that buzzes.

“Are you going to answer that?” I repeat his question.

“No,” he answers. “I want to enjoy this time with my three girls.”

I roll my eyes at his response, but look down to hide my blush.

Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly because of how late they stayed up, the girls are tired out and fall asleep as soon as we put them in their stroller to head back to my apartment.

“Charles,” I pause on the sidewalk, watching as he pushes the stroller towards a looming apartment building. “What are you doing?”

“I have a friend that lives here,” he answers.

“But the girls are sleeping, we need to get them home before they wake up,” I remind him. They’re not the best sleepers in their stroller.

“It won’t take long, I promise,” he responds. I reluctantly follow him. It’s not like I have much choice, he does have our kids with him.

He smiles at the doorhop as we pass him, then the receptionist behind the front desk as we make our way towards the elevator. Of course he has a friend that lives in this building- it has amenities like a doorhop, receptionist, gym, spa, and pool by the signs plastered in the elevator, along with elegant chandeliers and marble floors.

To put it bluntly, it’s in the rich part of town, the area that Charles is familiar and comfortable with.

I, on the other hand, am completely uncomfortable by this. Although I was raised in a wealthy family, we were never taught to flaunt our wealth in such a public manner, like in the things that we own. We lived in a nice house in rural England and the thing that probably showed our money the most was the fact that Lando was karting.

Besides, family money is something that I haven’t experienced for years. Even before becoming pregnant with the girls and distancing myself from my family, I rarely let my family pay for my things. Of course, I let Lando pay for my tickets to the grand prixs, but that was mainly because I was working for him. And being away from Formula 1 for so many years, I sometimes forget how these guys are so used to a luxurious lifestyle.

The elevator doors open on one of the top floors and he pushes the stroller out and down the hall with confidence. I follow after him closely, not wanting to get caught in the hallway by anyone who might see us.

“Your friend gave you his key?” I question, confused as he presses the fob to the lock.

“Yeah,” he grins back at me, pushing the door open.

He steps inside the apartment and I follow close behind. We enter a small entryway, intricate detailing on the doorway welcoming us into a larger space. There’s an area straight ahead with big glass windows and doors that lead to a balcony, clearly meant for a living area. Between that area and the entryway is an empty space, for what I assume is a dining table. Off to the left is a decent sized kitchen with white cabinets and white marble countertops, a small island in front of stainless steel appliances.

“Did your friend just move in?” I ask, taking note of the obvious lack of furniture.

“Yeah. Why don’t you take a look around?”

“Take a look around your friend’s new apartment?” I raise my eyebrows at him skeptically.

“Yeah,” he shrugs.

I give him another look, trying to understand where this is coming from. Why would I want to look around his friend’s apartment? Of course I want to- it’s always fascinating to see how the other half lives, but why would Charles encourage me to?

I don’t argue with him on it, though, not wanting to start another fight.

I start on the right side of the apartment, finding a nice sized bedroom, full bathroom, and laundry room. Then I head to the left side of the apartment, finding two more nice sized bedrooms and another bathroom.

“It’s nice,” I comment once I rejoin Charles and the girls, looking around the main space of the apartment once again.

“Yeah, you think so?”

“Could do with more color,” I suggest.

“Well, you can add the color.”

I turn back to him in confusion, resting one hand on the handle of the stroller casually. “What do you mean?”

“You’re my friend!”

I pause, staring at him. “What?”

He stutters. “I mean, I bought this flat for you.”

My mouth gapes open a bit in surprise as I gaze at him. “Why did you do that?”

“Your apartment now is so small, and it’s not on the safe side of town,” he explains.

“I like it being so small,” I defend, “It makes it easier to hear and see Ada and Lucy, and I can get to them quickly. And, I don’t know why you and Lando keep saying that, I feel safe where I live.”

“There was just a murder in your neighborhood last week!”

“On the other side of the neighborhood!”

“You’re going to put your ego over the safety of you and our daughters?”

I stare at him in shock. “I’m putting our daughters’ well-being in front of my ego, if anything. Don’t you think I would love to stay in this apartment and show it off?”

Charles can’t help but crack a grin, knowing that’s incredibly unlike me.

“The girls love saying hello to our neighbors every day, they love walking down the street to the park, hell, they love sharing a room, Charles,” I motion to the three bedroom doors.

“And they can share a room here,” he responds.

“Then what is the third- oh.” I stare at him in confusion until my face blanks.

“Why ‘oh?’” He questions.

“Charles, we just talked about this,” I sigh, crossing my arms over my chest before looking off to the side.

“Talked about what?”

“We’re not having another baby.”

It’s quiet- which is understandable, I’m sure it’s hard for him to really get it through his head that I don’t want another baby right now- and it’s not just with him, it’s with anyone. Currently, the girls are more than enough for me to handle.

Although, I do think it’s weird that he is still pushing for another baby since that pregnancy scare caused an argument and more tension between us.

It remains quiet. Too quiet.

I look back over at him, expecting a shattered expression, just to see a smug smirk on his face. My annoyed expression deflates at the look on his face but I quickly put it back on, not wanting him to think he has the upperhand in this scenario.

I feel like I’m missing something.

“What?” I ask him.

“The third bedroom isn’t so that the girls can have separate rooms, or so that we can have another baby. The third bedroom is so that we can all live together. That way we can have separate rooms, so I can be with the girls all of the time while in London and have somewhere to keep my stuff,” he explains.

I feel all the blood in my face drain at his explanation, and embarrassment creeps throughout my body.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows at me suggestively.

I stare out the wall of windows at the bustling London street below, avoiding eye contact with Charles while feeling his gaze on the side of my face. I don’t respond, just wanting to get out of this humiliating situation.

“You want another baby?”

“No,” I whip my head towards him, narrowing my eyes. “You want another baby.”

“You’re the one who just brought it up,” he responds defensively.

“Yeah, because you just bought an apartment with three bedrooms after we had a pregnancy scare,” I roll my eyes.

“You know I’d have another baby whenever you’re ready,” he offers.

I don’t respond, instead rolling the stroller to the front door of the apartment.

“So I contacted a moving company and they can move you in as early as next week, they told me since you have such a small amount of stuff we can be moved in within a day and we can shop for the rest of the furniture together,” he says, following after me.

My feet stop in the hallway, causing Charles to almost run into my back. I turn around slowly to face him.

“What?”

“What about that did you not understand?” He wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion.

“What about what I said did you not understand?”

“Oh, I understood you alright,” he smirks at me.

I take a deep breath, fighting back the eyeroll. “I’m not moving into this apartment, Charles.”

“Why not?”

“Do we need to go through this again?” I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Clearly we do.”

“The girls are happy where they are now,” I assert.

“The girls are not even two years old, they don’t even know where they are half of the time.

“Charles,” I stare at him in disbelief.

“What?”

“You’re not even with them half of the time, how would you know that?”

I know that it’s a low blow, but my blood is boiling. I understand that he’s not here because of his job, one that he’s really passionate about, but it feels like when Charles wants something, he does whatever he wants to make it possible.

It used to be a character trait that I really admired about him. I loved watching him overtake on the track and advocate for certain strategies with his team, admiring all of the passion that he puts into everything he does.

But when you have kids, that personality trait has to be thrown out the window.

It’s no longer about what you want and what you think is best- it’s what’s best for the kids. And I know my kids, and although someday I’d like to move into a bigger place, while I’m in school and working and the girls are still young, it’s best to stay where we are.

“I could be with them more if we moved into this apartment,” he waves his arm, as if to make his point.

I can’t hide my eyeroll this time, turning around to push the stroller back to the elevator.

“No response?” Smugness sneaks into his tone.

“It’s not even worth a response,” I tell him, pressing the button to go down. “Tell your realtor that you changed your mind.”

“After hiding the existence of my daughters for almost two years, you can’t do this one thing for me?”

My feet whip me around to face him before I can control my movements, and I begin to speak before I can stop myself. “Are you serious?”

His jaw drops open, as if he can’t believe he said those words himself.

“We had this whole conversation before, Charles, and I thought we figured out how to get over it. And, you’re not going to try to guilt me into doing something that I don’t think is the best option for our daughters, that’s not how cooperating between us is going to work,” I protest. “I will put our daughters' well-being in front of your emotions, and my own, time and time again because that’s what you do as a parent. And I’ll do everything that I can to get along with you because of them as well, as difficult as that may be.”

I step inside the elevator, pulling the stroller with me. Charles just stands in the hallway, staring back at me with a blank expression.

“Are you coming? I need to press the button.”

~

Ada and Lucy begin to squeal at the familiar sight of Ms. Berry, the elderly neighbor who always gives them lollipops whenever she sees them.

“Oh, you sweet darlings, it’s been too long since I last saw you,” the woman coos, pulling a strawberry flavored lollipop and cotton candy flavored lollipop out of her purse. Like clockwork, Ada reaches for the strawberry one and Lucy reaches for the cotton candy one.

“And who is this young man?” Ms. Berry smiles at Charles who stands holding Lucy’s hand.

“This is Charles, the girls’ dad,” I inform her.

“I hope that means that I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.”

“Say thank you to Ms. Berry,” I instruct the girls, who say the words around a mouthful of sucker.

“Anytime, girls. You’re the highlight of my week.” “Who was that woman that we ran into in the hallway earlier?” Charles asks later at dinner.

“Oh, Ms. Berry?” I reach over to wipe the ketchup off of Ada’s face. “She lives a couple doors down. She loves to see Ada and Lucy.”

“I’ve just never seen her before.”

“It’s because you’re usually gone on the weekend when she returns from her daughter’s house in the country. She stays there during the week to take care of her grandchildren, that’s why she loves the girls so much.”

Charles is quiet after that.

I know that he’s thinking about the apartment that he bought for us to share without my permission. It’s been a couple of days since we visited and fought about it. From the way his gaze lingers on me and flits around the apartment, I can tell that he wants to apologize for making such a rash decision without me and expecting me to go along with it, then guilting me when I refused.

But for some reason, he refuses to apologize.

Whether it’s pride, still partially believing that he’s correct, or something else, I don’t know.

All I know is that I’m sick of fighting with him.

Despite the fact that we fight about literally everything, I’m ready to move on and get along with him for the sake of our daughters. But it seems like everytime we take a step forward, we take two steps back.

And I’m just wondering how much of this back and forth we can both take.

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[lifeofpriya]

from the youre blushing list ““You’re blushing.” “So are you.”” For jannik weekend. pls! Ur writing is so good and im so excited for a jan weekend bc i am lacking in content 😭

i had an itch to write a cute fic that involved a bookstore and i gave in 😩 ughhh, when can this happen to me too 😭

A Fumbling Confession

wc: 3.4k

You're standing in line at the local coffee shop, the aroma of freshly ground beans wrapping around you like a warm blanket. The barista calls out a name you don't recognize. You check your watch. Five minutes until your shift starts at the nearby bookstore. You're about to leave when the door swings open, letting in a gust of cold air and a familiar figure—Jannik Sinner.

Jannik is a regular, always ordering the same drink: a double shot of espresso with a splash of almond milk. His curly ginger hair is tucked under a blue beanie, and he's wearing a vintage sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed up to reveal lean but muscular forearms.

You feel a jolt of excitement and nerves in your stomach. You've had a crush on him for months, but the opportunity to talk beyond exchanging pleasantries has never arisen. You consider saying hello, but the words stick to the roof of your mouth like sugar to a toddler's fingers.

As Jannik approaches the counter, his eyes scan the room, landing on you for a brief moment. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, a gesture so subtle it's almost imperceptible. Is it possible he recognizes you? The thought sends a wave of heat up your neck. You quickly look down, pretending to rummage through your bag for something to avoid eye contact, your heart hammering against your ribs.

The barista calls out your order, snapping you out of your trance. You step forward, reaching for your wallet, when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turn to find Jannik holding out a steaming cup of coffee. "I got this," he says, his voice deep and comforting, the Italian accent rolling off his tongue like a melody.

Surprise lights up your eyes as you take the cup from him. "Thank you," you murmur, feeling the warmth of the ceramic mug seep into your palms. He nods, his smile widening. "It's the least I could do. You always seem to be in a rush when I come in here."

The barista glances between you both, a knowing look in their eyes. "You two are adorable," they say, winking before turning to prepare Jannik's drink.

You blush furiously, heat prickling across your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I just… I've never had anyone buy me anything before," you admit, taking a tentative sip of your preferred hot beverage.

Jannik chuckles, the sound resonating through the small space. "Well, I figured you could use a little pick-me-up before work." He leans against the counter, his gaze lingering on you. "So, what do you do?"

You swallow the lump in your throat. "I work at the bookstore down the street. I've seen you there a few times," you reply, hoping he doesn't notice the tremor in your voice.

Jannik's eyes widen slightly. "Really? I guess I should pay more attention to the people around me." He takes a sip of his espresso, the sound of the liquid hitting the porcelain cup echoing in the otherwise quiet shop. "I usually just get lost in the sports section."

The conversation flows naturally from there, a tapestry of shared interests and laughter. You learn that Jannik's love for books is just as intense as his passion for tennis. He talks about his favorite authors and the way specific stories have inspired him on and off the court. You share your favorite genres and the feeling of escaping into a good book after a long day.

As you both sip your drinks, you notice the time slipping away. The nerves in your stomach have transformed into a comforting buzz of excitement. You glance at the clock, realizing you're about to be late for your shift. "Thank you so much for the drink, but I really need to go," you say, the regret clear in your tone.

Jannik nods, his expression understanding. "No problem. Maybe we can do this again sometime?" His question hangs in the air, hopeful.

You feel your heart skip a beat. "Yeah, I'd like that," you reply, trying to sound casual despite the rush of emotions. He nods again, and you take a deep breath, mustering the courage to ask. "Do you want to come by the bookstore later? Maybe we can talk more?"

Jannik's smile reaches his eyes. "I'd love to," he says. "How about after my training session?" He glances at the clock behind the counter. "That's in a few hours. Does that work for you?"

You nod, trying to keep your cool. "Yeah, that's perfect."

The barista sets Jannik's drink on the counter, and he takes it with a grateful nod. "See you later," he says, and with a wave, he's out the door, leaving you with a coffee and a racing heart.

You down the rest of your drink, the warmth of the drink jolting you into action. You arrive at the bookstore just in time, the bell chiming as you enter. Your manager, Mrs. Higgins, gives you a knowing look. She's seen you like this before—flustered and a bit love-struck. She winks at you before turning her attention to a customer.

The hours tick by as you organize the shelves, your thoughts a whirlwind of anticipation. The bookstore is a second home to you, filled with the quiet whispers of pages turning and the occasional chime of the door. But today, it feels like a stage, every book a silent audience to the drama of your unspoken love.

As the clock approaches the time Jannik said he'd come by, you straighten your shirt, smoothing out any wrinkles. You pretend to be busy, but you can't help glancing at the door every few minutes. The bell jingles, and your heart skips a beat. But it's just a regular customer looking for the latest mystery novel.

Finally, the moment arrives. The door swings open, and there he is, his ginger curls peeking out from under the same blue beanie, his sweatshirt replaced with a fitted polo shirt that accentuates his athletic build. He looks around, and when his eyes meet yours, they light up with the same warmth as earlier. You feel a smile spread across your face, unbidden.

"Hey," Jannik says, approaching the counter. His cheeks are flushed from the cold outside, and his hands are slightly trembling from the chill. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

You shake your head, the books you were pretending to organize momentarily forgotten. "No, not at all. What can I help you with?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jannik steps closer, his gaze dropping to the name tag pinned to your shirt. "Just looking for some company," he says, a hint of mischief in his voice. "But I do need a book recommendation. Something to read on my off days, when I'm not breaking a sweat on the court."

You feel your cheeks warm at his words, and you try to play it cool. "Ah, I've got just the thing." You lead him through the aisles, discussing different authors and their works as you go. His eyes light up with every new title you suggest, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride in sharing your literary world with him.

As you reach the back of the store, you notice Mrs. Higgins watching you from the corner, a knowing smile on her face. She's always had a knack for spotting budding romances. You roll your eyes playfully and turn your attention back to Jannik, who's now engrossed in a novel you've been meaning to read.

"What's this one about?" he asks, holding up a book with a mysterious cover.

You lean over the counter, your hands resting on the cool surface. "It's a psychological thriller," you explain, "about a woman who discovers her entire life is a lie."

Jannik nods thoughtfully, his thumb tracing the spine of the book. "Sounds intense." He looks up, his eyes meeting yours. "But I like a good challenge."

You smile, feeling your heart race as you hand him the book. "I think you'll love it," you say, your voice slightly breathless. You can't help but wonder if he's referring to the book or the connection between you.

Jannik takes the book, his fingertips brushing against yours for a brief moment, sending an electric current up your arm. "Thank you," he says, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'll have to read it and let you know what I think."

The tension in the air is palpable, and you're acutely aware of every inch that separates you. You both stand there, unsure of what to say next, when a loud thud echoes through the store. You jump, startled, and Jannik laughs. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he says, holding up the book that slipped from his grasp.

You look down to see the book lying open on the floor, pages fluttering as if trying to tell a secret. You both lean down to pick it up, your hands colliding in a clumsy dance. You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you, a sound you haven't heard in a while.

As you stand, the book still between your fingers, your eyes meet Jannik's. For a moment, the world seems to hold its breath.

"You're blushing." Jannik's voice is soft, teasing. You can feel the heat in your cheeks, and you know you're blushing harder than ever before. You look down, avoiding his gaze, your eyes catching the title of the book you're both holding.

"So are you." You reply, trying to sound nonchalant as you realize the truth in his words. You look up to find him studying you, his gaze intense. The silence stretches out between you, filled with the unspoken words you both want to say.

"I have to admit," Jannik says, his voice barely above a whisper, "I've had a bit of a crush on you for a while." The confession sends a rush of excitement through you, like a wildfire spreading from your chest to your fingertips. You look up at him, your eyes searching for any sign of insincerity. But all you find is honesty and vulnerability.

You open your mouth to respond, but the words get stuck in your throat. Instead, you just nod, unable to form coherent sentences. The book, now forgotten, lies between your palms, a silent witness to the moment unfolding.

Jannik's hand covers yours, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin. "I know this is probably a bad time and place, but I couldn't hold it in anymore," he says, his voice earnest. "I see the way you look at me, and I just had to tell you."

You nod again, your throat tight with a mix of emotions. "I…I've had a crush on you too," you finally manage to say. The words hang in the air, weightless yet heavy with meaning. Jannik's smile widens, and you feel your heart soar.

He gently takes the book from your grasp and sets it aside. "I've been hoping you felt the same way," he admits, his eyes searching yours. You can see the hope in them, the anticipation. "Every time I come into this store, I think about talking to you, getting to know you better."

You bite your bottom lip, trying to contain the smile threatening to split your face in two. "Really?"

Jannik nods, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. "Really."

The silence between you is now filled with the sweet anticipation of confessions long held back. You take a deep breath, feeling as though you're about to dive into the deep end of a pool. "Well, now that we've got that out of the way," you begin, "what do we do now?"

Jannik's smile turns into a grin. "How about dinner?" he suggests, his thumb still lightly caressing your hand. "I know a great place nearby that serves the best lasagna you've ever had."

The idea of dinner with Jannik sends a thrill through your body. "I'd love that," you say, trying to keep the excitement from overwhelming you.

He squeezes your hand gently, his eyes filled with relief and excitement. "Great," he says, the warmth of his palm sending shivers up your spine. "How about tomorrow night?"

You nod eagerly, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. "Tomorrow night is perfect," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jannik's grip on your hand tightens slightly. "It's a date, then," he says, his eyes sparkling. "I'll pick you up after your shift. Does that work for you?"

You nod, your stomach flipping at the thought of an actual date with the person you've been secretly pining for. "Yes, that's perfect." The rest of the afternoon at the bookstore feels like it's moving in slow motion as you both try to contain your excitement. The customers come and go, but your eyes keep straying back to Jannik, who's lost in a book a few aisles over, occasionally glancing up to catch your gaze.

Mrs. Higgins clears her throat, breaking the spell. "You know, you two could just go on your date now if you want," she says with a knowing smile. "I can manage the store for the last hour."

You glance at the clock. It's already closing time. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. You've been so lost in your conversation with Jannik that you didn't even notice. "Really?" you ask, hopeful.

Mrs. Higgins nods, her eyes twinkling. "Go on. Have fun. I'll handle the closing."

Jannik looks up from his book, his expression a mix of surprise and delight. "Are you sure?" he asks, his gaze flicking between you and Mrs. Higgins.

"Yes, go," she insists, waving you off with a laugh. "You've earned it, and I'd love to see that smile on your face more often."

You exchange a look with Jannik, and in that moment, the unspoken tension between you snaps like a tightly drawn bow. Without another word, you both grab your coats and step out into the crisp evening air, the streetlights casting a warm glow on the cobblestone street.

Walking side by side, you feel a buzz of excitement that's been missing for so long. You can't help but steal glances at him, his profile sharp and defined in the fading light. You've imagined this moment countless times, but the reality is so much more than you ever dared to hope for.

Jannik notices your gaze and looks over at you, his cheeks flushing slightly. "What is it?" he asks, a smile playing on his lips.

You look away, feeling your own cheeks warm. "Nothing," you reply, a little too quickly. "I just… I'm happy, I guess."

Jannik laughs, a sound that sends your heart into a delightful flutter. "Me too," he says, his eyes shining. "I've been thinking about asking you out for ages, but I was afraid you wouldn't feel the same way."

You look up at him, feeling a rush of affection. "I've had the same fear," you admit. "But I'm so glad you did."

Jannik slides his hand into yours, and the simple gesture feels like the most natural thing in the world. Your heart skips a beat as your fingers interlock, his hand warm and strong. The cool evening air is a stark contrast to the warmth that spreads through you.

You walk down the cobblestone street, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the ancient buildings that line the way. The town is quiet, almost as if it's holding its breath, giving you two the space to share this moment in peace. You feel a giddiness bubbling up inside you, a feeling you thought was reserved for characters in the romance novels you secretly devour.

As you turn the corner, Jannik points out a small Italian restaurant, its windows steaming with the scent of garlic and tomato sauce. "This is the place," he says, his voice filled with excitement. The anticipation of the evening ahead has made you both hungry, and the thought of sharing a meal with him fills you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the food.

Inside, the restaurant is cozy, the walls adorned with family photos and vintage tennis memorabilia. The owner, a plump man with a thick mustache, greets Jannik like an old friend. "Jannik! Bene, bene!" he exclaims, enveloping him in a bear hug.

You stand aside, watching the interaction with a smile, feeling a swell of affection for this place that clearly holds a special place in Jannik's heart. The owner releases him and turns to you, his eyes twinkling. "And who is this lucky person you've brought with you?" he asks, his Italian accent thick and welcoming.

Jannik slides his hand around your waist, pulling you closer. "This is…" He pauses, looking at you for permission to reveal your relationship status. You nod, your cheeks still flushed from the confession at the bookstore. "This is my date," he says, pride and happiness resonating in his voice.

The owner's eyes widen in surprise before a broad smile stretches across his face. "Ah, a date!" He winks at you. "I'll give you the best table in the house." He leads you to a cozy corner booth, the candlelight flickering across the red-and-white checkered tablecloth. You sit down, your hands shaking slightly as you try to process the reality of what's happening.

The menu is a delightful assault on your senses, filled with dishes that sound like poetry and smell like home. You look up to find Jannik watching you, his gaze warm and affectionate. "I know it's a lot to choose from, but I promise, everything here is amazing," he says, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand.

You can't help but feel self-conscious under his scrutiny. "How do you decide?" you ask, your voice a little too high.

Jannik chuckles, the sound rich and deep. "It's easy," he says, leaning in closer. "You just have to trust your gut." He pauses, his eyes searching yours.

Your stomach flips, and you nod, trying to focus on the menu instead of the heat of his hand on yours. You decide on the lasagna, unable to resist the allure of the homemade pasta and the promise of a secret family recipe. Jannik orders the same, and the owner nods approvingly before disappearing into the kitchen.

The restaurant is a whirlwind of activity around you, but you're in a bubble; the only things that matter are the flicker of the candle between you and the sound of Jannik's voice. You talk about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing as easily as the wine he ordered. You learn about his love for the mountains, where he grew up, and how he finds peace there when the world of professional tennis gets too hectic.

As the plates of lasagna are set before you, you realize how much you've missed this: the simple act of sharing a meal with someone who gets you, who makes you feel seen. You take a bite, the cheese stretching like a warm embrace, the sauce a symphony of flavors that dance on your tongue. "This is incredible," you murmur, your eyes meeting Jannik's.

He smiles, pleased. "It's his nonna's recipe," he says, nodding to the owner. "A family secret."

You laugh, the sound light and airy. "It's definitely worth keeping," you say, taking another bite. The conversation ebbs and flows, the silence between you now a comfortable one filled with the promise of more to come.

As you both clean your plates, Jannik reaches across the table, taking your hand again. "There's something I need to tell you," he says, his voice serious. You look up, your heart racing. "I've never felt this way about someone before. It's like…like I've been playing on easy mode, and now the game has changed."

You swallow the last bite, the warmth of the lasagna forgotten. "What do you mean?"

Jannik takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I mean, you're…you're different. You make me feel things I've never felt before, and it's a bit overwhelming." He squeezes your hand gently. "But in the best way possible."

You smile, feeling your cheeks warm. "I know what you mean," you admit. "It's like I've been reading the same book over and over, and suddenly there's this new one that's got me hooked, you know?"

Jannik's eyes light up, understanding dawning on his face. "Exactly," he says, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "It's like finding a new author whose words just…resonate."

You nod, feeling a thrill run through you at his metaphor. "Yeah, like their words are just for you."

Jannik's smile turns into a grin. "Exactly." He takes a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving yours. "So, what do you say we write our own story together?"

[yourtouchismidas]

I’m absolutely obsessed with all of the Gigi blurbs you’re spoiling us 😩 would you wanna write anymore about Matty and ruins girl? How even after all the shitty stuff, they’re still in love? I’ll take any fluff and or smut you wish to gift us 😍

I feel like the last blurb I posted was quite fluffy so let's go smutty because why the hell not. So.

CW: Smut

You're on tour. Matty is about to go on stage, ten minutes from now, and he is pacing, nervous. He's wearing a white scoop neck top and you can see the skin underneath it, ink of tattoos poking out, already starting to glisten with sweat. It's been a while, hard to touch each other, let alone anything else, when you're on a tour bus, and running around after a toddler. You're kneeling on the floor next to Gigi, while Ross is pretending to drink tea that Gigi has pretended to pour out a plastic cup, and wearing a princess crown, as well as his ear piece and his shirt for the show.

You're supposed to be watching your daughter, but you're watching him. Matty. You're watching the V of his chest while he moves, the curve of his arms under his t shirt, the twitch of his chiselled jaw as he runs something through his mind. His mind. You want to cut it open sometimes, see the inner parts of it, the glitter, the darkness, the words, the philosophies. You want him to speak honeyed dark words into your lips, you want him to sing about you and only you, desperate for you, crying out for you over the mic with gravel in his voice, you want his lips on your neck, his sweat on your chest... you want him, right now, this second. Your chest aches with it. Your skin burns.

"Ross can you watch Gigi for a few minutes," you say quickly, getting up before he even says yes. Which he does and you know he would. You walk over to the father of your child. Your man. Yours. He's got his back to you and he's mumbling and you stand close to him, just close enough that he can feel your warmth, your energy, the buzzing of you, and you can feel his.

"Can I talk to you for a second, Matty?" You say.

You snap him out of whatever thought he is thinking. He sees you. Properly for the first time in a while. Distracted. He looks at your lips which are pouted and stained red.

"Sure," he says, smiling. You turn on your heel and go into his dressing room. He follows.

"I'm about to go on, are you okay? Am I in trouble?" He says.

"Close the door," you say. He does. He's quiet. Looking at you. Eyes bright. Curls soft.

You look at him dead in the eyes, and say, sultry, "You are in trouble. Yes."

Matty breathes in hard, breath hitching. Swallows. He knows what's going on. What you want. What, with those few simple words, he now needs, more than anything, or he won't be able to continue, won't be able to perform, won't be able to think about anything else.

"Fuck," he breathes out.

You push him gently against the door, hand on his chest and stare up at him.

"Fuck," he says again, but it's a moan this time, and he leans his head back against the door, eyes closed. You can feel him getting hard already. And you've barely even touched him yet.

"You want it then?" you ask. He moves forward to touch you. To please himself. To take control.

"No no," you say, pushing him back again. "You want it then?"

He whimpers. Nods. Eyes still closed. He's already thrusting his hips, tiny movements, involuntary, trying to get some sort of relief from the desire you have already caused him. You hold him back, pressing a kiss on his neck, then another, then another. Chastely. You run one hand across his dick, rock hard now, hand barely there, just a whisper of a touch. His chest caves into itself as he feels it.

He doesn't try to move. He doesn't try to touch you. He knows you're in control. He knows he's at your mercy.

You lead him to the chair and push him down into it. He looks up at you, raptured, his chest heaving. You climb on top of him, straddle him, push his arms up and pin them down with your hands. You kiss him, hard, deep, bite his lip a bit which makes him shudder, then you start grinding on him, slowly, hips moving in circles and side to side. It feels amazing. You tip your own head back, hair cascading down your back, and you let him lift a hand to touch the thin ends of it with the tips of his fingers, while he watches you, and then pin his arm down again when he moves his hand to your side and slides up. Instead, you slide out the top half of your dress and keep grinding, watching his face as he gets more and more desperate, and as it feels better and better for you. You moan.

"Please," he whispers. You ignore him. Carry on. Until he raises his voice. Louder. Harsher. But with the whimper behind it.

"Please," he says again. So you undo his belt buckle, pull aside your underwear and slide him inside you. He cries out. You start riding him, and you let his hands go, and they do, desperately, all over your body, your waist line, your ass, your tits, he runs them all over you, watching you and you ride him, when the pleasure isn't too much that he has to close his eyes. You feel it too, the growing depth of it, the climbing of it, and you're close you're getting so close and you know you're about to...

"Baby," Matty stammers, "I'm sorry... I can't... I can't help it, I'm gonna..."

You thrust, same rhythm, because you're so close too and you just need to do this, to get there, to carry on, you can't stop, you need this, you need him.

"Hold on for me," you say. And he grabs the flesh on your hips with his hands, tightly, physically holding on while he tries to stop himself from going over the edge.

"I can't baby, I cant" he says, "I need to come," and then his whole body is shuddering, and he is groaning, deeply, loudly, and watching him pushes you there too. The feeling explodes through your body. Loud. Deep. Hard. You tighten around him. His fingers are pinching you at the waist and it tingles through you like the rest of what you're body is feeling and then you're both done. Panting. Sweaty. You collapse into his chest.

"Fuck," Matty breathes into the space behind your hair, then again into it, "Fuck."

"I just needed you so bad," you say.

"Mmm," Matty mumbles, an aftershock of shudder going through his chest.

When you watch him onstage later, he winks at you from the middle of it, from the pool of spotlight. Girls in the audience scream for him. They want him like you did. Do. But you had him and they can't. You have him. He's yours. And you can tell, by the way he looked at you while you were fucking, and the way he looks at you now, from the stage to the wings, helpless, that he knows it too. He's yours.

[romana-after-dark]

Room’s on Fire: Bonus Chapter: Go Insane

In the Room's on Fire universe, Jonah's POV. Takes place the day before the pilot.

Summary: Jonah is told who he will be escorting to the ceremony. Iris pities her father.

Warnings: General dark themes of ROF, do not read if that' not your thing. Mentions of abuse, SA, alcoholism, father-daughter strain, death wish, all that. By clicking read more you understand I cannot warn against everything.

***************

"Two kinds of people in this world Winners, losers I lost my power in this world Because I did not use it And I go insane like I always do And I call your name, she's a lot like you Two kinds of trouble in this world Living, dying I lost my power in this world And the rumors are flying" Go Insane, Lindsey Buckingham

Drinking was the only way to get through the day, most of the time. Jonah functioned with a buzz most days, something to dull the ache, something to make looking at Iris sweating in the kitchen, bags under her eyes as she slaves away because of him. Something to make it bearable as he watches her dancing with Reyansh, knowing he’ll never hold her like that again. It’s the only way he can suffer through life knowing Jessica is dead just for being his wife. 

Knowing all the women and men he’s loved are dead. Not all were his fault, but even if they weren’t… he felt like everything he touches burned down.

Knowing nearly everyone he’s loved even non romantically was dead, and that just meant Iris and Rey were next.

Knowing once Iris is dead, there was no reason for him to be alive.

“Jonah” Santiago walked into his room without knocking. Jonah wasn’t allowed locks. 

Jonah rolled his eyes before rolling over. He didn’t like Santiago. Hated him. Yeah, honestly, the fact he was a sniveling little psychopath brat was his fault, seeing as he was the main male figure in his life. Jonah probably fucked up that chubby little toddler too. 

“What?” No need for niceties and formalities. Jonah has known Santiago and Frankie since before they could talk.

“We found our madonna. You gotta bring her here tomorrow for the wedding.”

Jonah rubbed his eyes. “What the hell is a madonna?” Grunting, he began to sit up. He couldn’t keep up with this bullshit anymore, Beatriz liked to change things.

“The madonna.” He said, as if it was obvious. “She’s gonna marry us, give birth to the savior?” Nothing.

“What the fuck is a savior?”

Santiago groaned, rolling his eyes. “The one mighty and strong? Savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?”

“Santi what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Jonah.”

“Oooohhhh” Jonah said with a sarcastic edge, rubbing his bleary eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be the messiah.”

Santi shot him a look so dirty Jonah wondered if he’d take out his gun and shoot him for that, but Jonah wasn’t really sure he cared enough to try and stop it.

Instead, he continued. “The savior.” He corrected sharply. “And I think you’re well aware of our doctrine, seeing as you spent more time with my mother than I did.”

“Your mom kept me a little too busy to worry much about theology.”

Santiago stared at him for a long time after that. “You know, I don't really know why I kept you around. I could’ve just burned you alongside Marcus.”

“Probably should’ve.” He thought about it sometimes. Would’ve been easier. Sometimes, Jonah wished he would’ve died right there with his friend instead of drinking himself to death, wallowing in his guilt every day. But, as always, Santiago was quick to remind him why he couldn’t just swallow the barrel of a gun.

Bent over, hands on his knees, Santi got to Jonah’s eye level. “But then who would be here to protect Iris? It’d be a shame if she had to suffer more for the sins of her father.”

As good a threat as Jonah’s ever heard. He sighed. “Who's the lucky lady?”

And then Santiago said her name, and Jonah’s blood ran cold, more sober than he’d been in a week.

“You know her?” Santiago asked, and Jonah couldn’t tell if he was taunting him or not. “Marcus’s kid?”

“Yes, I’m familiar.” He was more than familiar. He’d been following her life as closely as he could while remaining discreet. It was the least he could do after Marcus took the fall. He’d watched he grow from a traumatized 12 year old forced to dance as her father burned to death next to her, to a shy, reverent, respectful young woman of 22 years. Jonah couldn’t say she’d adjusted well; she was nervous, jerky movements and startling at loud noises, she didn’t have a single friend. From what he knew of her prior to the uprising, she was an awkward child already: inward, quiet, thoughtful. Social interactions didn’t come easy to her, but she was devout and had a talent in painting at a young age. The few friends she had were gone when her father was outed as a traitor, and for 10 years she was estranged from her community. 

Now, she was about to be thrust into one of the most powerful roles there was for women.

“Yeah, I’m familiar… what exactly is she doing?”

Santi explained it all, how she was to be married to all of them, pregnant with their child, be the Madonna, the mother (but not the Divine Mother, he clarified).

Married to all 4 of them, each with their own issued a girl as sensitive as her would suffer with.

Santiago and his constantly changing moods, the flashed of fire and rage and unpredictable cold.

Will with his charm, his golden tongue, his ability to talk you out of the good and into the bad that serves him.

Ben and his addictions: alcoholism, coke and a fuck ton of sex with everyone he could get his hands on, despite breaking Frankie’s heart.

And Frankie…

Frankie was softer, kind, a lover at heart caught in a love triangle he never wanted. Francisco was a broken down man, and a girl as gentle and devoted to her gods as she was would give every piece of herself to fill the cracks.

“Think you can handle it?” Santi asked, jerking him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, whatever” Jonah took out his bottle again, taking multiple big chugs to numb that growing panic. He’d done everything he could to keep her under the radar for Marcus and yet he was the one taking her right into the den of vipers.

Santi mumbled a swear. “Just have her at the house by 2 pm for Iris to dress her and help her get her thing in the carriage.” He almost left, walking out the door before turning around. “Lay one single hand on her, and I’ll throw Iris to Ben, got it?”

Jonah couldn’t help but glare at the younger man. “She’s 30 years younger than me, Santiago. That’s disgusting.”

Santi shrugged. “She’s about the same age Delilah was.” And walked off.

He knew that’d shut Jonah up.

World spinning, Jonah laid back down and rubbed his eyes, trying to fight back tears of frustration. He was failing, constantly. He failed Jessica, Delilah, Marcus, Iris and now he would literally be walking the only thing left of Marcus, and innocent child, traumatized and desperate for affection that was stripped away from her at a young age. She ripe for the picking, ready to do anything to feel loved.

Anger at himself only growing, Jonah’s feet kick as he growled and pulled on his hair. He was a fucking failure of a father, husband and friend. Everyone he loved would be dead, including his daughter, the one who mattered most and was suffering because of him. She deserved different. She deserved better. Better than him. She deserved a happy life with Reyansh and he ruined all prospects of that for her and she would die miserable and hating him just like everyone else. 

“You’re fucking pathetic.” He announced to himself, glancing over to see himself in the mirror. Had he always looked this old? No… no he had some good years left in him still… he had to get his shit together. 

Marcus would absolutely never, ever just lay down and drink himself to death. He wouldn’t just wallow in his fucking misery. Marcus would fight for change every chance he had, and Marcus would never in a million years have just taken Iris to this fucking house left her. He’d have protected Iris like she was his own.

Jonah sat up and stumbled to the mirror. He looked fucking awful. Uncombed hair and a gray beard, looking like he hasn’t slept in years. He had to fucking pull himself together. He had to help Marcus’s kid survive the whirlwind she was walking into. 

He needed to fucking shave.

*

Iris heard a crash from her dads room. She almost didn’t go investigate; she wanted to sleep. But then she heard the sound of vomiting, and as much as she wanted to have as little involvement in her fathers binge drinking, fucking, moping around, she couldn’t let it go.

“Jonah?” She called, walking into his room. At first Iris didn’t see him, but then she saw two legs sticking out of the bathroom. Walking over, she found him propped up against the tub that had puke in it and blood on his face. He was gripping a razor. “Dad!” Iris ran to him, taking the razor out of his hand. He was too drunk to behandling that. 

“I’m-” Hickup. “Fine, honey.”

“Why are you bleeding!”

“I was trying to shave.” Jonah’s words were slurred, head bobbing a bit as he chuckled. “It didn’t go well.”

Iris closed her eyes and sighed. For a moment, she had thought he was trying to hurt himself, leaving her behind like the coward he was… No, he was just shaving. Once again, she wanted to walk away, go find Rey and spend her limited freetime with her lover… but fuck, he locked pathetic like this. Half his beard shaved off, bleeding, puke on his lips and about ready to pass out. 

“C’mon, up” Iris assisted her dad in standing long enough to sit on the toilet where she cleaned off his face and rinsed the puke down the drain. Then, she covered his face in shaving cream. Careful of his fresh cut, which wasn’t all that deep, Iris bent over Jonah and carefully shaved his face, her non dominant hand tenderly holding him still. She tried not to look at him, looking up at her with his sad brown eyes. She didn’t want to feel more sorry for him than she already did. She was supposed to be angry.

After patting his face dry, Iris slung his arm over her shoulder and walked Jonah to bed.

“I don’t deserve you.” He mumbled as she pulled the blanket over him. 

She wanted to say no, you don’t. You were never there for me. You never put me first. You didn’t protect me . But that would get them nowhere.

“Go to sleep. We got a busy day tomorrow.”

 He started snoring almost immediately. Iris bent over and kissed his cheek.

***************

Jonah Jonah Jonah.... he's trying his best.

Go Insane is soooooooooo Jonah coded.

I've been learning about the mormons for my research apaper, so "the one mighty and strong" is now joining terms for the baby alongside "the savior of the broke, the beaten and the damned"

I'm so eepy and must go to work. chapter 12 is slow going. Got writers block rn so im sorry. school comes first.

you guys voted rey your fav oc which made me so happy. I love my lil guy.

@winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock @neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows @hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile @rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado @mjnomaryjane @incorrectclassicbookquotes @axshadows @ghostslillady @movievillainess721 @justagalwhowrites @charethcutestory02 @pixielouise-blog @gogh-with-the-flow @justafandomgvrl @katw474 @loveable-liar @arrozconpepitoria @minigirl87 @runa-falls @pedge-page @angel-of-the-moons @beefrobeefcal @pixielouise-blog @miraclesabound @oliveksmoked @bubble-pop-eclectic @corazondebeskar-reads @pedroshotwifey @umnitsa @koshkaj-blog @hiroikegawa @mangoslushcrush @withasideofmeg @sub-aro @wand-erer5 @pixielou5

[enid-rhees]

hi its me again 😭 can you do an enid x reader where they have to baby sit judith or hershel jr (or both), and it’s just pure chaos and fluff and the end? ty and i love ur writing so much 🫶🏽🫶🏽

hello hello 🫶🏻🫶🏻 i hope you enjoy this !! tysm again for ur kind words all the time 🫶🏻🫶🏻

warnings: none! just the kids being kids :)

A/N: hope you all enjoy !! reqs are currently open and i currently have around 2 more in my inbox so look out for those :))

the walkie that sat on your bedside table started to buzz, making you furrow your eyebrows. it almost never went off.

“Y/N i stole this thing from Maggie you better pick up.” Enid’s static voice rang through. you laughed, leaning over to grab it and turning it on. “Enid? what the hell are you doing?”

she sighed through the walkie, “i don’t think i can come over anymore. Maggie asked me to watch Hershel for the day. unless you want me to bring him there as well but he’s going to be lou-“

“Rick asked me to watch Judith as well! come over with Hershel, it’ll be like a playdate!” you looked over at Judith who was sitting on your bed next to you, playing with the hair of a Barbie doll.

Enid laughed, “you’re joking. two toddlers and us? your house is going to be demolished.” you shook your head, even though she couldn’t see you. “we know how to take care of them, though! nothing bad should happen…”

“you don’t sound confident.”

“i’m so confident. now come over, i miss you.” you said to her, turning off the walkie completely so she couldn’t reply. you picked up Judith from your bed and held her against your side as you opened your bedroom door, making your way downstairs. you set her on the couch and handed her a toy while you waited for Enid.

a few minutes later, the doorknob started to turn and Enid finally walked in. she was leaning down slightly as Hershel was holding onto her hand. your heart warmed at the sight.

“hey, pretty.” you smiled, walking over to her. she wrapped her arms over your neck, “hey,” she smiled back. you both leaned in, lips meeting in the middle. “i missed you.” you whispered against her lips.

“you saw me last night,” she teased, a giggle escaping her lips. “but i can never get enough of you. need you here at all times.”

“one day.” she mumbled, pressing one more kiss to your lips.

the two of you turned around when you heard a fake gag. you looked over at Judith, who was pouting at you two. “Judith, who taught you how to do that?” you asked with another laugh.

“Carl.” she responded. “i saw him do it and Mom and Dad. and you.” you gaped at Judith as Enid put her hands over her mouth, trying to muffle her laughs.

you reached your hand onto her head of blonde curls, ruffling it. she whined, pushing your hand off her head.

“okay, kids. listen up,” you started, sitting on the coffee table in front of Judith and Hershel Jr. Enid sat down next to you.

“me and Enid are in charge of taking care of you for a little bit while your parents are out to find food and supplies for us. and they’re depending on us to keep you safe here, okay? we need you guys to be on your best behavior. got it?”

both of them nodded. “good. now, what would you guys like to do? we’re the fun ones, so we can do whatever you guys want as long as it’s safe.”

“color.” Judith spoke. “you wanna color?” you asked, making sure she wouldn’t change her mind last second. she nodded again. “what about you, Hershel? you wanna color with her? or read any of Carl’s comics? what would you like to do?”

he picked up the coloring book that sat underneath the coffee table, putting it in front of him to show you. “okay. you both wanna color. that’s good. i’ll be right back with everything you need.” Enid stayed with them as you went into Judith’s bedroom to find all of her coloring supplies.

you took everything you could find and brought them back to the living room, placing them in front of them on the table.

both of them immediately started to color on the pages of the coloring book, entering their own little worlds. you moved to sit on the recliner across from them, and Enid came over, sitting across your lap.

“see? i told you that we could do this. they’re already occupied.” you told Enid, running your hands through her hair. “we got lucky. you should’ve seen Hershel before we came here. purposely talking loud and all. acting like a maniac, running around the house. i don’t know what changed when we walked in here.” 

“Judith gets like that too. i think they do it when they’re only with one other person.”

Enid leaned back, resting her head on your chest. you laid your hands across her thighs, drawing shapes around them. “wanna stay tonight?” you asked, pressing a kiss to her hair. “yeah, that sounds great.” she lifted her head to smile up at you, briefly connecting your lips.

“Y/N?” Judith asked. you pulled away from Enid, looking over at her. “what’s up, Judith?”

she pouted, “i’m hungry.” then Hershel looked up at you two, “me too!” he exclaimed.

you and Enid stood up. “okay. we’ll cook you guys up something. anything in particular?” you asked them. they both shook their heads. you guys made your way to the kitchen, looking through the fridge and all the pantries.

“we have stuff for grilled cheese.” Enid told you. “good. lets do that,” you grabbed the cheese from the fridge as she got the butter and bread.

as you started to stove, she began buttering the bread. “do you think you might get used to something like this?” she suddenly asked you.

“like what? taking care of kids?” you questioned. she nodded, “yeah… but like our own kid. not someone else’s. ours.”

you stared blankly at the stove, trying to think of what to say. “i-i’ve thought of it. but Enid… it’s not… possible. i’d love to have one with you, really. but… right now it’s just not possible.”

“i know,” she said quickly. “i just… wanted to know your stance on it. y’know, for the future.” you smiled softly, pulling her into your side. you leaned down and pressed a kiss to her head. “one day, okay?” she smiled back and nodded. “one day,” she repeated.

you both of the grilled cheeses on the stove, silently waiting for them to cook on each side.

once they were done, Enid grabbed two paper plates from the cabinet and placed each one on them while you grabbed water bottles for them from the fridge.

when you walked back into the living room, Hershel and Judith turned to look you. the plates and water almost fell out of your hands when you noticed they both had colored markers all over their arms, legs and face.

“oh my god.” Enid mumbled. the two of you rushed to set everything down before running to them. “we left for five fucking minutes. why would you guys do this?!” you asked, grabbing Judith’s face to see how much was truly on her. Enid did the same to Hershel.

Judith shrugged, a giggle leaving her lips. you sighed, running a hand down your face. “they’re gonna be back soon.” Enid said. “we need to get this off of them. now.”

you ran to the kitchen, soaking two rags in water. once you got back, you handed one to Enid and you both started to try your hardest to get all of the stains off.

you let out a sigh of relief when you realized that the marker was coming off easily, and it didn’t take long for you to completely clean Judith off. Enid finished only a few minutes after you.

after you rung out the rags and threw them somewhere, you sat in front of the kids again.

“okay, listen up…. again. if any of your parents find out about this, we’re all in trouble. not just you two or us, but all of us. do you promise not to say a word to any of them?”

“yes,” they said at the same time. you held out your pinky to Judith, “pinky promise?” you asked. she giggled, linking her finger with yours. “good.”

you turned around, bringing over their plates of food. “now eat up. we have some water for you too.” you told them, putting both of the mini bottles in front of them.

the two of you resumed your previous position in the recliner. you started to doze off until the front door opened, and Rick, Michonne, Carl and Maggie came through.

“hey guys.” you said tiredly. “hey. everything okay here?” Rick asked. you nodded. “yeah, everything’s great. they’re just eating lunch now. they colored for a while.”

“oh, good. thank you for taking care of Judith, Y/N. i appreciate it.” you smiled. “it’s no problem. me and Judith are bff’s.” you said, and Judith giggled again.

“thanks for watching him, Enid.” you heard Maggie say to her. “of course,” she responded.

after a few minutes, you two managed to sneak off and go back upstairs now that they were back. you got into your bed and under the covers, holding Enid close to you.

“so,” you mumbled. “still think you want kids in the future?” you asked with a chuckle.

Enid lightly hit your shoulder, “shut up!” she whined, shutting up your laughs with a kiss.

[toomanybandstocare]

{Tradition in the Making}

Program: Jesse comes home after a recent deployment to Kashyyyk with gifts and worries to share. Especially when his son runs up greets him at the door when Jesse left him in your arms. After dinner and when the little one is tucked in for bed, Jesse admits his conflicts feelings towards his GAR contract renewal and how we was able to cope being away from home.

Pairing: Dad! Jesse x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Length: 4642w

Warnings: Extreme liberties with timeline, Pet names (Cy'are, Buir), Suggestive ending but nothing explicit

Camp Resolute's Masterlist

ClonexReader Masterlist

Prompt: Life Day

Counselor Notes: My next piece for @clonexreaderbingo! Just to clarify as well, Order 66 and the rise of of the empire never happened. Once Palpatine was caught and arrested, the Senate established bills to help the Clones. One of which that lets them work on a contract basis or leave the GAR if they'd like after the war ends. Look - I want my boys to be happy and safe, doesn't mean I won't make it easy for them. This also came from one of @notthatfanfictionwriter's server messages, and my brain short circuited to produce this.

Warm rays of sunlight stream through the living room’s glass wall as the sun sets on Coruscant. Faint static voices sing in the background from the radio as you putter around the kitchen. A savory aroma fills the air as you stir tonight’s meal and prepare filling side dishes that you know would be a favorite with your partner. Frith’s smoothie bowl already sits to the side on the counter. Excitement buzzes inside you as the fish sizzles in the pan. Your eyes flicker past the breakfast counter to the entryway every few moments in hopes your partner will walk through the door calling your names. 

Mumbly hums accompany the small hands that squeeze your upper arm and shoulder while you balance your son on your hip. Swaying to the music, you nod your head in agreement to Frith’s nonsensical chatter. Soft, golden eyes peer up at you when you gaze at Frith’s sleepy expression. “Dad home?” he quietly asks. Nearly identical to Jesse in every way, Frith takes after you in his quiet demeanor even in his appraching toddler years. Always far more interested in daydreaming rather than rough housing.

“He should be home soon,” you hum with a smile. “He sent a message just a few hours ago saying he would. Just had a meeting to attend with Uncle Rex before he could leave,” you simply explain. Both you and Jesse agreed that it would only hurt Frith if you hid his father’s whereabouts and work from him. No child should have to wonder where their parent went or when they would see them next, if it could be avoided. Even at such a young age, they see everything and know when something’s wrong.

Frith scrunches his chubby face into a pout. Unable to question you further, he sighs and throws his head into the crook of your neck. With an amused smirk, you raise an eyebrow at your son. Flashes of his father’s occasional flare for dramatics only foreshadows what his teen years may look like. Especially if his uncles keep their promises to make him a “man of the people”. Before you can even shudder at the thought of their lessons in charm, the distant blips of the entry lock sound off before the front door hisses open. 

Frith squirms away from you, and you turn off the stove before rounding the corner of the breakfast bar. Barely even waiting for you to place him on the floor, Firth stumbles full speed towards Jesse who crouches with his arms wide open. His adoring smile beams as your child runs to him. Jesse wraps his arms around Frith with a groan of affection. “I missed you, little one. Pretty soon, I’ll be the one running after you making sure you’re not causing any trouble for your buir,” he mutters into the side of Frith head before placing a chaste kiss on his temple. 

Jesse drops his kit to the side and uses both arms to pick Frith up and stand. With his child beaming and giggling in his arms, Jesse feels a wash of peace overcome him. When he turns to meet your gaze, his breath catches. He doesn’t know how you manage to do this every time he comes home. Always dressed in comfy clothes with faint bags under your eyes from sleepless nights with your son, you look ethereal leaning against the counter while the last rays of the sun envelope you in a warm glow. “I’m home, cy’are,” Jesse quietly greets you. At your soft smile, his heart swells in his chest.

“Welcome home, riduur,” you match his warm tone. With a few steps, you stand in front of him and hold his cheek with one palm. Jesse’s eyelashes flutter as he leans into your touch, and your heart skips a beat. “We missed you, Jesse,” you say before pulling him into a gentle kiss. Too quick for either of your likings, but too long for Frith to go without attention. His little hands pat the sides of both your heads in protest. You break the kiss with a laugh as Jesse huffs. Frith beams and claps his hands with a bright squeal. “You’re just in time for dinner. I can take Frith if you want to shower and get changed real quick,” you offer while trying to slip your son from his father’s arms. Yet the little boy’s squeals melt into small cries as his head falls to his father’s shoulder. 

“How about I take him with me while I change?” Jesse suggests and carefully rubs the boy’s back. The cries begin to fade into small mumbles of content, and Frith’s eyelids flutter shut. “Give you a couple of minutes to yourself, and Frith doesn’t have to leave dad too soon”.

You bite down on your bottom lip and title your head. Both of you have noticed Frith’s growing nervousness when he leaves Jesse’s side, and you’ve been actively trying to help the little boy cope with his emotions around Jesse’s deployment schedule. Trying to find balance between fostering a relationship between the two while also encouraging Frith to explore on his own in the apartment or enjoy solo activities. Jesse’s eyes fall to your lips, and you chuckle pulling his slightly darkened eyes to meet your gaze. “Thank you, love. Take your time,” you agree and place a kiss on both your boy’s cheeks.

“Time for you and me, mister, to get into pjs,” Jesse dips his arms to make Frith giggle. The little boy is content babbling about nothing in particular while having it mean everything to him. Jesse walks through his home with a light step to the bedroom just off to the side of the living room. Sliding off his boots, Jesse nods in agreement with Frith’s final huff. Ever intrigued by the simple issues that trouble a toddler. “Alright, little one. Want to match with me or try something out on your own?” Jesse asks while moving them to the small bureau . Everytime he opens it, Jesse is amazed by how small the clothing is while he guiltily acknowledges the slightly larger sizes from the last time he was helping with the bedtime routine. 

Frith pats Jesse's face with a large smile, which Jesse mirrors. His little body bouncing in his father’s arms as Jesse pulls out the tiny pair of blue sweatpants and a white waffle weave long sleeve. “Let me take this off first, and then we’ll get into our comfy clothes,” Jesse mumbles and carefully removes each piece of his armor while still balancing Frith in one arm at a time. Once down to his blacks, Jesse sits Frith on the bureau top and raises his arms up: “Alright, Frith, can you copy daddy?” The little boy giggles as his arms shoot up, and Jesse helps guide him out of the play shirt and into his sleep shirt before doing the same with his bottoms. 

“And time to board your flight on Starship Jesse,” he cries out and picks Frith up. He swoops his arms to imitate flying, and Frith erupts with laughter while holding his arms out. “Buckle up, little one. We’re about to land,” Jesse announces while moving towards the bed. With care, he places the boy up at the top of the bed with the pillows and gives him a mock salute. “Stay right here, alright? Gonna get my pjs on as well, and then we’ll join your buir for dinner. I have a surprise for the both of you,” Jesse playfully winks at the wide eyed boy. 

Turning around, Jesse opens your shared closet, and his shoulders relax while his eyes scan for his sleep clothes. He sifts through the clothing as the faint sound of your humming harmonizes to the song on the radio. A mischievous giggle causes him to look over his shoulder only to see Frith cloud gazing through the window wall. The dark clouds settle like a thick blanket across the last few rays of sunlight as they bleed into the night sky. Refocusing on the closet, Jesse hurries his search and a smile tugs at his lips as he pulls out his shirt from your clothing pile and sweatpants from his. Quickly changing, he then returns to the bedside and picks up his son to place on the floor. Jesse offers a hand to Frith, and his chest warms as the little boy’s tiny fingers wrap around two of his own. They then wander back into the living room where your quiet singing greets them.

Turning around with warm plates of fish and rice, you smile at your boys. “Dinner’s just about done. The bread just needs a few more minutes to cool”. You place the plates in front of the end seats of the breakfast counter and then reach over to grab Frith’s bowl before placing it in front of the middle seat.

“Perfect. I have a gift for my loves anyways, so we can wait on eating for just a minute,” Jesse says as he helps Frith up on his seat. At the mention of a present, Frith twists and turns in his father’s hands. “Patience, little one. I need to go get it,” he laughs and pats Frith’s curls before walking over to the entryway once more.

“You really didn’t have to, Jesse,” you weakly protest, “We’re grateful that you come home to us at the end of the day. That’s a gift in itself”.

A dusting of warmth tickles at Jesse’s cheeks, and he’s grateful his face is hidden as he pulls out two small wrapped parcels. “Let me treat you two,” he huffs. “Besides,” Jesse begins to explain while walking back to the two of you, “this assignment was a little different from my past ones. And it got me thinking about starting a little tradition for ourselves”. 

You raise an eyebrow at Jesse as he places the small parcels in front of both of you, but a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. Butterflies tickle your stomach at his sweet consideration while so far away from home. Your fingers tap just by the side of the parcel, and Jesse chuckles as he sits down on the other side of your son.

“Went to Kashyyyk this time, and we were there as an extra security precaution,” Jesse explains as he helps Frith untie the green ribbon on his present. “This is the first celebration of Life Day since the wars began. The entire forest was lit with crystal orbs, and there were small fires that illuminated the great trees as families prepared delicious meals to share. We were fortunate enough to be adopted into some of their celebrations,” Jesse says with a bright smile. Watching Frith tear at the paper and fold it into little shapes, Jesse’s expression melts into a soft look of happiness. When his gaze flickers to meet yours, the warm feeling overcoming him only intensifies at your adoring expression as you listen intently. Jesse refocuses on Frith’s growing pile of scraps, and he moves it to the side to help his son open the wooden box. “They spent almost the whole day together by the oldest tree in the forest, the Tree of Life. It just got me thinking about our little family,” Jesse’s voice begins to soften. Frith gasps and shuffles the straw packing scraps to show the carved wooden Wookie toy. He looks up at Jesse with wide, amber eyes that twinkle. His beaming smile shows the tiny little teeth that Jesse can’t remember noticing since the last time he was home.

“Woo-wie!” Frith exclaims. His hands hold up the toy to show Jesse before spinning around in his seat to show you. 

You chuckle at your son’s excitement and watch him start to play with it, creating an entire story in his mind to act out with his new toy. Pulling your gaze, you hesitantly look at Jesse and nudge your present with a finger. His chuckle brings a warm flush to your cheeks, and your hands carefully pull at the wrapping at his nod. As you open a very similar wooden box, you notice a metal plating that sits on the top. A group of Wookies of all different ages stand together in front of a great tree. The metal clasp feels heavy as you pull it up and reveal a bed of straw that shows an iridescent, crystal peeking through the openings. With care, you sweep off some of the straw and pick up the orb by its rope casing. When the final ray of sunlight hits it, small patches of rainbows reflect off of it as it spins in your hold. “It’s beautiful, Jesse,” you murmur. Completely entranced by the delicate, yet sound object as if twists and turns from the rope tension. “You really didn’t need to,” you try to deflect, but your smile contradicts your words.

Jesse lays an arm over the back of Frith’s chair to gently rest a hand on your upper arm, rubbing his thumb across your skin. After placing the orb back into its package, your hand rests on his as the two of you share a loving look. Until Frith and his Wookie toy use your arms as a set for their adventure. The two of you look at each with a knowing glance before joining Frith’s laughter. Jesse moves his arm away to clean up the breakfast bar temporarily, and he coaxes the toy from Frith’s grip. “Just until after dinner, alright? Buir spent so much time making us food that we’d enjoy, and it’d be rude not to focus your attention on that,” Jesse explains and pats Frith’s head. 

The three of you enjoy your meals as the moon rises behind the city skyline. Cutlery clatters against the bowls that have well-worn chips at the edges. As if no time has passed since the last time all the seats at the breakfast bar have been filled, the three of you chat in soft tones only interrupted by excited gasps from the youngest member of the family. 

Jesse starts to clear the dishes and presses a chaste kiss to your temple when you try to protest. “You just got home and haven’t even taken a shower yet,” you note. He leans against the sink edge on the opposite side of the breakfast bar, and your cheeks warm at his amused expression. Frith’s quiet yawn pulls your attention away from your partner, and his head begins to sink lower onto your arm.

Jesse’s expression melts at the sight of his son starting to fall asleep in your arms. Even with so much love and adoration he feels looking at the two of you, a pang stabs his heart. Focusing his attention on the sudsy dishes, Jesse tries to relax the frown pulling at his lips. Over the rushing water, he hears your chair scrape against the tile accompanied by soft hums. Footsteps lightly patter closer to him, and Jesse turns with what he hopes isn’t as forced of a smile as it feels.

“I’ll get this one into bed, if you want to stay up for a little bit to chat,” you quietly offer. Careful not to startle Frith from his slumber, but also understanding that something hangs over Jesse’s mind. “You still need to tell me about this tradition you want to start,” you say as you shift Frith onto your hip and rest a palm on your partner’s cheek.

Jesse closes his eyes and leans into your palm. For a moment the pressure building in his skull subsides, but when he looks into your attentive gaze, he feels it come full force again. “Read my mind, cy’are,” Jesse says. His voice low and slightly shaking with emotion. When your hand pulls away, he follows. Not wanting to yearn for the touches he desperately misses the majority of his rotations away. He doesn’t have to go without for much longer though, as you press a soft kiss to his lips. Followed by another shorter one. Ended with a peck to the corner of his lips and your laughter filling the room. 

“I’ll be right back,” you hum. Your chest swells with pride seeing Jesse’s expression relax and his shoulders ease. You walk with purpose from the kitchen across the apartment to the bedroom. Eager to return to your lover for a moment to yourselves.

Jesse shuts off the faucet and turns off the lights before leaving the kitchen. In a few steps, he sinks into the plush cushions. His head rolls to rest on the back of the couch, and his eyes flutter closed. From the other room, your soft words ease not only your son to sleep, but also Jesse as he refamiliarizes himself with the love he has for these mundane moments. Not even noticing your approach until the cushion next to his sinks, and you press into his side. His breath hitches as your hand softly trails across his stomach, and he relaxes into your touch.

“Credit for your thoughts,” you hum. Resting your elbow on the back of the couch, you lean onto your fist. You move your other hand to lightly trace the crown of his head. His eyelashes flutter before his amber eyes meet your gaze. Fatigue clouds the normally lighthearted gaze you’ve come to love. “What’s wrong, love?”

Jesse sighs and takes your head to press a kiss to your knuckles before bringing to his lap. Fiddling with your fingers, he collects his thoughts, but the guilt gnawing him makes it difficult to grasp how to voice his feelings. “I don’t know,” Jesse quietly admits. The words feel heavy on his tongue as he tries to push them out. “Or, I do know,” he corrects himself, “I just don’t know how to feel about it”.

“Talk to me,” you plead and squeeze his hand.

“I think I want to end my contract with the GAR at this renewal period,” Jesse slowly voices. Processing the words as he speaks. Finally putting his thoughts out into the open, his heart pounds. “But I don’t know if I’m ready to leave the only home and family I’ve known for so long. And I’m not putting my brothers over our family or discounting the home we’ve created together,” Jesse rushes to assure you. His eyes flicker across your thoughtful expression before dropping to your hands. Out of the corner of his eyes, he notices your nod and continues, “I want to be here for you and Frith. I want to watch my son grow up and experience his milestones with you. To wake up with you every morning and sleep in whenever we want. Plan trips to the city gardens and go on Frith’s adventures, wherever his imagination takes us. I just don’t know if I’m ready to leave the only constant I’ve had in my life. Everything is still so - so new and unknown outside of the GAR, but I’m excited to experience life with our family”.

“Do you need a moment, or would you like to hear my thoughts,” you ask. Adjusting your grip, you hold his hand in your own to rub soothing circles across his battered knuckles. Hands that have held guns and punched bounty hunters, but hold you with such tenderness.

“I always want to hear your thoughts,” Jesse replies without hesitation, “You’re the one with the brains and beauty. I’m the muscle and charm”. A hollow laugh escapes him, and it doesn’t even attempt to ease the heavy atmosphere settling around the two of you.

“You're more than what the GAR and Republic have forced you to be, Jesse,” you gently assert. Wanting to squash any fear or guilt he has, you nudge your nose at his chin to make him look at you. “But I don’t expect you to jump into a world you have no knowledge about. Especially when so many of its people have looked at you and your brothers with prejudice and disrespect, even when you all have sacrificed so much for them”. You pause for a moment and take in his nervous gaze. “We’re here for you when you return. Excited to welcome you home and create memories with the time we have,” you reassure him with another squeeze to his hand. You pick up your hands and drape your legs over his to scooch closer. His other arm pulls you into his chest as his hand rests on top of your thigh. Resting your hand on the back of his neck, you lazily trail your fingers in small patterns. “I won’t lie and say I’m not worried about the worst case scenario. That a patrol goes wrong, and Rex is the one at our doorway instead of you. But I know you love your brothers and you’re loyal to the people the GAR serves, so I will never force you to choose between your family there or with us. Whether you decide to renew your contract or not, that will be your choice. I’ll support you whatever you decide is best for you. We’ll figure out a way to make it work ”.

Jesse presses his face into the crook of your neck and takes a deep breath. With a small nod, Jesse mumbles, “I don’t think I’m ready to leave it altogether. There should be a way for me to request shorter deployments under the Family Care Act, so I’ll ask Rex what my options are. I have some time to think about it more until my contract negotiation”.

You hum and gently scratch the back of his head. His soft sigh fans across your skin and sends small sparks through you. “What did you have in mind for a tradition,” you softly mumble.

“Would it be okay to set aside some credits for me while on deployment?” Jesse asks and pulls himself up to look at you. The confusion that pinches your forehead brings a chuckle from him.

“We have a shared account, Jesse. You don’t need to ask if you can spend our money. You contribute to it just as much as I do,” you begin. Worried that he feels like he has to ask you permission to go out with friends or pick up a token from the planet he visits.

“I know, I know,” Jesse quickly assures you. “Lately I’ve been struggling being away from you and Frith -- especially seeing him grow so fast -- when I’m away. When I was on patrol in the marketplace, I felt the most relaxed looking at the different booths and thinking about what the two of you would most enjoy. How you would react if I brought you new ingredients to experiment with or how you’d look with a bracelet. It was like the two of you were with me for a moment, and I felt like myself”. Jesse moves his hand away from your leg and cups your cheek with a watery smile. Relief floods his system as tears sting his lash line. The anxiety that nips at the back of his mind fizzes. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to get  the two of you something -- something small, I promise --each time I travel to a different planet on deployment. Just to keep you guys close to heart while I’m away. I like picking out presents that the two of you will enjoy. It lets me express my love for you even systems away, and I get excited when I find the perfect gift”.

After a moment to think, you say,“I don’t want you to feel like you have to buy us things to show that you love us. You do so much for us even without these thoughtful gifts”. You bite your lip to hold back the bashful smile threatening to break your serious expression. 

“But,” Jesse draws out the word. An infectious smile blooms across his face as he watches you try to maintain your composure, but he knows just how much you appreciate his love language. 

You roll your eyes and laugh lightly, still careful not to be too loud to stir Frith in the other room. “If you find something that you’d like to buy -- for yourself or someone else -- you don’t need my permission. We’re partners, Jesse, and I trust your judgment,” you reassure him.

Jesse pulls you into his chest with a groan before falling onto the couch, bringing you with him. “I love you,” he sighs and peppers kisses across your face. Your laughter makes his chest warm, but he quickly shushes you. The two of you wait with apprehensive expressions, but the two of you sigh in relief when the little one doesn’t grumble or cry over the faint hum of the radio.

“I love you,” you hum, “Now, let’s get you in the shower”. You wrinkle your nose at the lingering sweat and grime that always seems to blend into Jesse’s natural scent.

He wags his eyebrows at you and laughs at the sharp jab to his ribs. “Care to join me, cy’are? No funny business, ARC Trooper’s honor,” he promises. 

You squint your eyes at him. “I’ve met your brothers, and I don’t think that means all that much,” you joke. You sit up and push off of the couch to stand up. Offering your hand, you raise an eyebrow at Jesse. “We can call one of your brothers tomorrow to see if they’ll babysit,” you promise.

A tired chuckle falls from Jesse’s lips, and he lets you pull him up. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I have a favor or two I can cash in, but I’m warning you, Fives and Hardcase will only try to start their charm lessons if we let them watch Frith”.

“Which is why we’re cashing in a favor with Echo or Kix,” you push back. The two of you walk into the bedroom and pause by the crib by the side of the bed. Frith sleeps soundly with the blue blanket, tucked under his chin, that his uncle’s gifted him the first day he came home with you and Jesse. When Jesse goes to cover Frith’s feet with the blanket, you stop him quickly and shake your head. The last time you tried to do that, Frith wouldn’t stop sobbing for the entire night. “We’re doing good,” you whisper.

Jesse looks at you with a mock look of exasperation before it melts into a sincere smile. “We’re doing amazing,” he agrees and quickly presses a kiss to your temple. “We’ll figure this out together”.

You pull Jesse from the bedroom towards the bathroom with a smirk, “It also helps that we have so many uncles to help us out when we need a day to ourselves as well”.

Jesse bites down on his knuckle to hold back the booming laugh that suddenly hits him. “I swear you’re just trying to get me into trouble,” he wheezes. Squeezing your hand, Jesse finally feels at ease.

“I need someone to help me remind you of how much you love me when you’re so far away,” you tease and leave the door slightly cracked. Enough to keep to hear if Frith needs anything while creating a sense of privacy for the two of you.

“Trust me, cy’are,” Jesse rests his hands on your hips, “There’s never a moment where you’re not on my mind”. Jesse presses a kiss to your lips and pulls you close, desperate to sever any remaining distance between the two of you. He nips at your bottom lip, bringing a light giggle from you that makes his heart feel complete. Happy to finally be home, reunited with the two most important people in his life.f